Poems (1717) :: :: University of Virginia Library

Virgil's Sixth Eclogue. SILENUS.

TRANSLATED.

The ARGUMENT.

Two young Shepherds, Chromis and Mnasylus, having been often promis'd a Song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep in this Eclogue; where they bind him Hand and Foot, and then claim his Promise. Silenus finding they wou'd be put off no longer, begins his Song; in which he describes the Formation of the Universe, and the Original of Animals, according to the Epicurean Philosophy; and then runs through the most surprising Transformations which have happen'd in Nature since her Birth. This Eclogue was design'd as a Complement to Syro the Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in the Principles of that Philosophy. Silenus acts as Tutor, Chromis and Mnasylus as the two Pupils.

I first of Romans stoop'd to Rural Strains,
Nor blush'd to dwell among

Virgil, in his Eclogue, imitates Theocritus, a Sicilian Poet.

Sicilian Swains,
When my

The name of the Rural Muse.

Thalia rais'd her bolder Voice,
And Kings and Battels were her lofty Choice,
Phœbus did kindly humbler Thoughts infuse,
And with this Whisper check th'aspiring Muse.
A Shepherd (Tityrus) his Flock should feed,
And chuse a Subject suited to his Reed.
Thus I (while each ambitious Pen prepares
To write thy Praises, Varus, and thy Wars)
My Past'ral Tribute in low Numbers pay,
And though I once presum'd, I only now obey.

But yet (if any with indulgent Eyes
Can look on this, and such a Trifle prize)
Thee only, Varus, our glad Swains shall sing,
And ev'ry Grove and ev'ry Eccho ring.
Phœbus delights in

Varus—A great Favourite of Augustus, the same that was kill'd in Germany, and lost the Roman Legions.

Varus Fav'rite Name,
And none who under that Protection came
Was ever ill receiv'd, or unsecure of Fame.

Proceed my Muse.

Some Interpreters think these were young Satyrs, others will have them Shepherds: I rather take them for Satyrs, because of their Names, which are never used for Shepherds, or any where (that I remember) but here.

Young Chromis and Mnasylus chanc'd to stray
Where (sleeping in a Cave) Silenus lay,
Whose constant Cups fly fuming to his Brain,
And always boil in each extended Vein;
His trusty Flaggon, full of potent Juice,
Was hanging by, worn thin with Age and Use;
Drop'd from his Head, a wreath lay on the Ground;
In haste they seiz'd him, and in haste they

Proteus, Pan, and Silenus would never tell what was desired, till they were bound.

bound;

Eager, for both had been deluded long
With fruitless hope of his instructive Song:
But while with conscious fear they doubtful stood,
Ægle, the fairest

The Latin word for a Water-Nymph.

Nais of the Flood,
With a

The Colour that Pan and Silenus lov'd best.

Virmilion Dye his Temples stain'd.
Waking, he smil'd, and must I then be chain'd?
Loose me, he cry'd; 'twas boldly done, to find
And view a God, but 'tis too bold to bind.
The promis'd Verse no longer I'll delay,
(She shall be satisfy'd another way.)

With that, he rais'd his tuneful Voice aloud,
The knotty Oaks their listning Branches bow'd,
And Savage Beasts, and Sylvan Gods did crowd;

For lo! he sung the World's stupendious Birth,
How scatter'd Seeds of Sea, and Air, and Earth,

And purer Fire, through universal Night
And empty Space, did fruitfully unite;
From whence th'innumerable Race of things,
By circular successive Order springs.

By what degrees this Earth's compacted Sphere
Was hardned, Woods and Rocks and Towns to bear;
How sinking Waters (the firm Land to drain)
Fill'd the capacious Deep, and form'd the Main,
While from above, adorn'd with radiant Light,
A new-born Sun surpriz'd the dazled Sight;
How Vapours turn'd to Clouds abscure the Sky,
And Clouds dissolv'd the thirsty Ground supply;
How the first Forest rais'd its shady Head,
Till when, few wandring Beasts on unknown Mountains fed.

Then Pyrrha's stony Race rose from the Ground,
Old Saturn reign'd with golden Plenty crown'd,

And bold Prometheus (whose untam'd Desire

Minerva delighted with the Art and Industry of Prometheus (who had made an Image of Clay so perfect that it wanted nothing but Life,) carried him up to Heav'n, where he lighted a Wand at the Chariot of the Sun, with which Fire he animated his Image. Ovid. 2. M.

