Ovid's Metamorphoses in fifteen books. Translated by the most eminent hands. Adorn'd with sculptures:

PREFACE.

_THE Method I propose in writing this Preface, is to take Notice of some of the Beauties of the Metamorphoses, and also of the Faults, and particular Affectations. After which I shall proceed to hint at some Rules for Translation in ge|neral; and shall give a short Account of the following Version.

I shall not pretend to impose my Opinion on others with the magisterial Authority of a Critic; but only take the Liberty of discovering my own Taste. I shall endeavour to show our Poet's Redundance of Wit, Justness of Comparisons, Elegance of Descriptions, and peculiar Delicacy in touch|ing every Circumstance relating to the Passions, and Affections; and with the same Impartiality, and Frankness, I shall confess the too frequent Pueri|lities of his luxuriant Fancy, and the too great Negligence of his some|times unlabour'd Versification.

I am not of an Opinion, too common to Translators, to think that One is under an Obligation to extoll every thing he finds in the Author he un|dertakes: I am sure one is no more oblig'd to do so, than a Painter is to make every Face that sits to him handsome. 'Tis enough if he sets the best Features he finds in their full, and most advantageous Light. But if the Poet has private Deformities, tho' Good-breeding will not allow to expose him naked, yet surely there can be no Reason to recommend him, as the most finish'd Model of Harmony, and Proportion.

Whoever has this undistinguishing Complaisance, will not fail to vitiate the Taste of the Readers, and misguide many of them in their Judgment, where to Approve, and where to Censure.

It must be granted, that where there appears an infinite Variety of ini|mitable Excellencies, it would be too harsh, and disingenuous to be severe on such Faults, as have escap'd rather thro' want of Leisure, and Opportunity to correct, than thro' the erroneous Turn of a deprav'd Judgment. How sensible Ovid himself was of the Uncorrectness of the Metamorphoses, ap|pears from these Lines prefix'd before some of the Editions by the Care of his Commentators;

* 1.1Orba parente suo quicunque Volumina tangis, His saltem veslrâ detur in urbe locus. Quò{que} magis saveas; non sunt haec edita ab Illo, Sed quasi de domini funere rapta sui. Quicquid in his igitur vilii rude carmen habebit, Emendaturus, si licuisses, erat.

Since therefore the Readers are not solemnly invited to an Entertainment, but come accidentally; they ought to be contented with what they find: And pray what have they to complain of, but too great Variety? where, tho' some of the Dishes be not serv'd in the exactest Order, and Politeness, but hash'd up in haste; there are a great many accommodated to every par|ticular Palate.

To like every thing, shows too little Delicacy; and to like nothing, too much Difficulty. So great is the Variety of this Poem, that the Reader, who is never pleas'd, will appear as monstrous, as he that is always so. Here are the Hurries of Battles for the Heroe, tender Emotions of Soul for the Lover, a Search, and Penetration into Nature for the Philosopher, Fluency of Numbers, and most expressive Figures for the Poet, Morals for the Seri|ous, and Plaisantries for Admirers of Points of Wit.

'Tis certain a Poet is more to be suspected for saying too much, than too little. To add is often hazardous; but to retrench, commonly judicious. If our Author, instead of saying all he could, had only said all he should; Daphne had done well to fly from the God of Wit, in order to crown his Poet: Thus Ovid had been more honour'd, and ador'd in his Exile, than Augustus in his Triumphs.

I shall now attempt to give some Instances of the Happiness, and vast Ex|tent of our Author's Imagination. I shall not proceed according to the Order of the Poem, but rather transcribe some Lines here, and there, as my Reflection shall suggest.

Nec circumsuso pendebat in aere tellus Ponderibus librata suis—

Thus was the State of Nature before the Creation: And here it is obvi|ous, that Ovid had a discerning Notion of the Gravitation of Bodies. 'Tis now demonstrated, that every Part of Matter tends to every Part of Matter with a Force, which is always in a direct simple Proportion of the Quantity of the Matter, and an inverse duplicate Proportion of the Distance; which Ten|dency, or Gravitating is constant, and universal. This Power, whatever it be, acting always proportionably to the solid Content of Bodies, and never in any Proportion to their Superficies; cannot be explain'd by any material Impulse. For the Laws of Impulse are physically necessary: There can be no 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, or arbitrary Principle in meer Matter; its Parts cannot move unless they be mov'd; and cannot do otherwise, when press'd on by other Parts in Motion; and therefore 'tis evident from the following Lines, that Ovid strictly adher'd to the Opinion of the most discerning Philosophers, who taught that all things were form'd by a wise, and intelligent Mind.

Jussit & extendi campos, subsidere valles, Fronde tegi sylvas—

The Fiat of the Hebrew Law-giver is not more sublime, than the Jussit of the Latin Poet, who goes on in the same Elevated, and Philosophical Style.

His super imposuit liquidum, & gravitate carentem Aethera—

Here the Author spreads a thin Veil of Aether over his Infant Creation; and tho' his asserting the upper Region to be void of Gravitation, may not, in a Mathematical Rigour, be true; yet 'tis found from the Natural Enquities made since, and especially from the learned Dr. Hally's Discourse on the Barometer, that if, on the Surface of the Earth, an Inch of Quicksilver in the Tube be equal to a Cylinder of Air of 300 Foot, it will be at a Mile's height equal to a Cylinder of Air of 2700000: and therefore the Air at so great a Distance from the Earth, must be rarify'd to so great a Degree, that the Space it fills must bear a very small Proportion to that which is entirely void of Matter.

I think, we may be confident from what already appears, as well as from what our Author has writ on the Roman Feasts, that he cou'd not be total|ly ignorant of Astronomy. Some of the Criticks wou'd insinuate from the following Lines, that he mistook the annual Motion of the Sun for the Diurnal.

* 1.2Sectus in obliquum—

Tho' the Sun be always in one or other of the Signs of the Zodiack, and never goes by either Motion more Northward, or Southward, than is here describ'd; Yet Phaeton being design'd to drive the Chariot but one Day, ought to have been directed in the Aequator, or a Circle Parallel to it, and not round the other Oblique one of the Ecliptick: a Degree of which, and that by a Motion contrary to the Diurnal, he was obliged to go in that length of Time.

I am inclin'd to think, that Ovid had so great an Attention to Poetical Embelishments, that he voluntarily declin'd a strict Observance of any Astro|nomical System. For tho' that Science was far from being neglected in former Ages; yet the Progress which was made in it, by no means equall'd that of our present Time.

