were fit he should speak not only as a Man of this Nation, but as a Man of this Age; and if this Difguife I have put upon him (I wish I could give it a better Name) fit not naturally and easily on fo grave a Perfon, yet it may become him better than that Fools-Coat, wherein the French and Italians bave of late prefented him; at least, I hope it will not make him appear deformed, by making any part enormously bigger, or less than the Life, (I having made it my principal Care to follow him, as he made it his to follow Nature, in all his Proportions) neither have I any where offered fuch Violence to his Senfe, as to make it feem mine, and not his. Where my Expreffions are not fo full as his, either our Language, or my Art were defective, (but I rather fufpect my felf:) but where mine are fuller than his, they are but the Impreffions which the often reading of him hath left upon my Thoughts; fo that if they are not his own Conceptions, they are at least the Refults of them; and if (being confcious of making him speak worse than he did almost in every Line) I err in endeavouring sometimes to make him speak better; I hope it will be judged an Error on the right Hand, and fuch an one as may deferve Pardon, if not Imitation.
An ESSAY on the
Second Book of Virgil's Eneis.
Written in the Year 1636.
The first Book Speaks of Aneas his Voyage by Sea, and how being saft by Tempest upon the Coast of Carthage, he was received by Queen Dido, who after the Feaft, defires him to make the Relation of the Destruction of Troy; which is the Argument of this Book:
Hile all with Silence and Attention wait,
Thus fpeaks Eneas from the Bed of State; Madam, when you command us to review Our Fate, you make our old Wounds bleed anew, And all thofe Sorrows to my Senfe restore, Whereof none faw fo much, none fuffer'd more : Not the most cruel of our conqu❜ring Foes So unconcern'dly can relate our Woes, As not to lend a Tear; then how can I Reprefs the Horror of my Thoughts, which fly
The fad Remembrance? Now th' expiring Night
And the declining Stars to Rest invite;
Yet fince 'tis your Command, what you fo well
Are pleas'd to hear, I cannot grieve to tell.
By Fate repell'd, and with Repulses tir'd,
The Greeks, fo many Lives and Years expir'd,
A Fabrick like a moving Mountain frame,
Pretending Vows for their Return; this Fame
Divulges, then within the Beaft's vaft Womb
The Choice and Flow'r of all their Troops entomb ;
In view the Hle of Tenedos, once high,
In Fame and Wealth while Troy remain'd, doth lie, (Now but an unfecure and open Bay)
Thither by Stealth the Greeks their Fleet convey.
We gave them gone, and to Mycena fail'd,
And Troy reviv'd, her mourning Face unvail'd;
All through th'unguarded Gates with Joy resort
To fee the flighted Camp, the vacant Port;'
Here lay Ulyffes, there Achilles, here
The Battels join'd, the Grecian Fleet rode there;
But the vaft Pile, th' amazed Vulgar views,
Till they their Reason in their Wonder lofe.
And first Thymates moves (urg'd by the Pow'r
Of Fate, or Fraud) to place it in the Tow'r ;
But Capys and the graver fort thought fit
The Greeks fufpected Present to commit
To Seas or Flames, at least to fearch and bore
The Sides, and what that Space contains t'explore.
Th' uncertain Multitude with both engag'd,
Divided stands, till from the Tow'r, enrag'd
Laocoon ran, whom all the Crowd attends,
Crying, What defp'rate Frenzy's this, (oh Friends).
To think them gone? Judge rather their Retreat
But a Design, their Gifts but a Deceit ;
For our Destruction 'twas contriv'd no doubt,
Or from within by Fraud, or from without
By Force; yet know ye not Ulysses Shifts?
Their Swords lefs Danger carry than their Gifts.
(This faid) against the Horfe's Side his Spear
He throws, which trembles with inclofed Fear,
Whilft from the Hollows of his Womb proceed
Groans, not his own; and had not Fate decreed
Our Ruin, we had fill'd with Grècian Blood
ThePlace; then Troy and Priam's Throne had ftood.
Mean while a fetter'd Pris'ner to the King
With joyful Shouts the Dardan Shepherds bring,
Who to betray us did himself betray,
At once the Taker, and at once the Frey;
Firmly prepar'd, of one Event fecur'd,
Or of his Death or his Defign affur'd.
The Trojan Youth about the Captive flock,
To wonder, or to pity, or to mock.
Now hear the Grecian Fraud, and from this one
Conjecture all the reft!!
Difarm'd, disorder'd, cafting round his Eyes
On all the Troops that guarded him, he cries,
What Land, what Sea, for me what Fate attends?
Caught by my Foes, condemned by my Friends,
Incensed Troy a wretched Captive feeks
To facrifice; a Fugitive, the Greeks
To Pity this Complaint our former Rage
Converts, we now enquire his Parentage,
What of their Counfels or Affairs he knew:
Then fearless, he replies, Great King, to you
All Truth I fhall relate: Nor first can I
My felf to be of Gracian Birth deny ;
And though my outward State Misfortune hath
Depreft thus low, it cannot reach my Faith.
You may by chance have heard the famous Name
Of Palamede, who from old Belus came,
Whom, but for voting Peace, the Greeks pursue,
Accus'd unjustly, then unjustly flew,
Yet mourn'd his Death. My Father was his Friend,
And me to his Commands did recommend,
While Laws and Councils did his Throne fupport,
I but a Youth, yet fome Efteem and Port
We then did bear, till by Vlyffes Craft
(Things known I fpeak) he was of Life bereft : «
Since in dark Sorrow I my Days did spend,
Till now disdaining his unworthy End,
I could not filence my Complaints, but vow'd
Revenge, if ever Fate or Chance allow'd
My wifht Return to Greece; from hence his Hate,
From thence my Crimes, and all my Ills bear date:
Old Guilt fresh Malice gives; the Peoples Ears
He fills with Rumours, and their Hearts with Fears,
And then the Prophet to his Party drew.
But why do I these thankless Truths purfue;
Or why defer your Rage on me, for all
The Greeks, let your revenging Fury fall,
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