ACHILLES SHIELD. Translated as the other seven Books of Homer, out of his eighteenth book of Iliads. By George Chapman Gent. LONDON Imprinted by john Windet, and are to be sold at Paul's Wharfe, at the sign of the Cross Keys. 1598. To the most honoured Earl, Earl Martial. SPondanus, one of the most desertful Commentars' of Homer, calls all sorts of all men learned to be judicial beholders of this more than Artificial and no less than Divine Rapture; than which nothing can be imagined more full of soul and humane extraction: for what is here prefigurde by our miraculous Artist, but the universal world, which being so spacious and almost unmeasurable, one circlet of a Shield representes and embraceth? In it heaven turns, the stars shine, the earth is enflowred, the sea swells and rageth, Cities are built: one in the happiness and sweetness of peace, the other in open war & the terrors of ambush etc. And all these so lively proposed, as not without reason many in times past have believed, that all these things have in them a kind of voluntary motion: even as those Tripods of Vulcan, and that Dedalian Venus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; nor can I be resolved that their opinions be sufficiently refuted by Aristonicus, for so are all things here described, by our divinest Poet, as if they consisted not of hard and solid metals, but of a truly, living, and moving soul: The ground of his invention he shows out of Eustathius: intending by the Orbiguitie of the Shield, the roundness of the world: by the four metals, the four elements: viz. by gold fire: by brass earth for the hardness: by Tin water, for the softness, and inclination to fluxure: by silver, Air, for the grossness & obscurity of the metal before it be refined. That which he calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he understands the Zodiac, which is said to be triple for the latitude it contains, & shining by reason of the perpetual course of the Sun made in that circle, by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the axle-tree, about which heaven hath his motion etc. Nor do I deny (saith Spondanus) Aeneas' arms to be forged, with an exceeding height of wit by Virgil, but compared with these of Homer, they are nothing. And this is it (most honoured) that maketh me thus suddenly translate this Shield of Achilles, for since my publication of the other seven books, comparison hath been made between Virgil and Homer: who can be compared in nothing with more decysall & cutting of all argument, then in these two Shields; and whosoever shall read Homer thoroughly and worthily, will know the question comes from a superficial and too unripe a reader: for Homer's Poems were writ from a free fury, an absolute & full soul: Virgil's out of a courtly, laborious, and altogether imitatorie spirit: not a Simile he hath but is Homer's: not an invention, person, or disposition, but is wholly or originally built upon Homerical foundations, and in many places hath the very words Homer useth: beside, where Virgil hath had no more plentiful and liberal a wit, then to frame twelve imperfect books of the troubles and travails of Aeneas: Homer hath of as little subject finished eight & forty perfect: and that the trivial objection may be answered, that not the number of books, but the nature and excellence of the work commends it: All Homer's books are such as have been precedents ever since of all sorts of Poems: imitating none, nor ever worthily imitated of any: yet would I not be thought so ill created as to be a malicious detractor of so admired a Poet as Virgil, but a true justifier of Homer, who must not be read for a few lines with leaves turned over caprichiously in dismembered fractions, but throughout; the whole drift, weight & height of his works set before the apprehsive eyes of his judge. The majesty he enthrones and the spirit he infuseth into the scope of his work so far outshining Virgil, that his skirmishes are but mere scrambling of boys to Homer's; the silken body of Virgil's muse curiously arrest in guilt and embroidered silver, but Homer's in plain massy and unualued gold: not only all learning, government, and wisdom being deduced as from a bottomless fountain from him; but all wit, elegancy, disposition and judgement. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. Homer (saith Plato) was the Prince and master of all praises and virtues: the Emperor of wise men: an host of men against any depraver in any principle he held. All the ancient and lately learned have had him in equal estimation. And for any to be now contrarily affected, it must needs proceed from a mere want oneness of wit: an Idle unthrifty spirit: wilful because they may choose whether they will think otherwise or not, & have power and fortune enough to live like true men without truth, or else they must presume of puritanical inspiration, to have that with delicacy & squemishnes, which others with as good means, ten times more time, and ten thousand times more labour could never conceive. But some will convey their imperfections under his Greek Shield, and from thence bestow bitter arrows against the traduction, affirming their want of admiration grows from defect of our language, not able to express the copy and elegancy of the original: but this easy and traditional pretext hides them not enough: for how full of height and roundness soever Greeke be above English, yet is there no depth of conconceipt triumphing in it, but as in a mere admirer it may be imagined; so in a sufficient translator it may be expressed. And Homer that hath his chief holiness of estimation, for matter and instruction, would scorn to have his supreme worthiness glozing in his courtship and privilege of tongue. And if Italian, French & Spanish, have not made it dainty, nor thought it any presumption to turn him into their languages, but a fit and honourable labour and (in respect of their country's profit and their poesies credit) ●●●ost necessary, what curious, proud, and poor shamefastness should let an English muse to traduce him, when the language she works withal is more conformable, fluent, and expressive; which I would your Lordship would command me to prove against all our whippers of their own complement in their country's dialect. O what peevish ingratitude and most unreasonable scorn of ourselves we commit, to be so extravagant and forreignely witted, to honour and imitate that in a strange tongue, which we condemn and contemn in our native? for if the substance of the Poets will be expressed and his sentence and sense rendered with truth and elocution, he that takes judicial pleasure in him in Greek, cannot bear so rough a brow to him in English, to entomb his acceptance in austerity. But thou soule-blind Scalliger, that never hadst any thing but place, time and terms, to paint thy proficiency in learning, nor ever writest any thing of thine own impotent brain, but thy only impalsied diminution of Homer (which I may swear was the absolute inspiration of thine own ridiculous Genius) never didst thou more palpably damn thy drossy spirit in all thy all countries-exploded filcheries, which are so grossly illiterate, that no man will vouchsafe their refutation, then in thy senseless reprehensions of Homer; whose spirit flew as much above thy groveling capacity, as heaven moves above Barathrum: but as none will vouchsafe repetition nor answer of thy other unmanly fooleries: no more will I of these, my Epistle being too tedious to your Lo: beside, and no man's judgement serving better, (if your high affairs could admit their diligent perusal) than your Lo: to refute and reject him. But alas Homer is not now to be lift up by my weak arm, more than he is now depressed by more feeble oppositions, if any feel not their conceits so ravished with the eminent beauties of his ascentiall muse, as the greatest men of all sorts and of all ages have been. Their most modest course is, (unless they will be powerfully insolent) to ascribe the defect to their apprehension, because they read him but slightly, not in his surmised frugality of object, that really and most feastfully powers out himself in right divine occasion. But the chief and unanswerable mean to his general and just acceptance, must be your Lo. high and of all men expected precedent, without which he must like a poor snail, pull in his English horns, that out of all other languages (in regard of the country's affection, and royalty of his patrons) hath appeared like an Angel from a cloud, or the world out of Chaos. When no language can make comparison of him with ours if he be worthily converted; wherein before he should have been borne so lame and defective, as the French midwife hath brought him forth, he had never made question how your Lo. would accept him: and yet have two of their Kings, embraced him, as a wealthy ornament to their studies, and the main battle of their armies. If then your bounty would do me but the grace to confer my unhappy labours with theirs so successful & commended (your judgement serving you much better than your leisure & yet your leisure in things honourable being to be enforced by your judgement) no malicious & dishonourable whisperer, that comes armed with an army of authority and state against harmless & armeles virtue, could wrest your wont impression so much from itself, to reject (with imitation of tyrannous contempt any affection so zealous & able in this kind to honour your estate as mine. Only kings & princes have been Homer's patrons, amongst whom Ptolemy would say, he that had slight hands to entertain Homer, had as slight brains to rule his common wealth. And an usual severity he used, but a most rational (how precise and ridiculous soever it may seem to men made of ridiculous matter) that in reverence of the piety and perfect humanity he taught; whosoever writ or committed any proud detraction against Homer (as even so