Lucretius, tho' in other things most penetrating, describes the Sun scarce bigger, than he appears to the Eye.

Nec nimio solis major rota, nec minor ardor Esse potest, nostris quam sensibus esse videtur.

And Homer, imagining the Seats of the Gods above the fix'd Stars, re|presents the falling of Vulcan from thence to the Isle of Lemnos, to conti|nue during a whole Day.

* 1.3〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉—

The Greek Poet aims here to give a surprising Idea of the height of the Celestial Mansions: but if the Computation of a modern Astronomer be

true, they are at so much a greater Distance, that Vulcan wou'd have been more Years in falling, than he was Minutes.

But least I shou'd exceed the usual Length of a Preface, I shall now give some Instances of the Propriety of our Author's Similes, and Epithets; the Perspicuity of his Allegories; the Instructive Excellence of the Morals; the peculiar happy Turn of his Fancy; and shall begin with the Elegance of his Descriptions.

* 1.4—Madidis Notus evolat alis, Terribilem piceâ tectus caligine vultum. Barba gravis nimbis, canis fluit unda capillis, Fronte sedent nebulae, rorant pennaeque, sinusque. — Sternuntur segetes, & deplorata coloni Vota jacent, longique labor perit irritus anni.

These Lines introduce those of the Deluge, which are also very Poetical, and worthy to be compar'd with the next, concerning the Golden Age.

—Sine militis usu Mollia securae peragebant otia gentes. Ipsa quoque immunis rastroque intacta, nec ullis Saucia vomeribus, per se dabat omnia tellus. Contentique cibis, nullo cogente, creatis, Arbuteos foetus, montanaque sraga legebant, Et quae deciderant patulâ Jovis arbore glandes. Ver erat aeternum, placidique tepentibus auris Mulcebant Zephyri natos sine semine flores.

Virgil has also touch'd upon the same Subject in the end of the Second Georgick.

Aureus hanc vitam in terris Saturnus agebat, Nec dum etiam audierant inflari classica, nec dum Impositos duris crepitare incudibus enses.

And again

* 1.5Primus ab aetherio venit Saturnus Olympo— Aurea, quae perhibent, illo sub rege suerunt Saecula: sic placidà populos in pace regebat.

Some of the Lines, a little foreign to the present Subject, are omitted; but I shall make the most admirable Author amends by transcribing at length his next Description. 'Tis of a Stag, which gave the first Occasion to the War betwixt the Trojans and the Rutulians: I chuse this, because my De|sign is to have these two great Poets seen together, where the Subject hap|pens to be almost the same, tho' the Nature of the Poems be very different.

* 1.6Cervus erat sormâ praestanti, & cornibus ingens, Tyrreidae pueri, quem matris ab ubere raptum

Nutribant, Tyrrheusque pater, cui regia parent Armenta, & latè custodia credita campi. Assuetum imperiis soror omni Sylvia curâ Mollibus intexens ornabat cornua sertis: Pectebatque ferum, puroque in fonte lavabat. Ille manûm patiens, mensaeque assuetus herili Errabat sylvis—

The Image which Ovid gives of the Favourite Stag slain accidentally by Cyparissus, seems not of less Dignity.

Ingens cervus erat, latéque patentibus altas Ipse suo capiti praebebat cornibus umbras: Cornua fulgebant auro, demissaque in armos Pendebant tereti gemmata monilia collo. Bulla super frontem parvis argentea loris Vincta movebatur: parilique ex aere nitebant Auribus in geminis circum cava tempora baccae. Isque metu vacuus, naturalique pavore Deposito, celebrare domos, mulcendaque colla Quamlibet ignotis manibus praebere solebat. Gratus erat Cyparisse tibi, Tu pabula cervum Ad nova, tu liquidi ducebas fontis ad undam. — Tu modo texebas varios per cornua flores: Nunc, eques in tergo residens, huc latus & illuc Mollia purpureis fraenabas ora capistris.

In the following Lines, Ovid describes the watry Court of the River Pe|neus, which the Reader may compare with Virgil's Subterranean Grott of Cyrene the Naïad, Mother to Aristaeus.

* 1.7Est nemus Haemoniae, praerupta quod undique claudit Silva: vocant Tempe, per quae Penëus ab imo Effusus Pindo spumosis volvitur undis: Dejectuque gravi tenues agitantia sumos Nubila conducit, summasque aspergine sylvas Impluit; & sonitu plus quam vicina fatigat. Haec domus, hae sedes, haec sunt penetralia magni Amnis: in hoc residens sacto de cautibus antro. Undis jura dabat, Nymphisque colentibus undas. Conveniunt illuc popularia slumina primum; Nescia gratentur, consolenturvé parentem, Populiser Spercheos, & irrequietus Enipeus, Eridanusque senex, lenisque Amphrysos, & Aeas. Moxque amnes alii, qui, quà tulit impetus illes, In mare deducunt sesas erroribus undas.

* 1.8Tristis Aristaeus Penei genitoris ad undam Stat lacrymans—

— Jamque domum mirans genetricis, & humida regna, Speluncisque lacus clausos, lucosque sonantes, Ibat; & ingenti motu stupefactus aquarum, Omnia sub magnâ labentia flumina terrâ Spectabat diversa locis, Phasimque, Lycumque, Et caput, unde altus primum se erumpit Enipeus, Unde pater Tiberinus, & unde Aniena fluenta, Et gemina auratus taurino cornua vultu Eridanus, quo non alius per pinguia culta In mare purpureum violentior influit amnis.

The Divine Poet goes on in Pomp of Numbers, and easy Magnificence of Words, till he introduces the Story of Orpheus and Euridice; in the Narration of which, he is as much superior to Ovid, as the Reeds of his own Mantuan Shepherds are less Musical, than the Lyre of Orpheus.

That I may not be too long on this Article, I shall recommend to the Reader, Ovid's admirable Description of Sleep—Est prope Cimmerios—* 1.9

• That of Hunger—Est locus extremis Scythiae—* 1.10
• That of the Plague—Dira lues—* 1.11
• That of Fame—Orbe locus medio est—* 1.12

Virgil has also touch'd on the two last; in the one he had Lucretius in View; in the other, Homer: and I think it will not be to the Disadvantage of our Author to appear at the same time.

