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A65112
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The works of Virgil containing his Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis : adorn'd with a hundred sculptures / translated into English verse by Mr. Dryden.
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Virgil.; Virgil. Bucolica.; Virgil. Georgica.; Virgil. Aeneis.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
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1697
(1697)
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Wing V616; ESTC R26296
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421,337
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914
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as he turn'd the Golden Orb withstood The Strokes and bore about an Iron Wood. Impatient of Delay and weary grown Still to defend and to defend alone To wrench the Darts which in his Buckler light Urg'd and o're-labour'd in unequal Fight At length resolv'd he throws with all his Force Full at the Temples of the Warrior Horse Just where the Stroke was aim'd th' unerring Spear Made way and stood transfix'd thro' either Ear. Seiz'd with unwonted Pain surpriz'd with Fright The wounded Steed curvets and rais'd upright Lights on his Feet before His Hoofs behind Spring up in Air aloft and lash the Wind. Down comes the Rider headlong from his height His Horse came after with unweildy weight And flound'ring forward pitching on his Head His Lord 's incumber'd Sholuder overlaid From either Hoast the mingl'd Shouts and Cries Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the Skies Aeneas hast'ning wav'd his fatal Sword High o're his head with this reproachful Word Now where are now thy Vaunts the fierce Disdain Of proud Mezentius and the lofty Strain Strugling and wildly staring on the Skies With scarce recover'd Sight he thus replies Why these insulting Words this waste of Breath To Souls undaunted and secure of Death 'T is no Dishonour for the Brave to dye Nor came I here with hope of Victory Nor ask I Life nor fought with that design As I had us'd my Fortune use thou thine My dying Son contracted no such Band The Gift is hateful from his Murd'rer's hand To Tho Hopkins of y e Middle Temple Esq. For this this only Favour let me sue If Pity can to conquer'd Foes be due Refuse it not But let my Body have The last Retreat of Human Kind a Grave Too well I know th' insulting People's Hate Protect me from their Vengeance after Fate This Refuge for my poor Remains provide And lay my much lov'd Lausus by my side He said and to his Throat the Sword apply'd The Crimson Stream distain'd his Arms around And the disdainful Soul came rushing thro' the Wound The Eleventh Book of the Aeneis The Argument Aeneas erects a Trophy of the Spoils of Mezentius grants a Truce for burying the dead and sends home the Body of Pallas with great Solemnity Latinus calls a Council to propose offers of Peace to Aeneas which occasions great Animosity betwixt Turnus and Drances In the mean time there is a sharp Engagement of the Horse wherein Camilla signalizes her self is kill'd And the Latine Troops are entirely defeated SCarce had the rosie Morning rais'd her Head Above the Waves and left her wat'ry Bed The Pious Chief whom double Cares attend For his unbury'd Souldiers and his Friend Yet first to Heav'n perform'd a Victor's Vows He bar'd an ancient Oak of all her Boughs Then on a rising Ground the Trunk he plac'd Which with the Spoils of his dead Foe he grac'd The Coat of Arms by proud Mezentius worn Now on a naked Snag in Triumph born Was hung on high and glitter'd from afar A Trophy sacred to the God of War Above his Arms fix'd on the leafless Wood Appear'd his Plumy Crest distilling Blood His brazen Buckler on the left was seen Trunchions of shiver'd Lances hung between And on the right was plac'd his Corslet bor'd And to the Neck was ty'd his unavailing Sword A Crowd of Chiefs inclose the Godlike Man Who thus conspicuous in the midst began Our Toils my Friends are crown'd with sure Success The greater Part perform'd atchieve the less To y e Right Noble Charles Duke of Shrensbury Marquis of Alton Earle of Shrensbury Wexford Water-ford Baron Talbot Strange of Blackmere Gifford of Brimsfield ct One of the Lords of his Ma. ties most Hon. ble Privy Councill Principall Secretary of State and Knight of y e most Noble Order of the Garter AE 11. l. 1. Now follow chearful to the trembling Town Press but an Entrance and presume it won Fear is no more For fierce Mezentius lies As the first Fruits of War a Sacrifice Turnus shall fall extended on the Plain And in this Omen is already slain Prepar'd