much a man wanted not his malicious depravers) he put him with torments to extremest death. O high and magically raised prospect, from whence a true eye may see means to the absolute redress, or much to be wished extenuation, of all the unmanly degeneracies now tyranysing amongst us: for if that which teacheth happiness and hath unpainefull corrosives in it, (being entertained and observed) to eat out the heart of that raging ulcer, which like a Lernaean Fen of corruption furnaceth the universal sighs and complaints, of this transposed world; were seriously, and as with armed garrisons defended and heartened; that which engenders & disperseth, that wilful pestilence, would be purged and extirpate: but that which teacheth, being overturned, that which is taught is consequently subject to eversion: and if the honour, happiness and preservation of true humanity consist in observing the laws fit for man's dignity; and that the elaborate prescription of those laws must of necessity be authorized, favoured and defended before any observation can succeed: is it unreasonable, to punish the contempt of that moving prescription with one man's death, when at the heels of it follows common neglect of observation, and in the neck of it, an universal ruin? This my Lord I enforce only to interrupt in others that may read this unsavoury stuff, the too open mouthed damnation of royal & virtuous Ptolemy's severity. For to digest, transform and sweat a man's soul into rules and attractions to society; such as are fashioned and tempered with her exact and long laborde contention of study; in which she tosseth with her impartial discourse before her, all cause of fantastical objections and reproofs; and without which she were as wise as the greatest number of detractors that shall presume to censure her; and yet by their flash and insolent castigations to be slighted and turned over their miserably vain tongues in an instant; is an injury worthy no less penalty than Ptolemy inflicted. To take away the heels of which running profanation. I hope your Lo. honourable countenance will be as the unicorns horn, to lead the way to English Homer's yet poisoned fountain: for till that favour be vouchsafed, the herd will never drink, since the venomous galls of some of their fellows have infected it, whom alas I pity. Thus confidently affirming your name and dignities shall never be more honoured in a poor book then in English Homer, I cease to afflict your Lordship with my tedious dedicatories, and to still sacred Homer's spirit through a language so fit and so favourles; humbly presenting your Achilleian virtues with Achilles' Shield; wishing as it is much more admirable and divine, so it were as many times more rich, than the Shield the Cardinal pawned at Anwerp. By him that wisheth all the degrees of judgement, and honour, to attend your deserts to the highest, George Chapman. To the understander. YOu are not every body, to you (as to one of my very few friends) I may be bold to utter my mind, nor is it more impair to an honest and absolute man's sufficiency to have few friends, then to an Homerical Poem to have few commenders; for neither do common dispositions keep fit or plausible consort with judicial and simple honesty, nor are idle capacities comprehensible of an elaborate Poem. My Epistle dedicatory before my seven books, is accounted dark and too much laboured: for the darkness there is nothing good or bad, hard or soft, dark or perspicuous but in respect, & in respect of men's light, sleight, or envious perusalles (to whose lose capacities any work worthily composed is knit with a riddle) & that the style is material flowing, & not rank, it may perhaps seem dark, to rank riders or readers, that have no more souls than burbolts: but to your comprehension & in itself, I know it is not. For the affected labour bestowed in it, I protest two mornings both ended it and the Readers Epistle: but the truth is, my desire & strange disposition in all things I writ, is to set down uncommon, and most profitable coherents for the time: yet further removed from abhorred affectation, then from the most popular and cold digestion. And I ever imagine that as Italian & French Poems to our studious linguistes, win much of their discountryed affection, as well because the understanding of foreign tongues is sweet to their apprehension, as that the matter & invention is pleasing, so my far fetched, and as it were beyond sea manner of writing, if they would take as much pains for their poor countrymen as for a proud stranger when they once understand it, should be much more gracious to their choice conceits, than a discourse that falls naked before them, and hath nothing but what mixeth itself with ordinary table talk. For my variety of new words, I have none Inckepot I am sure you know, but such as I give passport with such authority, so significant and not ill sounding, that if my country language were an usurer, or a man