There are many other Descriptions scatter'd in the Metamorphoses, which, for just Expression of Nature, and Majestick Modulation of Words, are on|ly Inferior to those already transcrib'd, as they are shorter; which makes the Objection, that his Diction is commonly loytring into Prose, a great deal too severe.

The Metamorphoses must be consider'd, as is observ'd before, very un|correct; and Virgil's Works as finish'd: tho' his own Modesty wou'd not allow the Aeneids to be so. It seems it was harder for him to please himself, than his Readers. His Judgment was certainly great, nor was his Vivacity of Imagination less; for the first without the last is too heavy, and like a Dress without Fancy; and the last without the first is too gay, and but all Trimming.

Our Author's Similitudes are next to be consider'd, which are always re|markably short, and convey some pleasing Idea to the Imagination. 'Tis in this Branch of the Poem, that he has discover'd as just a Judgement, as a|ny of the Classicks whatever. Poets, to give a Loose to a warm Fancy, are generally too apt, not only to expatiate in their Simile's, but introduce them too frequently; by doing the first, they detain the Attention too long from the principal Narration; and by the latter, they make too frequent Breaches in the Unity of the Poem.

Those two Errors Ovid has most discerningly avoided. How short, and significant are generally his Comparisons! he fails not, in these, to keep a stiff Rein on a High-mettled Pegasus; and takes care not to surfeit here, as he has done on other Heads, by an erroneous Abundance.

His Simile's are thicker sown by much in the Fable of Salmacis, and Her|maphroditus, than in any other Book, but always short.

The Nymph clasps the Youth close to her Breast, and both insensibly grow one.

* 1.13—Velut si quis conducto cortice ramos Crescendo jungi, pariterque adolescere cernat.

Again, as Atlanta reddens in the Race with H••ppomenes,

* 1.14Inque puellari corpus candore ruborem Traxerat; haud aliter quam cum super atria velum Candida purpureum simulatas inficit umbras.

Philomela's Tongue seem'd to move after it was cut out by Tereus.

* 1.15Utque salire solet mutilatae cauda colubrae, Palpitat—

Cadmus sows the Dragons Teeth, and the Sons of the Earth rise gradually.

* 1.16Inde fide majus glebae cepêre moveri; Primaque de sulcis acies apparuit hastae; Tegmina mox capitum picto nutantia cono, Mox humeri, pectusque— Sic ubi tolluntur festis aulaea theatris Surgere signa solent, primumque ostendere vultum, Caetera paulatim, placidoque educta tenore Tota patent, imoque pedes in margine ponunt.

The Objection to Ovid, that he never knows when to give over, is too manifest. Tho' he frequently expatiates on the same Thought, in different Words; yet in his Simile's, that Exuberance is avoided. There is in them all a Simplicity, and a Confinement to the present Object; always a Fecun|dity of Fancy, but rarely an Intemperance: nor do I remember he has err'd above once by an ill-judg'd Superfluity. After he has describ'd the Labyrinth built by Daedalus, he compares it thus,

* 1.17Non secus ac liquidus Phrygiis Maenandros in arvis Ludit, & ambiguo lapsu refluitque, sluitque; Et nunc ad sontes, nunc ad mare versus apertum Incertas exercet aquas—

He should have ended at the close of the Second Line, as Virgil should have done at the end of the Fourth in his noble Similè, where Dido proceeds to the Temple with her Court about her.

* 1.18Qualis in Eurotae ripis, aut per juga Cynthi Exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutae Hinc, atque hinc glomerantur Orëades, illa pharetram Fert humero, gradiensque deas supereminet omnes: Latonae tacitum pertentant gaudia pectus.

I see no Reason for the last Line: Tho' the Poet be justly celebrated for a most consummate Judgment, yet by an Endeavour to imitate Homer's Simile's, he is not only very long, but by introducing several Circumstan|ces, he fails of an applicable Relation betwixt the principal Subject, and his new Ideas. He sometimes thinks fit to work into the Piece some diffe|ring Embroidery, which, tho' very rich, yet makes at best but glorious Patch|work. I really believe his excellent Poem had not been the less so, if, in this Article, he had thought fit to have walk'd on in his own regular and Majestick Grace, rather than have been hurry'd forward through broken By-ways by his blind Guide.

I shall transcribe one of his Simile's which is not cull'd out, but exactly of the same Texture with all the rest in the four last Books of the Aeneids.

Turnus leaps in Fury from his Chariot.

* 1.19Ac veluti montis saxum de vertice praeceps Cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber Proluit, aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas, Fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu Exultatque solo, sylvas, armenta, virosque Involvens secum—

It does not seem to be at all Material, whether the Rock was blown, or wash'd down by Wind, or Rain, or undermin'd by Time.

But to return to Ovid; the Reader may take Notice how unforc'd his Compliments, and how natural his Transitions generally are. With how much Ease does he slide into some new Circumstance, without any Violation of the Unity of the Story. The Texture is so artful, that it may be com|par'd to the Work of his own Arachne, where the Shade dyes so gradually, and the Light revives so imperceptibly, that it is hard to tell where the one ceases, and the other begins.

When he is going off from the Story of Apollo, and Daphne; how hap|pily does he introduce a Compliment to the Roman Conquerors.

* 1.20—Et conjux quoniam mea non potes esse, Arbor eris certè— Tu Ducibus laetis aderis, cum laeta triumphum Vox canet, & longae visent Capitolia pompae. Postibus Augustis eadem fidissima custos Ante sores stabis; mediamque tuebere quercum.

He compliments Augustus upon the Assassination of Julius; and, by way of Similè, takes the Opportunity from the Horror that the Barbarity of Lycaon gave.

—Sic cum manus impia saevit Sanguine Caesareo Romanum extinguere nomen, &c.

Julius is deify'd, and looks down on his adopted Son.

* 1.21—Natique videns benesacta, fatetur Esse suis majora, & vinci gaudet ab illo.

And immediately follows—

Hic sua praeferri quanquam vetat acta paternis; Libera fama tamen, nullisque obnoxia jussis Invitum praefert.—

The Author in the two first Lines shows the Affectionate Condescention of the Father; in the three last, the pious Gratitude of the Son.

The Compliments to Augustus are very frequent in the last Book of the Metamorphoses; as those to the same Emperor are in the Georgicks of Vir|gil, which also strike the Imagination by their agreeable Flattery.

