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Medulla Poetarum Romanorum

Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker

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Fray.

A stag there was, of comely Shape, and tall
With branching Horns: whom ravish'd from his Dam
The Sons of Tyrrheus nourish'd.—
This Beast, accustom'd to their gentle Rule,
Their Sister Sylvia with uncommon Care
Adorn'd, and with soft Wreaths his Antlers crown'd,
And comb'd, and wash'd him in the limpid Stream.
He, patient of the Hand, his Master's Board
Attended: wander'd in the Woods: at Night,
Tho' late, spontaneous to his Home return'd.
Him, at a Distance straying, in the Chace,
The eager Dogs of young Jülus rous'd:
As gliding down the Stream by Chance he swam,
And on the grassy Bank allay'd the Heat.
Ascanius' self, inflam'd with Thirst of Praise,
Levell'd an Arrow from his bended Bow.
—The Shaft, with hissing Sound,
Driv'n thro' the hollow Flank and Entrails flew.
To his lov'd Home the wounded Beast repairs:
Bloody, and groaning, enters his known Stall,
Like One imploring: and with plaintive Noise
Fills all the House. Their Sister Sylvia first,
Shrieking with loud Laments, her Bosom beats,

389

And calls the sturdy Peasants to her Aid.
They, startled, at the Summons strait appear:
One with a Firebrand, with a knotty Stake
Another arm'd: whate'er they find at Hand
Rage makes a Weapon.—
And now Alecto, Fury come from Hell,
This Juncture fit for Mischief having gain'd,
Ascends the Stall; and on it's Summit sounds
The rustick Charge, and thro' the crooked Horn
Swells her Tartarean Voice.—
Swift to the Sound, where-e'er the shrill Horn gave
The direful Signal, snatching up their Arms,
From ev'ry Part the hardy Peasants run:
And, from their open Tents, the Trojan Youth
Pour out their Forces to Ascanius' Aid.
They form their Ranks: nor now in rustick Fray
With knotty Clubs, or sharpen'd Stakes they fight,
But with the two-edg'd Steel: And all around
Rises a horrid Crop of Swords unsheath'd:
Their Arms against the Sun reflected Shine,
And to the Clouds flash back a brighter Ray.—

Trap. Virg. Æn. Lib. VII.


He said: and running forwards hurl'd a Dart
Amidst the Throng of Foes: the well aim'd Ash
Flies on direct, and hissing cuts the Air.
A thund'ring Shout succeeds: Then all the Ranks
Tumultuous take th' Alarm, and burn with Rage.
Some draw their Swords, some snatch the missive Steel,
And blind rush on: 'Gainst them th' Ausonian Troops,
Resisting, croud: To These again oppos'd
A Tide of Trojans, by th' Arcadians join'd
With painted Arms, and all Agylla's Youth:
All with like Ardor fir'd to end the Strife
By open War: They hurl the Altars down:
An Iron Tempest, and a Storm of Darts
Hovers aloft, and blackens all the Sky.
The sacred Hearths and Goblets They o'er-turn:
Latinus' self, the League now broken, flies,
And carries back his disappointed Gods.

391

Some rein their Chariots, or with active Bound
Leap on their Steeds, and with drawn Weapons run.—

Id. Æn. XII.


Within the Palace Walls was heard aloud,
The roaring Clamour of the noisy Crowd:
Not like the Songs which chearful Friends prepare
For nuptial Days, but Sounds that threaten War:
And all the Pleasures of this happy Feast,
To tumult turn'd, in wild Disorder ceas'd.
Thus, when the Seas are calm, we often find
A sudden Storm rais'd by some furious Wind.—

Maynw. Ovid. Met. Lib. V.


To Arms, to Arms they call: A Medly-Flight
Of Bowls, and Jars, at first supply the Fight,
Once Instruments of Feasts, but now of Fate:
Wine animates their Rage, and Arms their Hate.—

Dryd. Ovid. Met. Lib. XII.