of this age speaking it, he would thank me for enriching him: Why alas will my young master the reader affect nothing common, and yet like nothing extraordinary? Swaggering is a new word amongst them, and round headed custom gives it privilege with much imitation, being created as it were by a natural Prosopopeia without etymology or derivation; and why may not an elegancy authentically derived, & as I may say of the upper house, be entertained as well in their lower consultation with authority of Art, as their own forgeries licked up by nature? All tongues have enriched themselves from their original (only the Hebrew & Greek which are not spoken amongst us) with good neighbourly borrowing, and as with infusion of fresh air, and nourishment of new blood in their still growing bodies, & why may not ours? Chaucer (by whom we will needs authorize our true english) had more new words for his time then any man needs to devise now. And therefore for currant wits to cry from standing brains, like a brood of Frogs from a ditch, to have the ceaseless flowing river of our tongue turned into their Frogpoole, is a song far from their arrogation of sweetness, & a sin would soon bring the plague of barbarism amongst us; which in faith needs not be hastened with defences of his ignorant furtherers, since it comes with mealemouthed toleration too savagely upon us. To be short; since I had the reward of my labours in their consummation, and the chief pleasure of them in mine own profit, no young prejudicate or castigatorie brain hath reason to think I stand trembling under the airy stroke of his feverie censure, or that I did ever expect any flowing applause from his dry fingers; but the satisfaction and delight that might probably redound to every true lover of virtue I set in the seat of mine own profit and contentment; and if there be any one in whom this success is enflowred, a few sprigs of it shall be my garland. Since then this never equalled Poet is to be understood, and so full of government and direction to all estates; stern anger and the affrights of war, bearing the main face of his subject; soldiers shall never spend their idle hours more profitably, then with his studious and industrious perusal; in whose honours his deserts are infinite: Counsellors have never better oracles than his lines: fathers have no morales so profitable for their children, as his counsels: nor shall they ever give them more honoured injunctions, then to learn Homer without book, that being continually conversant in him, his height may descend to their capacities, and his substance prove their worthiest riches. Husbands, wives, lovers, friends, and allies, having in him mirrors for all their duties; all sorts of which concourse and society in other more happy ages, have in steed of sonnets & lascivious ballads, sung his Iliads. Let the length of the verse never discourage your endeavours: for talk our quidditicall Italianistes of what proportion soever their strooting lips affect; unless it be in these coopplets, into which I have hastily translated this Shield, they shall never do Homer so much right, in any octaves, canzons, canzonets, or with whatsoever fustian Epigraphes they shall entitle their measures. Only the extreme false printing troubles my conscience, for fear of your deserved discouragement in the impair of our Poet's sweetness; whose general divinity of spirit, clad in my willing labours (envious of none nor detracting any) I commit to your good nature and solid capacity. ACHILLES SHJELD. BRight footed Thetis did the Sphere aspire, (Amongst th' Immortals) of the God of fire, Starry, incorruptible, and had frame Of ruddy brass, right shaped by the lame. She found him at his swelling bellows sweeting And twenty Tripods seriously beating, To stand and beautify his royal hall, For chairs of honour, round about the wall, And to the feet he fixed of every one Wheels of man-making gold to run alone To the God's Temples; to the which they were Religious ornaments, when standing there Till sacrifice were done, they would retire To Vulcan's house, which all eyes did admire: Yet the Dedalean handles to hold by Were unimposde, which strait he did apply. These while he fashioned with miraculous Art, The fair white-footed dame appeared apart To Charis with the rich-attyred head, Whose heavenly beauties strewed the nuptial bed Of that illustrate Smith: she took her hand And entertained her with this kind demand, What makes the Goddess with the ample train, (Reverend and friendly Thetis) entertain Conceit to honour us with her repair, That never yet was kind in that affair? But enter further, that so wished a guest May be received with hospitable feast. Thus led she Thetis to a chair of state, Rich and exceedingly elaborate, And set a footstool at her silver feet; Then called her famous Smith; Vulcan my sweet, Thetis in some use needs thy fiery hand: He answered, Thetis hath a strong command Of all my powers; who