* 1.22Haec super arvorum cultu pecorumque canebam, Et super arboribus; Caesar dum magnus ad altum Fulminat Euphratem bello, victorque volentes Per populos dat jura, viamque affectat Olympo.

Again on Julius,

* 1.23Imperium Oceano, famam qui terminet astris Julius—

The Compliments have a great Sublimity, and worthy of the Grandeur of the Heroes, and the Wit of the Poet.

Ovid as much deserves Praise, for saying a great deal in a little, as Cen|sure for saying a little in a great deal. None of the Classick Poets had the Talent of expressing himself with more Force, and Perspicuity.

Phaeton desires some Pledge of his Father's Tenderness, and asks to be trusted with his Chariot. He answers,

* 1.24Pignora certa petis; do pignora certa timendo.

However, the latter complies with his Importunity: the Consequence is fatal, the World is set on Fire, even the Rivers feel the force of the Con|flagration. The Tagus boyls,

—Fluit ignibus Aurum.

The Nile retreats,

Occuluit que caput, quod adhuc latet—

Zanthus is parch'd up,

Arsurusque iterum Zanthus—

The Poet's Fancy is here full of Energy, as well as in the following Lines. Apollo courts Daphne, and promises himself Success, but is disappointed.

Quodque cupit, sperat; suaque illum Oracula sallunt.

And again,

The River Achelous combats Hercules, and assumes several Shapes in vain, then puts on at last that of a Snake; the Heroe smiles in Contempt.

Cunarum labor est angues superare mearum.

Ovid never excells himself so much, as when he takes Occasion to touch upon the Passion of Love; all Hearts are in a manner sensible of the same Emotions; and, like Instruments tun'd Unisons, if a String of any one of them be struck, the rest, by consent, vibrate.

Procris is jealous of Cephalus; she endeavours to be confirm'd in her Fears, but hopes the contrary,

—Speratque miserrima falli.

The next is not less Natural,

—Sed cuncta timemus amantes.

Biblis is in love with Caunus. The Struggle is betwixt her unlawful Flame, and her Honour.

She's all Confusion at the Thoughts of discovering her Passion—

—miserere fatentis amorem.

She attempts to write,

Incipit & dubitat: scribit, damnatque tabellas, Et notat, & delet: mutat, culpatque probatque

In the End, Inclination, as it does always, gets the better of Discretion.

This last Fable shows how touchingly the Poet argues in Love Affairs, as well as those of Medea, and Scylla. The two last are left by their Heroes, and their Reflections are very Natural, and Affecting. Ovid seem'd here to have had Virgil's Passion of Dido in his Eye, but with this difference; the one had convers'd much with Ladies, and knew they lov'd to talk a great deal: The other consider'd no less what was natural for them to say, than what became them to say.

Virgil has, through the whole Management of this Rencounter, discover'd a most finish'd Judgment. Aeneas, like other Men, likes for Convenience, and leaves for greater. Dido, like other Ladies, resents the Neglect, enu|merates the Obligations the Lover is under, upbraids him with Ingratitude, threatens him with Revenge, then by and by submits, begs for Compassi|on, and has recourse to Tears.

It appears from this Piece, that Virgil was a discerning Master in the Passion of Love: And they that consider the Spirit, and Turn of that inimi|table Line—Qui Bavium non odit—cannot doubt but he had an e|qual Talent for Satyr.

Nor does the Genius of Ovid more exert on the Subject of Love, than on all others. In the Contention of Ajax, Ulysses his Elocuti|on is most nervous, and perswading. Where he endeavours to disswade Man|kind from indulging carnivorous Appetites in his Pythagorean Philosophy, how emphatical is his Reasoning!

* 1.25Quid meruêre hoves, animal sine srande dolisque, Innocuum, simplex, natum tolerare laborem? Immemor est demum, nec srugum munere dignus Qui potuit curvi dempto modò pondere aratri Ruricolam mactare suum—

I think Agricolam had been stronger, but the Authority of Manuscripts does not warrant that Emendation.

Through the whole Texture of this Work, Ovid discovers the highest Humanity, and a most exceeding good Nature. The Virtuous in Distress are always his Concern; and his Wit contrives to give them an Immortali|ty with himself.

He seems to have taken the most Pains in the first, and second Book of the Metamorphoses, tho' the Thirteenth abounds with Sentiments most moving, and with calamitous Incidents, introduc'd with great Art. The Poet had here in View, the Tragedy of Hecuba in Euripides; and 'tis a won|der, it has never been attempted in our own Tongue. The House of Pri|am is destroy'd, his Royal Daughter a Sacrifice to the Manes of him that occasion'd it. She is forc'd from the Arms of her unhappy Friends, and hur|ry;d to the Altar, where she behaves herself with a Decency becoming her Sex, and a Magnanimity equal to her Blood, and so very affecting, that even the Priest wept.

—Ipse etiam flens, invitusque sacerdos, &c.

She shows no Concern at approaching Death, but on the Account of her old, unfortunate Mother,

Mors tantum vellem matrem mea fallere possit. Mater obest, minuitque necis mea gaudia; quamvis Non mea mors illi: verum sua vita gemenda est.

Then begs her Body may be deliver'd to her without Ransom,

—Genetrici corpus inemptum Reddite; néve, auro redimat jus triste sepulchri, Sed lacrymis: tunc, cum poterat, redimebat & auro.

The unhappy Queen laments, she is not able to give her Daughter roy|al Burial,

Non haec est fortuna domûs—

Then takes the Body in her decrepid Arms, and halts to the Sea to wash off the Blood,

—Ad littus passu processit anili Albentes laniata comas.—

The animated Thoughts, and lively Images of this Poem, are numerous. None ever painted more to the Life, than our Author, tho' several Gro|tesque Figures are, now and then, seen in the same Groupe. The most plentiful Season, that gives Birth to the finest Flowers, produces also the rankest Weeds. Ovid has shown in one Line, the brightest Fancy some|times; and in the next, the poorest Affectation.

Venus makes Court to Adonis,

* 1.26—Et ecce! Opportuna suâ blanditur Populus umbrâ Et requievit humo; pressitque & gramen & ipsum.

Phoebus requests Phaeton to desist from his Request.

—Consiliis, non curribus utere nostris.

Caeneus in the Battle of the Centaurs wounds Latreus in several Places.

—Vulnusque in vulnere fecit.

These are some of our Poet's Boyisms. There is another Affectation, call'd by Quintil. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, or a witty Folly, which wou'd not have ap|pear'd quite so trifling, had it been less frequent.

