The Poems of John Byrom Edited by Adolphus William Ward |
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AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND, PROPOSING A CORRECTION IN THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE |
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The Poems of John Byrom | ||
502
I. AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND, PROPOSING A CORRECTION IN THE FOLLOWING PASSAGE
“Si non Acrisium Virginis abditæ
Custodem pavidum, Jupiter et Venus
Risissent.
—Lib. iii., Od. 16, vv. 5–7.
Custodem pavidum, Jupiter et Venus
Risissent.
—Lib. iii., Od. 16, vv. 5–7.
If Jupiter and Venus had not laughed at Acrisius, the affrighted keeper
of the concealed virgin.”
503
So then, you think Acrisius really sold
His Daughter Danae, himself, for Gold;
When the whole Story of the Grecian King
Makes such a Bargain so absurd a Thing,
That neither Poetry nor Sense could make
The Poet guilty of the vile Mistake!
His Daughter Danae, himself, for Gold;
When the whole Story of the Grecian King
Makes such a Bargain so absurd a Thing,
That neither Poetry nor Sense could make
The Poet guilty of the vile Mistake!
No, Sir; her Father, here, was rich enough;
Satire on him, for selling her, is Stuff.
Fear was his Motive to a vast Expense
Of Gates and Guards to keep her in a Fence;
But some dull Blockhead, happ'ning to transcribe
When half asleep, has made Him take the Bribe,
Which Jupiter and Venus, as the Bard
Had writ, made use of to corrupt the Guard.
All the Remarks on Avarice are just,
But 'twas the Keeper that betray'd his Trust.
Satire on him, for selling her, is Stuff.
Fear was his Motive to a vast Expense
Of Gates and Guards to keep her in a Fence;
But some dull Blockhead, happ'ning to transcribe
When half asleep, has made Him take the Bribe,
Which Jupiter and Venus, as the Bard
Had writ, made use of to corrupt the Guard.
504
But 'twas the Keeper that betray'd his Trust.
Passage from Virgil which you here select us,
How Gold is “cogent of mortale pectus,”
And from Euripides, that “Gold can ope
Gates”—unattempted even by the Pope—
Show Money's Force on Subjects that are vicious;
But what has this to do with King Acrisius,
Who spar'd no Money to secure his Life,
Lost, if his Daughter once became a Wife?
He shut her up for fear of Death, and then
Sold her himself?—All Stuff! I say again.
Death was his dread; nor was it in the Pow'r
Of Love's Bewitchment, or of Money'd Show'r,
Of Venus, Jupiter, or all the Fry
Of Homer's Heav'n, to hire the Man to die.
How Gold is “cogent of mortale pectus,”
And from Euripides, that “Gold can ope
Gates”—unattempted even by the Pope—
Show Money's Force on Subjects that are vicious;
But what has this to do with King Acrisius,
Who spar'd no Money to secure his Life,
Lost, if his Daughter once became a Wife?
He shut her up for fear of Death, and then
Sold her himself?—All Stuff! I say again.
Death was his dread; nor was it in the Pow'r
Of Love's Bewitchment, or of Money'd Show'r,
Of Venus, Jupiter, or all the Fry
Of Homer's Heav'n, to hire the Man to die.
Where is his Avarice, of any Kind,
Noted in all the Fables that you find,
Except in those of your inventing Fashion
That make him old, and Avarice his Passion,—
To hide the Blunder of Amanuenses,
Who, writing Words, full oft unwrit the Senses?
Fact that in Horace, in a World of Places,
Appears by irrecoverable Traces;
On which the Critics raise a learned Dust,
And, still adjusting, never can adjust;
Having but one of all the Roman Lyrics
To feed their Taste for slavish Panegyrics;
The more absurd the Manuscriptal Letter,
They paint from thence some fancied Beauty better;
Hunting for all the Colours, round about,
To make the Nonsense beautifully out;
Adorning richly, for the Poet's Sake,
Some poor hallucinating Scribe's Mistake.
Noted in all the Fables that you find,
Except in those of your inventing Fashion
That make him old, and Avarice his Passion,—
505
Who, writing Words, full oft unwrit the Senses?