in Arms pursue your happy Chance That none unwarn'd may plead his Ignorance And I at Heav'n's appointed Hour may find Your warlike Ensigns waving in the Wind. Mean time the Rites and Fun'ral Pomps prepare Due to your dead Companions of the War The last Respect the living can bestow To shield their Shadows from Contempt below That conquer'd Earth be theirs for which they fought And which for us with their own blood they bought But first the Corps of our unhappy Friend To the sad City of Evander send Who not inglorious in his Ages bloom Was hurry'd hence by too severe a Doom Thus weeping while he spoke he took his Way Where new in Death lamented Pallas lay Acaetes watch'd the Corps whose Youth deserv'd The Father's Trust and now the Son he serv'd With equal Faith but less auspicious Care Th' Attendants of the slain his Sorrow share A Troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear And mourning Matrons with dishevell'd Hair Soon as the Prince appears they raise a Cry All beat their Breasts and Echoes rend the Sky They rear his drooping Forehead from the Ground But when Aeneas view'd the grisly Wound Which Pallas in his Manly Bosom bore And the fair Flesh distain'd with Purple Gore First melting into Tears the pious Man Deplor'd so sad a sight then thus began Unhappy Youth When Fortune gave the rest Of my full Wishes she refus'd the best She came but brought not thee along to bless My longing Eyes and share in my Success She grudg'd thy safe Return the Triumphs due To prosp'rous Valour in the publick View Not thus I promis'd when thy Father lent Thy needful Succour with a sad Consent Embrac'd me parting for th' Etrurian Land And sent me to possess a large Command He warn'd and from his own Experience told Our Foes were warlike disciplin'd and bold And now perhaps in hopes of thy return Rich Odours on his loaded Altars burn While we with vain officious Pomp prepare To send him back his Portion of the War A bloody breathless Body which can owe No farther Debt but to the Pow'rs below The wretched Father e're his Race is run Shall view the Fun'ral Honours of his Son These are my Triumphs of the Latian War Fruits of my plighted Faith and boasted Care And yet unhappy Sire thou shalt not see A Son whose Death disgrac'd his Ancestry Thou shalt not blush old Man however griev'd Thy Pallas no dishonest Wound receiv'd He dy'd no Death to make thee wish too late Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shameful Fate But what a Champion has th' Ausonian Coast And what a Friend hast thou Ascanius lost Thus having mourn'd he gave the Word around To raise the lifeless Body from the Ground And chose a thousand Horse the flow'r of all His warlike Troops to wait the Funeral To bear him back and share Evander's Grief A well becoming but a
provide I cloath my Shoulders with a Lion's Hide And yellow Spoils Then on my bending Back The welcome load of my dear Father take While on my better Hand Ascanius hung And with unequal Paces tript along Creusa kept behind by choice we stray Through ev'ry dark and ev'ry devious Way I who so bold and dauntless just before The Grecian Darts and shock of Lances bore At ev'ry Shadow now am seiz'd with Fear Not for my self but for the Charge I bear Till near the ruin'd Gate arriv'd at last Secure and deeming all the Danger past A frightful noise of trampling Feet we hear My Father looking through the Shades with fear Cry'd out haste haste my Son the Foes are nigh Their Swords and shining Armour I descry Some hostile God for some unknown Offence Had sure bereft my Mind of better Sence For while through winding Ways I took my Flight And sought the shelter of the gloomy Night Alas I lost Creusa hard to tell If by her fatal Destiny she fell Or weary sate or wander'd with affright But she was lost for ever to my sight I knew not or reflected 'till I meet My Friends at Ceres now deserted Seat We met not one was wanting only she Deceiv'd her Friends her Son and wretched me What mad expessions did my Tongue refuse Whom did I not of Gods or Men accuse This was the fatal Blow that pain'd me more Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before Stung with my Loss and raving with Despair Abandoning my now forgotten Care Of Counsel Comfort and of Hope bereft My Sire my Son my Country Gods I left In shining Armour once again I sheath My Limbs not feeling Wounds nor fearing Death Then headlong to the burning Walls I run And seek the Danger I was forc'd to shun I tread my former Tracks through Night explore Each Passage ev'ry Street I cross'd before All things were full of Horrour and Affright And dreadful ev'n the silence of the Night Then to my Father's House I make repair