Medea persuades the Daughters of Pelias to kill their Father, in order to have his Youth renew'd. She that loves him best gives the first Wound,

* 1.27Et, ne sit scelerata, facit scelus—

Althea is enrag'd at her Son Meleager, and to do Justice to the Manes of his Brothers, destroys him,

Impietate pia est—

Envy enters Athens, and beholds the flourishing Condition of the City,

Vixque tenet lacrymas, quia nil lacrymabile cernit.

Ovid was much too fond of such Witticisms, which are more to be won|der'd at, because they were not the Fashion of that Age, as Punns, and Quib|bles are of this. Virgil, as I remember, is not found trifling in this Man|ner above once, or twice.

* 1.28Deucalion vacuum lapides jactavit in orbem, Unde homines nati, durum genus—

Juno is in Indignation at Aeneas upon his Arrival in Italy.

* 1.29Num capti potuere capi? num incensa cremavit Troja viros?—

The Poet is so far from Affecting this sort of Wit, that he rarely ven|tures on so spirited a Turn of Fancy, as in these following Instances.

Juno upbraids Venus, and Cupid Ironically, that two Deities cou'd be able to get the better of one weak Woman,

* 1.30—Memorabile nomen, Una dolo Divûm, si saemina victa duorum est.

Euryalus, going upon an Enterprise, expresses his Concern for his survi|ving Mother, if he shou'd fall, and recommends her to the Care of Ascani|us, who Answers,

Namque erit ista mihi genitrix, nomenque Creûsae Solum desuerit—

Venus is importunate in her Sollicitations to Vulcan, to make Armour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her Son: He Answers,

* 1.31—Absiste precando Viribus indubitare tuis—

At the first kindling of Dido's Passion, he has this most natural Thought,

—Illum absens absentem auditque, videtque.

But to return to Ovid; tho' I cannot vindicate him for his Points, I shall endeavour to mollify his Criticks, when they give him no quarter for his Diction, and attack him so inflexibly for ending his Lines with Monosylla|bles, as—si quis—si non, &c. and as I think he cannot be excus'd more advantagiously, than by affirming that where he has done it once, Virgil has twenty times—Et cum

• —Si quis—Nec dum—
• —Si quam—Si quis—
• —Jam bos—Nunc nunc—&c.

* 1.32

There are a great many Endings of Lines in this manner, and more in|deed than seems consistent with the Majesty of Heroick Verse. When Lines are design'd to be sermoni propiores, this Liberty may be allowable, but not so when the Subject requires more sonorous Numbers. Virgil seems to en|deavour to keep up his Versification to an Harmonious Dignity; and there|fore, when fit Words do not offer with some ••ase, he'll rather break off in an Hemistick, than that the Line shou'd be lazy, and languid. He well knew how essential it was in Poetry to flatter the Ear; and at the same time was sensible, that this Organ grows tir'd by a constant Attention to the same Harmony; and therefore he endeavour'd now and then to relieve it by a Cadence of Pauses, and a Variation of Measures.

* 1.33Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracyntho.

This Line seems not tuneful at the first hearing; but by Repetition, it re|conciles it self, and has the same Effect with some Compositions of Musick, which are at the first Performance tiresome, and afterward Entertaining.

The Commentators, and Criticks are of Opinion, that whenever Virgil is less Musical, it is where he endeavours at an Agreement of the Sound with the Sense, as,

—Procumbit humi bos.

It wou'd show as much Singularity to deny this, as it does a fanciful Faci|lity to affirm it, because it is obvious, in many Places he had no such view.

* 1.34—Inventa sub ilicibus sus.

* 1.35—Dentesque sabellicus exacuit sus.

* 1.36—Jam setis obsita, jam bos.

* 1.37—Furor additus, inde Lupi ceu, &c.

The Places, which favour most the first Opinion, are,

* 1.38Saxa per & scopulos, & depressas convalles.

* 1.39—Sepe exiguus mus. Omnia sub magnâ labentia flumina terrâ.

The last Line is the only Instance, I remember (except one in Ecl. 2.) where the Words terminate in the same Vowel, and seem to represent the constant, and uniform sound of a sliding Stream.

Those, that are most conversant in Classick Poetry, must be sensible, that Virgil has been much more solicitous, than Ovid, to keep up his Lines to an easy, and a Musical Flow; but tho' the Criticks charge the latter with breaking through Prosody and Grammar, and allowing himself too often the Licence of Graecisms; I take this Censure to be only an arrogant Pe|dantry in the Grammarians, and groundless in it self; but tho' it were true, I dare be confident it is full as just upon Virgil,

* 1.40—Curru subjungere Tigres,

For Currui, according to the Grammarians.

Often Adjectives for Adverbs; and the contrary.

• * 1.41—Pinguia culta; an Adjective for a Substantive.
• —Denso distinguere pingui; the same.
• * 1.42—Seu languentis Hyacinthi; first Foot of the Dactyl short.
• * 1.43—Tulerunt fastidia menses; the penultima of the Verb short.
• Obstupui steteruntque comae—the same.

So Lucretius, prodiderunt, occiderunt, &c.

• * 1.44—Pampineo gravidus autumno; an Iambick for a Spondee.
• Fluviorum rex Eridanus camposque per omnes; an Anapest for a Dactyl, or a Spondee.
• * 1.45Nec Clytio genitore minor nec fratre Mnestheo; a Trochee, unless the two Consonants M N of the following Word be allow'd.

  * 1.46Fervere. non illâ quisquam—

The Penultima commonly short with Virgil, so fulgere, stridere, &c.

• * 1.47—Sine me furere ante furorem; a Graecism.
• * 1.48—Imponere Pelio Ossam; a Graecism, where there is no E|lision, but the long Vowel before another made short.

The learned, and Reverend Dr. Clark has observ'd, (as he tells me) that tho' there be several short Vowels made long in Homer, yet there is no In|stance on the contrary, of a long Vowel (such as the first Syllable of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, and the like) made short, except in such a Case as that I have ci|ted, where the next Word begins with a Vowel; which shows, that there is no such thing as a Poetica licentia, properly so call'd.