Fact that in Horace, in a World of Places,
Appears by irrecoverable Traces;
On which the Critics raise a learned Dust,
And, still adjusting, never can adjust;
Having but one of all the Roman Lyrics
To feed their Taste for slavish Panegyrics;
The more absurd the Manuscriptal Letter,
They paint from thence some fancied Beauty better;
Hunting for all the Colours, round about,
To make the Nonsense beautifully out;
Adorning richly, for the Poet's Sake,
Some poor hallucinating Scribe's Mistake.
Now, I would have a Short-hand Son of mine
Be less obsequious to the Classic Line,
Than, right or wrong, to yield his Approbation,
Because Homeric, or because Horatian;
Or not to see, when it is fairly hinted,
Either original Defect or printed.
Not that it matters Two-pence, in Regard
Of either Grecian or of Roman Bard,
If Schools were wise enough to introduce
Much better Books for Education's Use!
But since, by force of Custom or of Lash,
The Boys must wade thro' so much Traunt and Trash
To gain their Greek and Latin, they should learn
True Greek, at least, and Latin to discern;
Nor, for the sake of Custom, to admit
The Faults of Language, Metre, Sense, or Wit.
Because this blind Attachment by Command
To what their Masters do not understand,
Makes Reading servile, in the younger Flock,
Of riming Horace down to prosing Locke;
Knowledge is all mechanically known,
And no innate Idéas of their own.
Be less obsequious to the Classic Line,
Than, right or wrong, to yield his Approbation,
Because Homeric, or because Horatian;
Or not to see, when it is fairly hinted,
Either original Defect or printed.
Not that it matters Two-pence, in Regard
Of either Grecian or of Roman Bard,
506
Much better Books for Education's Use!
But since, by force of Custom or of Lash,
The Boys must wade thro' so much Traunt and Trash
To gain their Greek and Latin, they should learn
True Greek, at least, and Latin to discern;
Nor, for the sake of Custom, to admit
The Faults of Language, Metre, Sense, or Wit.
Because this blind Attachment by Command
To what their Masters do not understand,
Makes Reading servile, in the younger Flock,
Of riming Horace down to prosing Locke;
Knowledge is all mechanically known,
And no innate Idéas of their own.
But, while I'm riming to you what comes next,
I shall forget th' Acrisius of the Text.
Your Reasons, then, why this “Custodem pavidum”
Should not be chang'd to “Custodemque avidum,”
Turn upon Avarice. You think the Father,
Fond of the Bribe,—I think, the Keeper rather,
Who had no Fear from Danaë, the Wife
Who could receive the Gold and lose no Life,—
Must needs be he; and that, without the Change,
The Verse is unpoetically strange.
I shall forget th' Acrisius of the Text.
Your Reasons, then, why this “Custodem pavidum”
Should not be chang'd to “Custodemque avidum,”
Turn upon Avarice. You think the Father,
Fond of the Bribe,—I think, the Keeper rather,
Who had no Fear from Danaë, the Wife
Who could receive the Gold and lose no Life,—
Must needs be he; and that, without the Change,
The Verse is unpoetically strange.
You make Acrisius to have been the Guard,
And to be “Pavidus.”—Extremely hard
To make out either! For what other Place
Shows that the King was Jailer in the Case?
And is not “Pavidus” a dictum gratis?
Was not his Danaë, “munita satis,”
“Safe kept enough?” If “pavidus” come after,
The “Dear Joy” Horace must provoke one's Laughter,
Plain common Sense suggesting, all the while:
“Not Fear, but fancied Safety gave the Smile.”
Safe as Acrisius thought himself to be,
The “Custos avidus” would take a Fee;
A golden shower, they knew, would break his Oath,
And Jupiter and Venus laugh'd at both.
And to be “Pavidus.”—Extremely hard
507
Shows that the King was Jailer in the Case?
And is not “Pavidus” a dictum gratis?
Was not his Danaë, “munita satis,”
“Safe kept enough?” If “pavidus” come after,
The “Dear Joy” Horace must provoke one's Laughter,
Plain common Sense suggesting, all the while:
“Not Fear, but fancied Safety gave the Smile.”
Safe as Acrisius thought himself to be,
The “Custos avidus” would take a Fee;
A golden shower, they knew, would break his Oath,
And Jupiter and Venus laugh'd at both.
The Poems of John Byrom | ||