96 From the first copy I have procured a few transcripts', and shall exhibit first the printed lines; then, in a smaller print, those of the manuscripts, with all their variations. Those words in the small print which are given in Italicks, are cancelled in the copy, and the words placed under them adopted in their stead. The beginning of the first book stands thus:
'The wrath of Peleus' son, the direful spring
Of all the Grecian woes, O Goddess, sing!
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain.
The stern Pelides' rage, O Goddess, sing!
wrath
Of all the woes of Greece the fatal spring,
That strow'd with warriors dead the Phrygian plain,
heroes
And peopled the dark shades with heroes slain;
fill'd the shady hell with chiefs untimely
Whose limbs, unbury'd on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore,
Since great Achilles and Atrides strove;
Such was the sov'reign doom, and such the will of Jove.
Whose limbs, unbury'd on the hostile shore,
Devouring dogs and greedy vultures tore,
Since first Atrides and Achilles strove;
Such was the sov'reign doom, and such the will of Jove.
Declare, O Muse, in what ill-fated hour
Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended Pow'r!
Latona's son a dire contagion spread,
And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead;
The King of Men his rev'rend priest defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.
Declare, O Goddess! what offended Pow'r
Enflam'd their rage, in that ill-omen'd hour;
fatal, hapless
Phœbus himself the dire debate procur'd,
T' avenge the wrongs his injur'd priest endur'd;
For this the God a dire infection spread,
And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead:
The King of Men the sacred Sire defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.
field. Pope's Works (Elwin and Courthope), ix. 485-91; post, POPE, 161 n.
By Mrs. Thrale. Cunningham's
Lives of the Poets, iii. 32. [They are not always accurate. See App. at end of vol. iii.]
For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable father stands,
Apollo's awful ensigns grace his hands,
By these he begs, and, lowly bending down,
Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown.
For Chryses sought by presents to regain
costly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable father stands,
Apollo's awful ensigns grac'd his hands,
By these he begs, and, lowly bending down,
The golden scepter and the laurel crown,
Presents the scepter
For these as ensigns of his God he bare,
The God who sends the flying darts afar;
Then low on earth, the venerable man,
Suppliant before the brother kings began.
He su'd to all, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race;
Ye kings and warriors, may your vows be crown'd,
And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.
To all he sued, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race.
Ye sons of Atreus, may your vows be crown'd,
kings and warriors
Your labours By the Gods be all your labours crown'd,
Till Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
And
So may the Gods your arms with conquest bless,
And crown your labours with desir'd success;
May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.
But, oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,
And give Chryseis to these arms again;
If mercy fail, yet let my present move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, son of Jove.
But, oh! relieve a hapless parent's pain,
And give my daughter to these arms again;
Receive my gifts If mercy fails, yet let these treasures move,
And fear the God who deals his darts around,
avenging Phoebus, son of Jove.
The Greeks, in shouts, their joint assent declare
The priest to rev'rence, and release the fair.
Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus reply'd.
He said, the Greeks their joint assent declare,
The father said, the gen'rous Greeks relent,
T' accept the ransom, and restore the fair :
Revere the priest, and speak their joint assent:
Not so the tyrant; he, with kingly pride,
Atrides,
Repuls'd the sacred Sire, and thus defy'd.'
[Not so the tyrant. DRYDEN.]
Of these lines, and of the whole first book, I am told that there was yet a former copy, more varied, and more deformed with interlineations.
The beginning of the second book varies very little from the printed page, and is therefore set down without any parallel : the few slight differences do not require to be elaborately displayed.
'Now pleasing sleep had seal'd each mortal eye;
Stretch'd in the tents the Grecian leaders lye;
Th' Immortals slumber'd on their thrones above,
All but the ever-wakeful eye of Jove.
To honour Thetis' son he bends his care,
And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.
Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight,
And thus commands the vision of the night:
Fly hence, delusive dream, and, light as air,
To Agamemnon's royal tent repair;
Bid him in arms draw forth th' embattled train,
March all his legions to the dusty plain.
Now tell the King 'tis giv'n him to destroy
The lofty walls of wide-extended Troy;
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend;
At Juno's suit the heav'nly factions end.
Destruction hovers o'er yon devoted wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th' impending fall.'
Invocation to the Catalogue of Ships.
Say, Virgins, seated round the throne divine,
All-knowing Goddesses! immortal Nine!
Since earth's wide regions, heav'n's unmeasur'd height,
And hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight,
(We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below,
But guess by rumour, and but boast we know)
Oh say what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame,
Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came!
To count them all, demands a thousand tongues,
A throat of brass and adamantine lungs.
Now, Virgin Goddesses, immortal Nine!
That round Olympus' heavenly summit shine',
Who see through heav'n and earth, and hell profound,
And all things know, and all things can resound;
Relate what armies sought the Trojan land,
What nations follow'd, and what chiefs command;
(For doubtful Fame distracts mankind below,
And nothing can we tell, and nothing know)
Without your aid, to count th' unnumber'd train,
A thousand mouths, a thousand tongues were vain 2.'
'But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires,
Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires:
Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise,
And crown her hero with distinguish'd praise.
High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
His beamy shield emits a living ray;
Th' unweary'd blaze incessant streams supplies,
Like the red star that fires th' autumnal skies.
But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires,
Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fires
High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
From his broad buckler flash'd the living ray,
His beamy shield emits a living ray.
The Goddess with her breath the flame supplies,
Her breath divine thick streaming flames supplies,
Bright as the star whose fires in Autumn rise;
Bright as the star that fires
[This line is cancelled and over it written :-'Who high above possess your seats divine.']
[ The last six lines are cancelled, and 'We, wretched mortals!' &c., as
in the 1st ed. of Pope's Iliad, written in the copy.]
[3 The last two lines of this passage as printed in the Lives are omitted. They are not in the MS.]
When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And bath'd in ocean shoots a keener light.
Such glories Pallas on the chief bestow'd,
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd;
Onward she drives him furious to engage,
Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage.
Fresh from the deep, and gilds the seas and skies.
When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
And gilds old Ocean with a blaze of light.
Such glories Pallas on her chief bestow'd,
Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flow'd,
Onward she drives him headlong to engage,
Where the war bleeds, and where the fiercest rage. fight burns,
The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault;
In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led,
The sons to toils of glorious battel bred;
There liv'd a Trojan, Dares was his name,
The priest of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame;
The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault.'
Conclusion of Book VIII. v. 687.
'As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heav'n's clear azure sheds her sacred light;
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole:
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies;
The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimm'ring Xanthus with their rays;
The long reflections of the distant fires
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires:
A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,
And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field;
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
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