Certainly no body can imagine but these two celebrated Authors under|stood their own Tongue better, than the scrupulous Grammarians of After|ages, who are too Dogmatical, and Self-sufficient, when they presume to censure Either of them for not attending strictly enough to Syntax, and the Measure of Verse. The Latin Tongue is a dead Language, and none can decide with Confidence on the Harmony, or Disonance of the Numbers of these Times, unless they were thoroughly acquainted with their Pauses, and Cadence. They may indeed pronounce with much more Assurance on their Diction; and distinguish where they have been negligent, and where more finish'd. There are certainly many Lines in Ovid, where he has been downright Lazy, and where he might have avoided the Appearance of being obviously so by a very little application. In recording the Succession of the Alban Kings, thus,

Epitus ex illo est, post hunc Capetusque, Capysque, Sed Capys ante suit—

There are also several Lines in Virgil, which are not altogether tunable to a modern Ear, and which appear unfinish'd.

* 1.49Scilicet omnibus est labor impendendus, & omnes Cogendae in sulcum—

* 1.50Praesertim si tempestas a vertice sylvis Incubuit—

* 1.51Quasve referre parem? sed nunc, est omnia quando Iste animus supra—

* 1.52Ista quidem quia nota mihi tua, magne, voluntas, Jupiter—

But the Sun has its Spots; and if amongst Thousands of inimitable Lines, there shou'd be some found of an unequal Dignity with the rest, no|thing can be said for their Vindication more, than, if they be Faults, they are the Faults of Virgil.

As I ought to be on this Occasion an Advocate for Ovid, whom I think is too much run down at present by the critical Spirit of this Nation; I dare say, I cannot be more effectually so, than by comparing him in many Places with his admir'd Contemporary Virgil; and tho' the last certainly deserves the Palm, I shall make use of Ovid's own Lines, in the tryal of Strength betwixt Achelous and Hercules, to show how much he is ho|nour'd by the Contention.

* 1.53—Non tam Turpe fuit vinci, quam contendisse decorum.

I shall finish my Remarks on our Author, by taking Notice of the Just|ness, and Perspicuity of his Allegories; which are either Physical or Natural; Moral; or Historical. Of the first Kind is the Fable of Apollo, and Python; in the Explanation of this all the Mythologists agree; Exhalations and Mists being the constant Effects of Inundations, are here dissipated by the Rays of the Sun.

Of the Second Kind, are Acteon torn to Pieces by his own Pack of Dogs, and Erisicthon starv'd by the Disease of Hunger. These two Allegories seem to signify, that Extravagance and Luxury end in Want.

Of the Third, is the Story of the Rape of Europa. History says, she was Daughter to Agenor, and carry'd by the Candians in a Gally, bearing a Bull in the Stern, in order to be marry'd to one of their Kings nam'd Jupiter.

This Explanation gives an Occasion for a Digression which is not alto|gether foreign to the present purpose, because it will be of Use to justify Ovid on some other Occasions, where he is censur'd for being too free with the Characters of the Gods. I was once representing the Metamorphoses, as an excellent System of Morality; but an illustrious Lady, whose least Advantage above her Sex, is that of being one of the greatest Princesses in Europe, objected, that the loose and immodest Sallys of Jupiter did by no means confirm my Assertion.

One must consider, that what appear'd an Absurdity in Ovid, is not so much his own Fault, as that of the Times before him. The Characters of the Gods of the old Heroick Age represented them unjust in their Actions; mutable in their Designs; partial in their Favours; ignorant of Events; scur|rilous in their Language. Some of the superior Hierarchy treating one a|nother

with injurious Brutalities, and are often guilty of such Indecencies and Mis-behaviour as the lowest of Mortals would blush to own. Juno calls Diana, the Goddess of Chastity, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Brazen-fac'd Bitch.* 1.54 Jupi|ter insults his Daughter, the Goddess of Wisdom, for Rashness and Folly; bids Iris tell her, he'll maul her Coach-Horses for her, like a surly Bitch as she is; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉:* 1.55 then threatens in another Place to beat his Wife, that divinc Vixon, the immortal Partner of the Empyreal Throne, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.* 1.56

The Commentators may endeavour to hide those Absurdities under the Veil of Allegories; but the Reader that considers the whole Texture of the Iliad, will find, that the Author's Meaning, and their Interpretation are often as unlike, as the imaginary Heroes of his time, are to the real ones of Ours.

Allegories should be obvious, and not like Meteors in the Air, which re|present a different Figure to every different Eye. Now they are Armies of Soldiers; now Flocks of Sheep; and by and by, nothing.

Perhaps the Criticks of a more exalted Taste, may discover such Beau|ties in the antient Poetry, as may escape the Comprehension of us Pigmies of a more limited Genius. They may be able to fathom the Divine Sense of the Pagan Theology; whist we aim at no more, than to judge of a little common Sense.

It is, and ever will be a Rule to a great many, to applaud and condemn with the general Vogue, tho' never so ill grounded. The most are affraid of being Particular; and rather than strive against the Stream, are proud of being in the wrong with the Many, rather than desirous of being in the right with the Few: and tho' they be convinc'd of the Reasonableness of dissenting from the common Cry, yet out of a poor fear of Censure, they contribute to establish it, and thus become an Authority against others, who in reality are but of their own Opinion.

Ovid was so far from paying a blind deference to the venerable Name of his Grecian Predecessor, in the Character of his Gods; that when Ju|piter punishes Andromeda for the Crimes of her Mother, he calls him in|justus Ammon,* 1.57 and takes commonly an honourable care of the Decorum of the Godhead, when their Actions are consistent with the Divinity of their Cha|racter. His Allegories include some Religious, or instructive Moral, wrap'd up in a peculiar Perspicuity. The Fable of Proserpina, being sometimes in Hell, and sometimes with Ceres her Mother, can scarce mean any thing else than the sowing and coming up of Corn. The various Dresses, that Vertumnus, the God of Seasons, puts on in his Courtship of Pomona the Garden Goddess, seem plainly to express the different and most proper times for Digging, Planting, Pruning, and gathering the Increase. I shall be shorter on this Head, because our Countryman Mr. Sands has, by a laborious Search a|mongst the Mythologists, been very full. He has annex'd his Explanations to the end of each Book, which deserve to be recommended to those, that are Curious in this figurative Learning.

The Reader cannot fail of observing, how many excellent Lessons of Mo|rality Ovid has given us in the course of his Fables.

The Story of Deucalion, and Pyrrba teaches, that Piety and Innocence cannot miss of the divine Protection, and that the only Loss irreparable is that of our Probity, and Justice.