gave my life defence, Cast by my mother's wilful impudence Out of Olympus; who would have obscured My native lameness; then had I endured Vnhelped griefs, if on her shining breast, Hospitious Thetis had not let me rest, And bright Eurinome, my Guardian, Fair daughter of the labouring Ocean, With whom nine years I wrought up divers things Buttons and bracelets, whistels, chains, and rings, In concluse of a Cave; and over us, The swelling waves of old Oceanus, With foamy murmur flowed, and not a God, Nor any mortal knew my close abode, But Thetis and divine Eurinome, Who succoured me; and now from gulphy sea To our steep house hath Thetis made ascent, To whom requital more than competent, It fits me much my safety should repay; Charis do thou some sumptuous feast purvey, Whiles I my airy bellows may lay by, And all my tools of heavenly ferrarie. Thus from his anvil the huge monster rose, And with distorted knees he limping goes To a bright chest, of silver Over composed, Where all his wonder-working tools were closed, And took his sighing bellows from the fire; Then with a sponge, his breast with hairs like wire, His brawned neck, his hard hands and his face He cleansed; put on his rob, assumed his mace, And halted forth, and on his steps attended Handmaids of gold that with strong paces wended, Like dames in flower of life; in whom were minds Furnished with wisdom, knowing all the kinds Of the God's powers; from whom did voices fly, In whom were strengths, and motions voluntary. These at his elbow ever ministered: And these (drawing after him his legs) he led To Thetis seated in a shining throne, Whose hand he shook and asked this question. What wished occasion brings the seas bright Queen To Vulcan's house, that ever yet hath been So great a stranger? show thy reverend will, Which mine of choice commands me to fulfil, If in the reach of all mine Art it lie, Or it be possible to satisfy? Thetis powered out this sadreply in tears: O Vulcan is there any Goddess bears (Of all the deities that deck the sky) So much of mortal wretchedness as I, Whom jove past all deprives of heavenly peace? Myself of all the blue Nereids, He hath subjecteth to a mortals bed, Which I against my will have suffered To Peleus surnamed Aeacides, Who in his court lies slain with the disease Of woeful age; and now with new infortunes He all my joys to discontents importunes In giving me a son, chief in renown Of all Heroes; who hath palme-like grown, Set in a fruitful soil; and when my care Had nursed him to a form so singular, I sent him in the Grecians crooke-sternd fleet To Ilium, with the swiftness of his feet, And dreadful strength, that his choice limbs endued To fight against the Trojan fortitude: And him I never shall receive retired, To Peleus' court; but while he lives inspired With humane breath, and sees the Sun's clear light. He must live sad and moody as the night. Nor can I cheer him, since his valour's price Resigned by all the Grecians compromise, Atrides forced into his fortune's part For which, Consumption tires upon his heart: Yet since the Troyans', all the Greeks' conclude Within their fort, the Peers of Greece have sued With worthiness of gifts and humble prayers, To win his hand to hearten their affairs Which he denied: but to appease their harms, He decked his dear Patroclus in his arms And sent him with his bands to those debates: All day they fought before the Scaean gates And well might have expugnde, by that black light, The Ilian City, if Apollo's spite, Thirsting the blood of good Menetius sons Had not in face of all the fight foredone His faultless life; and authored the renown On Hector's prowess, making th' act his own: Since therefore, to revenge the timeless death Of his true friend, my son determineth T'embrue the field; for want whereof he lies Buried in dust, and drowned in miseries: Hereat thy knees I sue, that the short date Prefixed his life by power of envious fate Thou wilt with heavenly arms grace and maintain Since his are lost with his Patroclus slain. He answered, be assured, nor let the care Of these desires thy firmest hopes impair: Would God as far from lamentable death, When heavy fates shall see it with his breath, I could reserve him, as unequalled arms, Shall be found near t'auert all instant harms, Such arms as all worlds shall for art admire, That by their eyes their excellence aspire. This said, the smith did to his bellows go, Set them to fire, and made his Cyclops blow: Full twenty pair breathed through his furnace holes All sorts of blasts t'inflame his tempered coals, Now blustered hard, and now did contrarise, As Vulcan would, and as his exercise Might with perfection serve the dames desire. Hard brass and tin he cast into the fire, High-prised gold and silver, and did set Within the stock, an anvil bright and great: His massy hammer then his right hand held, His other hand his gaspingtongues compelled. And first he forged a huge and solid Shield, 〈…〉 