Rival'd the Sun with his own heav'nly Fire)
Now doom'd the Scythian Vultures endless Prey,
Severely pays for animating Clay.
He nam'd the Nymph (for who but Gods cou'd tell?)
Into whose Arms the lovely

Favourite of Hercules, who was drown'd in a Well, which made the Poets say that a Nymph had stole him away. I use the word resounds (in the present Tense) because Strabo (who lived at the same time as Virgil) seems to intimate, that the Prusians continued then their annual Rites to his Memory, repeating his Name with loud Cries.

Hylas fell;
Alcides wept in vain for Hylas lost,
Hylas in vain resounds through all the Coast.

He with Compassion told Pasiphae's Fault,
Ah! wretched Queen! whence came that guilty Thought?
The

Daughters of Prætis King of Argus, who presum'd so much upon their Beauty, that they preferr'd it to Juno's, who in revenge struck them with such Madness that they thought themselves Cows. They were at last cured by Melampodes with Helebore, and for that reason, black Helebore is called Melampodion.

Maids of Argos, who with frantick Cries
And imitated lowings fill'd the Skies,
(Though metamorphos'd in their wild Conceit)
Did never burn with such unnat'ral Heat.
Ah! wretched Queen! while you on Mountains stray,
He on soft Flow'rs his snowy Side does lay;

Or seeks in Herds a more proportion'd Love:
Surround, my Nymphs, she cries, surround the Grove;
Perhaps some Footsteps printed in the Clay,
Will to my Love direct your wandring way;
Perhaps, while thus in search of him I rome,
My happier Rivals have intic'd him home.

He sung how Atalanta was betray'd
By those Hesperian Baits her Lover laid,
And the sad Sisters who to Trees were turn'd,
While with the World th'ambitious Brother burn'd.
All he describ'd was present to their Eyes,
And as he rais'd his Verse, the Poplars seem'd to rise.

He taught which Muse did by Apollo's Will
Guide wand'ring

An excellent Poet and great Friend of Virgil, he was afterwards Prætor of Ægypt, and being accused of some Conspiracy, or rather called upon for some Monies, of which he could give no good account, he kill'd himself. It is the same Gallus you read of in the last Eclogue: And Suidas says, that Virgil means him by Aristæus, in the divine Conclusion of his Georgicks.

Gallus to th'Aonian Hill:
(Which place the God for solemn meetings chose)
With deep respect the learned Senate rose,

And

Linus, Son of Apollo and Calliope.

Linus thus (deputed by the rest)
The Hero's welcome, and their thanks express'd:
This Harp of old to Hesiod did belong,
To this, the Muses Gift, join thy harmonious Song;
Charm'd by these Strings, Trees starting from the Ground,
Have follow'd with delight the pow'rful Sound.
Thus consecrated, thy

Consecrated to Apollo; by this he means some Poem writ upon that Subject by Gallus.

Grynæan Grove
Shall have no Equal in Apollo's Love.

Why shou'd I speak of the

Sylla, Daughter of Nisus King of Megara, who falling in Love with Minos, betrayed her Father and Country to him, but he abhorring her Treason, rejected her.

Megarian Maid,
For Love perfidious, and by Love betray'd?
And

Another Sylla, Daughter of Phorcis, whose lower Parts were turned into Dogs by Circe; and she, in despair, flung her self into the Sea.

her, who round with barking Monsters arm'd,
The wandring Greeks (ah frighted Men) alarm'd;

Ulysse's Ships were not lost, though Scylla devoured several of his Men.

Whose only Hope on shatter'd Ships depends,
While fierce Sea-dogs devour the mangled Friends.

Or tell the Thracian Tyrants alter'd Shape,
And dire Revenge of Philomela's Rape,

Who to those Woods directs her mournful course,
Where she had suffer'd by incestuous Force,
While loth to leave the Palace too well known,
Progne flies, hovering round, and thinks it still her own?

Whatever near

a River in Greece whose Banks were shaded with Laurels; Apollo retired thither to lament the Death of his dear Hyacinthus, whom he had accidentally killed.

Eurota's happy Stream
With Laurels crown'd had been Apollo's Theam,
Silenus sings; the neighbouring Rocks reply,
And send his Mystick Numbers through the Sky;
Till Night began to spread her gloomy Veil,
And call'd the counted Sheep from ev'ry Dale;
The weaker Light unwillingly declin'd,
And to prevailing Shades the murm'ring World resign'd.

My Aim being only to have Virgil understood by such who do not understand Latin, and cannot (probably) be acquainted with some Names and Passages of this Eclogue, I have directed them by Figures to the Postscript, where they will find the best account that I can give, of all that is out of the common Road.