That of Phaeton; how the too great tenderness of the Parent proves a cruelty to the Child; and that he, who wou'd climb to the Seat of Jupiter, generally meets with his Bolt by the way.

The Tale of Baucis and Philemon is most inimitably told. He omits not the minutest Circumstance of a Cottage Life; and is much fuller than Virgil, where he brings in his contented old Man Corycius.* 1.58 Ovid repre|sents a good old Couple; happy, and satisfy'd in a cleanly Poverty; hospi|table, and free of the few things, that Fortune had given them; moderate in Desires; affectionate in their conjugal Relation; so religious in Life, that when they observ'd their homely Cabbin rising to a Temple, all the Boun|ty they ask'd of the Gods they had entertain'd, was, that they might do the Office of Priesthood there; and at their Death, not survive one another.

The Stories of Lycaon, and Pentheus, not only deter from Infidelity, and Irreverence to the Gods; but the last also shows, that too great Zeal produ|ces the same Effects, as none at all; and that Enthusiasm is often more cruel, than Atheism.

The Story of Minos, and Scylla represents the Infamy of selling our Coun|try; and teaches, that even they who love the Crime, abhor the Criminal.

In Cippus we find a noble Magnanimity, and Heavenly Self-denial: he prefer'd the Good of the Republick to his own private Grandeur; and chose with an exemplary Generosity, rather to live a private Free-Man out of Rome, than to command Numbers of Slaves in it.

From the Story of Hercules we learn, that Glory is a Lady, who, like ma|ny others, loves to have her Admirers suffer a great deal for her. The Poet enumerates the Labours of the Heroe; shows how he conquer'd eve|ry thing for Others, but nothing for himself: Then does him the Poe|tical Justice of an Apotheosis; thinking it most fit that one, who had born the Celestial Orbs on his Shoulders, shou'd have a Mansion amongst them.

From the Assumption of Romulus; that when War is at an end, the chief Business of Peace should be the enacting good Laws; that after a People are preserv'd from the Enemy; the next care shou'd be, to preserve them from themselves; and therefore the best Legislators deserve a Place amongst Heroes, and Deities.

From Ariadne being inhumanly deserted by Theseus, and generously re|ceiv'd by Bacchus we find, that as there is nothing we can be sure of, so there is nothing we ought to despair of.

From Althea burning the Brand; that we shou'd take care least under the Notion of Justice, we shou'd do a Cruelty; for they that are set upon Re|venge, only endeavour to imitate the Injury.

From Polyphemus making Love to Galatea one may observe, that the most deform'd can find something to like in thier own Person. He examines his Face in the Stream, combs his ruful Locks with a Rake, grows more exact, and studious of his Dress, and discovers the first Sign of being in Love, by endeavouring at a more, than usual Care to please.

The Fable of Cephalus, and Procrys confirms, that every Trifle contri|butes to heighten the Disease of Jealousy; and that the most convincing Proofs can scarce cure it.

From that of Hippomenes, and Atalanta we may discover, that a gene|rous Present helps to persuade, as well as an agreeable Person.

From Medea's flying from Pelias's Court; that the offer'd Favours of the Impious should be always suspected; and that they, who design to make eve|ry one fear them, are afraid of every one.

From Myrrha; that Shame is sometimes hard to be overcome, but if the Sex once gets the better of it, it gives them afterwards no more Trouble.

From Cenis; that Effeminacy in Youth may change to Valour in Manhood, and that as Fame perishes, so does Censure.

From Tereus; that one Crime lays the Foundation of many; and that the same Person, who begins with Lust, may conclude with Murther.

From Midas; that no Body can punish a Covetous Man worse, than he punishes himself; that scarce any thing wou'd sometimes prove more fa|tal to us, than the Completion of our own Wishes; and that he who has the most Desires, will certainly meet with the most Disappointments.

From the Pythagorean Philosophy, it may be observ'd, that Man is the only Animal who kills his Fellow-Creature without being angry.

From Proteus we have this Lesson, that a Statesman can put on any Shape; can be a Spaniel to the Lyon, and a Lyon to the Spaniel; and that he knows not to be an Enemy, who knows not how to seem a Friend; that if all Crowns shou'd change their Ministry, as often as they please, tho' they may be call'd other Ministers, they are still the same Men.

The Legend of Aesculapiu's Voyage to Rome in form of a Snake, seems to express the necessary Sagacity requir'd in Professors of that Art, for the readier Insight into Distempers: This Reptile being celebrated by the ancient Naturalists for a quick Sight.

* 1.59Cur in amicorum vitium tam cernis acutum Quam aut aquilae, aut serpens Epidaurius?—

The venerable Epidaurian assum'd the figure of an Animal without Hands to take Fees; and therefore, grateful Posterity honour'd him with a Temple. In this manner shou'd wealthy Physitians, upon proper Oc|casions, practise; and thus their surviving Patients reward.

If the Metamorphoses be attended to with a just Application, and with|out Prepossession; One will be the less surpriz'd at the Author's Prophe|tick Spirit, relating to the Duration, and Success of the Work;

Jamque opus exegi, &c.—

This Prediction has so far prov'd true, that this Poem has been ever since the Magazine, which has furnish'd the greatest Poets of the following Ages with Fancy, and Allusions; and the most celebrated Painters with Sub|jects, and Designs. Nor has his Poetical Predecessors, and Contemporaries paid less Regard to their own Performances.

* 1.60Insignemque meo capiti petere inde coronam, Unde prius nulli velârint tempora Musae.

* 1.61Nemo me lacrumeis decoret, nec sunera sletu Facsit; quur volito viv•• per ora virûm.

* 1.62—Tentanda via est, quâ me quoque possim Tollere humo, victorque virûm volitare per ora.

* 1.63Me doctarum Ederae praemia frontium Diis miscent superis—

Again,

* 1.64Exegi monumentum aere perennius, Regalique situ Pyramidum altius, Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens Possit diruere, aut innumerabilis Annorum series, & fuga temporum. Non omnis moriar.—

The whole Ode is in a manner a continu'd Compliment to his own Wri|tings; nor, in Imitation of this celebrated Author, want we Poets of our present Age, who have been pleas'd to rank themselves amongst their own Admirers.

I have done with the Original, and shall make no Excuse for the length of the Preface, because it is in the power of the Reader to make is as short as he pleases. I shall now conclude with a Word or two about the Ver|sion.