may 〈◊〉 var●ant artship yield, 〈…〉 three ambitious circles cast, 〈…〉 and refulgent; and without he placed A silver handle; fivefold proof it was, And in it many things with special grace, And passing artificial pomp were graven; In it was earths green globe, the sea and heaven, Th'unwearied Sun; the Moon exactly round, And all the stars with which the sky is crowned, The Pleyades, the Hyads, and the force Of great Orion; and the Bear, whose course Turns her about his Sphere observing him Surnam'de the Chariot, and doth never swim Upon the vnmeasur'de Ocean's marble face, Of all the flames that heavens blue veil enchase. In it two beauteous Cities he did build Of divers languaged men; the one was filled With sacred nuptials and with solemn feasts, And through the streets the fair officious guests, Led from their bridal chambers their fair brides With golden torches burning by their sides. Hymen's sweet triumphs were abundant there, Of youths and damsels dancing in a Sphere; Amongst whom masking flutes & harps were heard, And all the matrons in their doors appeared, Admiring their enamoured braveries; Amongst the rest busy contention flies About a slaughter; and to solemn Court The Citizens were drawn in thick resort, Where two contended for a penalty: The one due satisfaction did deny, At th'others hands for slaughter of his friend, The other did the contrary defend: At last by arbitration both desired, To have their long and costly suit expired, The friends cast sounds confused on either side, Whose tumult strait the Herraldes' pacified. In holy circle and on polished stones, The reverend judges made their sessions, The voycefull Heralds awful sceptres holding, And their grave dooms on either side unfolding. In midst two golden talents were proposed For his rich see by whom should be disclosed The most applausive sentence: th'other town Two host besieged, to have it overthrown, Or in two parts to share the wealthy spoil, And this must all the Citizens assoil. They yield to neither but with close alarm, To sallies and to ambuscados' arm, Their wives and children on their walls did stand, With whom and with the old men they were manned. The other issued; Mars and Pallas went, Propitious Captaaines to their brave intent. Both golden did in golden garments shine Ample and fair, and seemed indeed divine. The soldiers were in humbler habits decked. When they had found a valley most select, To couch their ambush, (at a rivers brink Where all their herds had usual place to drink) There (clad in shining steel) they close did lie, And set far off two sentinels to spy, When all their flocks and crooke-hancht herds came near Which soon succeeded and they followed were By two poor herdsmen that on bagpipes played, Doubtless of any ambuscadoes laid: The sentinels gave word, and in they flew, took herds and flocks, and both their keepers slew. The enemy hearing such a strange uproar About their cattle; being set before In solemn counsel, instantly took horse, Pursued and at the flood, with mutual force, The conflict joined; betwixt them flew debate, Disordered Tumult, and exitial Fate; Here was one taken with wounds bleeding green, And here one pale, and yielding, no wound seen: Another slain; drawn by the strengthless heels From the red slaughter of the ruthless steels, And he that slew him on his shoulders wearing His bloodieweedes as trophies of his daring. Like men alive they did converse in fight, And tired on death with mutual appetite. He carude besides a soft and fruitful field, Brode and thrice new tilled in that heavenly shield, Where many plowmen turned up here and there The earth in furrows, and their sovereign near They strived to work; and every furrow ended A bowl of sweetest wine he still extended To him that first had done; then turned they hand, Desirous to dispatch that piece of land, Deep and new earde; black grew the plough with mould Which looked like blackish earth though forged of gold. And this he did with miracle adorn. Then made he grow a field of high-sprung corn, In which did reapers sharpened sickles ply: Others, their handfuls fallen confusedly Laid on the ridge together; others bound Their gathered handfuls to sheaves hard and round Three binder's were appointed for the place, And at their heels did children glean apace, Whole armefulles to the binder's ministering. Amongst all these all silent stood their king, Upon a baulk, his Sceptre in his hand, Glad at his heart to see his yeeldie land. The herraldes' then the harvest feast prepare, Beneath an Oak far off, and for their fare, A mighty Ox was slain, and women dressed Store of white cakes, and mixed the labourer's feast. In it besides a vine ye might behold Loaded with grapes, the leaves were all of gold, The bunches black and thick did through it grow, And silver props sustained them from below: About the vine an azure dike was wrought, And about it a hedge of tin he brought. One path went through it, through the