With some small Glimps of hope to find her there Instead of her the cruel Greeks I met The house was fill'd with Foes with Flames beset Driv'n on the wings of Winds whole sheets of Fire Through Air transported to the Roofs aspire From thence to Priam's Palace I resort And search the Citadel and desart Court Then unobserv'd I pass by Juno's Church A guard of Grecians had possess'd the Porch There Phaenix and Ulysses watch the Prey And thither all the Wealth of Troy convey The Spoils which they from ransack'd Houses brought And golden Bowls from burning Altars caught The Tables of the Gods the Purple Vests The People's Treasure and the Pomp of Priests A ranck of wretched Youths with pinion'd Hands And captive Matrons in long Order stands Then with ungovern'd Madness I proclaim Through all the silent Streets Creusa's Name Creusa still I call At length she hears And suddain through the Shades of Night appears Appears no more Creusa nor my Wife But a pale Spectre larger than the Life Aghast astonish'd and struk dumb with Fear I stood like Bristles rose my stiffen'd Hair Then thus the Ghost began to sooth my Grief Nor Tears nor Cries can give the dead Relief Desist my much lov'd Lord t'indulge your Pain You bear no more than what the Gods ordain My Fates permit me not from hence to fly Nor he the great Comptroller of the Sky Long wandring Ways for you the Pow'rs decree On Land hard Labors and a length of Sea Then after many painful Years are past On Latium's happy Shore you shall be cast Where gentle Tiber from his Bed beholds The flow'ry Meadows and the feeding Folds There end your Toils And there your Fates provide A quiet Kingdom and a Royal Bride There Fortune shall the Trojan Line restore And you for lost Creusa weep no more Fear not that I shall watch with servile Shame Th' imperious Looks of some proud Grecian Dame Or stooping to the Victor's Lust disgrace My Goddess Mother or my Royal Race And now farewell the Parent of the Gods Restrains my fleeting Soul in her Abodes I trust our common Issue to your Care She said And gliding pass'd unseen in Air. I strove to speak but Horror ty'd my Tongue And thrice about her Neck my Arms I flung And thrice deceiv'd on vain Embraces hung Light as an empty Dream at break of Day Or as a blast of Wind she rush'd away Thus having pass'd the Night in fruitless Pain I to my longing Friends return again Amaz'd th' augmented Number to behold Of Men and Matrons mix'd of young and old A wretched Exil'd Crew together brought With Arms appointed and With Treasure fraught Resolv'd and willing under my Command To run all hazards both of Sea and Land The Morn began from Ida to display Her rosy Cheeks and Phosphor led the day Before the Gates the Grecians took their Post And all pretence of late Relief was lost I yield to Fate unwillingly retire And loaded up the Hill convey my Sire The Third Book of the Aeneis The Argument Aeneas proceeds in his Relation He gives an Account of the Fleet with which he sail'd and the Success of his first Voyage to Thrace from thence he directs his Course to Delos and asks the Oracle what place the Gods had appointed for his Habitation By a mistake of the Oracle's Answer he settles in Crete his household Gods give him the true sense of the Oracle in a Dream He follows their advice and makes the best of his way for Italy He is cast on several Shores and meets with very surprising Adventures 'till at length he lands on Sicily where his Father Anchises dies This is the place which he was sailing from when the Tempest rose and threw him upon the Carthaginian Coast To the Right Hon ble William Stanley Earle of Derby ct L d of Man y e Isles AE e. l. 2. WHen Heav'n had overturn'd the Trojan State And Priam's Throne by too severe a Fate When ruin'd Troy became the Grecians Prey And Ilium's lofty Tow'rs in Ashes lay Warn'd by Coelestial Omens we retreat To seek in foreign Lands a happier Seat Near old Antandros and at Ida's foot The Timber of the sacred Groves we cut And build our Fleet uncertain yet to find What place the Gods for our Repose assign'd Friends daily flock and scarce the kindly Spring Began to cloath the Ground and Birds to sing When old Anchises summon'd all to Sea The Crew my Father and the Fates obey With Sighs and Tears I leave my native Shore And empty Fields where Ilium stood before My Sire my Son our less and greater Gods All sail at once and tempt the briny Floods Against our Coast appears a spacious Land Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command Thracia the Name the People bold in War Vast are their Fields and Tillage is their Care A hospitable Realm while Fate was kind With Troy in friendship and Religion join'd I