Translation is commonly either Verbal, or Paraphrase, or Imitation; of the first sort is Mr. Sands's, which I think the Metamorphoses can by no means allow of. It is agreed, the Author left it unfinish'd; if it had under|gone his last Hand, it is more than probable, that many Superfluities had been retrench'd. Where a Poem is perfectly finish'd; the Translation, with regard to particular Idioms, cannot be too exact; by doing this, the Sense of the Author is more entirely his own, and the Cast of the Periods more faith|fully preserv'd: But where a Poem is tedious through Exuberance, or dark through a hasty Brevity, I think the Translator may be excus'd for doing what the Author upon revising, wou'd have done himself.

If Mr. Sands had been of this Opinion, perhaps other Translations of the Metamorphoses had not been attempted.

A Critick has observ'd, that in his Version of this Book, he has scrupu|lously confin'd the Number of his Lines to those of the Original. 'Tis fit I should take the Summ upon Content, and be better bred, than to count after him.

The Manner that seems most suited for this present Undertaking, is nei|ther to follow the Author too close out of a Critical Timorousness; nor aban|don him too wantonly through a Poetick Boldness. The Original should always be kept in View, without too apparent a Deviation from the Sense. Where it is otherwise; it is not a Version, but an Imitation. The Translator ought to be as intent to keep up the Gracefulness of the Poem, as artful to hide its Imperfections; to copy its Beauties, and to throw a Shade over its Blemi|shes; to be faithful to an Idolatry, where the Author excells; and to take the Licence of a little Paraphrase; where Penury of Fancy, or Dryness of Expression seem to ask for it.

The Ingenious Gentlemen concern'd in this Undertaking seem to be of this Opinion; and therefore they have not only consulted the Reputation of the Author, but their own also. There is one of them has no other Share in this Compliment, than by being the Occasion of engaging them that have, in obliging the Publick. He has also so just to the Memo|ry,

and Reputation of Mr. Dryden, as to give his incomparable Lines the Advantage of appearing so near his Own.

I cannot pass by that Admirable English Poet, without endeavouring to make his Country sensible of the Obligations they have to his Muse. Whe|ther they consider the flowing Grace of his Versification; the vigorous Sal|lies of his Fancy; or the peculiar Delicacy of his Periods; they'll discover Excellencies never to be enough admir'd. If they trace him from the first Productions of his Youth, to the last Performances of his Age, they'll find, that as the Tyranny of Rhyme never impos'd on the Perspicuity of the Sense; so a languid Sense never wanted to be set off by the Harmony of Rhyme. And as his earlier Works wanted no Maturity; so his latter want|ed no Force, or Spirit. The falling off of his Hair, had no other Con|sequence, than to make his Lawrels be seen the more.

As a Translator he was just; as an Inventer he was rich. His Versions of some parts of Lucretius, Horace, Homer, and Virgil throughout, gave him a just pretence to that Compliment which was made to Monsieur d'Ablan|court, a celebrated French Translater; It is uncertain who have the great|est Obligations to Him, the Dead or the Living.

With all these wondrous Talents, He was Libell'd in his Life-time by the very Men, who had no other Excellencies, but as they were his Imitators. Where he was allow'd to have Sentiments superior to all others, they charg|ed him with Theft: But how did he Steal? no otherwise, than like those, that steal Beggars Children, only to cloath them the better.

'Tis to be lamented, that Gentlemen still continue this unfair Behaviour, and treat one another every Day with most injurious Libels. The Muses should be Ladies of a chaste and fair Behaviour: when they are otherwise, they are Furies. 'Tis certain that Parnassus is at best but a barren Moun|tain, and its Inhabitants contrive to make it more so by their un-neighbour|ly Deportment; the Authors are the only Corporation that endeavour at the Ruin of their own Society. Every Day may convince them, how much a rich Fool is respected above a poor Wit. The only Talents in Esteem at present are those of Exchange-Ally; one Tally is worth a Grove of Bays; and 'tis of much more Consequence to be well read in the Tables of Inte|rest, and the Rise and Fall of Stocks, than in the Revolution of Empires.

Mr. Dryden is still a sad, and shameful Instance of this Truth: The Man, that cou'd make Kings immortal, and raise triumphant Arches to Heroes, now wants a poor square Foot of Stone, to show where the Ashes of one of the greatest Poets, that ever was upon Earth, are deposited.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Trist. El. vi
• * 1.2

  Met. B. 2.
• * 1.3

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 B. 1.
• * 1.4

  Met. B. 1.
• * 1.5

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• * 1.7

  Met. B. r.
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  G. B. 4
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  Met. B. 11.
• * 1.10

  B. 8.
• * 1.11

  B. 7.
• * 1.12

  B. 12.
• * 1.13

  Met. B. 4.
• * 1.14

  Met. B. 10.
• * 1.15

  B. 6.
• * 1.16

  B. 3.
• * 1.17

  B. 8.
• * 1.18

  Aen. B. 4.
• * 1.19

  Aen. B. 12. L. 684
• * 1.20

  Met. B. ••
• * 1.21

  B. 25.
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  G. 1.
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  Aen. B. 1.
• * 1.24

  B. 2.
• * 1.25

  B. 15.
• * 1.26

  B. 10. l. 550
• * 1.27

  B. 7.
• * 1.28

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.29

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.30

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.31

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.32

  G. 1. G. 2. G. 2. Aen. 1. Aen. 7. Aen. 12.
• * 1.33

  Ecl. 2.
• * 1.34

  Aen. 3. l. 390.
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  G. 3. l. 255.
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  Aen. 7. l. 79••
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  Aen. 11. l. 355.
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  G. 3. l. 275
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  G. 4.
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  G. 1.
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  Aen. 4.
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  G. 1. l. 283.
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  Aen. 10. l. 29.
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  G. 1. l. 456.
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  G. 1. l. 456.
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  Aen. 12. 680.
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  G. 2. l. 61.
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  G. 2. l. 310.
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  Aen. 11 l. 509.
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  Aen. 12. l. 808.
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  Met. B. 9.
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  Hom. Il. 1. B. 21. l. 481.
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  Il B. S. from I. 400. to I. 425.
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  Il. B. 15. l. 17.
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  Met. B. 4.
• * 1.58

  G. 4.
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  Hor. Sat. 3. L. 1.
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  Luer. B. 1.
• * 1.61

  Enn. Frag.
• * 1.62

  Virg. G. 3
• * 1.63

  Hor. Od. 1.
• * 1.64

  Hor. B. 3. Od. 30.