which did pass The vintagers, when ripe their vintage was. The virgins then and youths (childishly wise) For the sweet fruit did painted cups devise, And in a circle bore them dancing round, In midst whereof a boy did sweetly sound His silver harp, and with a piercing voice, Sung a sweet song; when each youth with his choice Triumphing over earth, quick dances treads. A heard of Oxen thrusting out their heads And bellowing, from their stalls rushing to feed Near a swift flood, raging and crowned with reed, In gold and tin he carved next the vine, Four golden heardsemen following; heard-dogsni. Waiting on them; in head of all the heard, To my admired and soule-loved friend Master of all essential and true knowledge, M. Harriots. TO you whose depth of soul measures the height, And all dimensions of all works of weight, Reason being ground, structure and ornament, To all inventions, grave and permanent, And your clear eyes the Spheres where Reason moves; This Artisan, this God of rational loves Blind Homer; in this shield, and in the rest Of his seven books, which my hard hand hath dressed, In rough integuments I send for censure, That my long time and labours deep extensure Spent to conduct him to our envious light, In your allowance may receive some right To their endeavours; and take virtuous heart From your applause, crowned with their own desert. Such crowns suffice the free and royal mind, But these subjecteth hangs-by of our kind, These children that will never stand alone, But must be nourished with corruption, Which are our bodies; that are traitors borne, To their own crowns their souls: betrayed to scorn, To gaudy insolence and ignorance: By their base flesh's frailties, that must dance, Profane attendance at their states and birth, That are mere servants to this servile earth, These must have other crowns for medes than merits, Or starve themselves, and quench their fiery spirits. Thus as the soul upon the flesh depends, Virtue must wait on wealth; we must make friends, Of the unrighteous Mammon, and our sleights, Must bear the forms of fools or Parasites. Rich mine of knowledge, o that my strange muse Without this body's nourishment could use, Her zealous faculties, only t'aspire, Instructive light from your whole Sphere of fire: But woe is me, what zeal or power soever My free soul hath, my body will be never Able t'attend: never shall I enjoy, Th'end of my hapless birth: never employ That smothered fervour that in loathed embers, Lies swept from light, and no clear hour remembers. O had your perfect eye Organs to pierce Into that Chaos whence this stifled verse By violence breaks: where Glow-worm like doth shine In nights of sorrow, this hid soul of mine: And how her genuine forms struggle for birth, Under the claws of this fowl Panther earth. Then under all those forms you should discern My love to you, in my desire to learn Skill and the love of skill do ever kiss. No band of love so strong as knowledge is: Which who is he that may not learn of you, Whom learning doth with his lights throne endow? What learned fields pay not their flowers t'adorn Your odorous wreath? compact, put on and worn, By apt and Adamantine industry, Proposing still demonstrate verity, For your great object, far from plodding gain, Or thirst of glory; when absurd and vain, Most students in their whole instruction are, But in traditions mere particular: Leaning like rotten houses, on out beams, And with true light fade in themselves like dreams. True learning hath a body absolute, That in apparent sense itself can suit, Not hid in airy terms as if it were Like spirits fantastic that put men in fear, And are but bugs formed in their fowl conceits, Nor made forsale glazed with sophistique sleights; But wrought for all times proof, strong to bide press, And shiver ignorants like Hercules, On their own dunghills; but our formal clerk Blown for profession, spend their souls in sparks, Framed of dismembered parts that make most show, And like to broken limbs of knowledge go. When thy true wisdom by thy learning won Shall honour learning while there shines a Sun; And thine own name in merit; far above, Their Timpanies of state that arms of love, Fortune or blood shall lift to dignity; Whom though you reverence and your empery, Of spirit and soul, be servitude they think And but a beam of light broke through a chink To all their waterish splendour: and much more To the great Sun, and all things they adore, In staring ignorance: yet yourself shall shine Above all this in knowledge most divine, And all shall homage to your true-worth owe, You comprehending all, that all, not you And when thy writings that now errors Night Chokes earth with mists, break forth like eastern light, Showing to every comprehensive eye, High sectious brawls becalmde by unity, Nature made all transparent, and her heart Gripped in thy hand, crushing digested Art In flames unmeasurde, measured out of it, On whose head for her crown thy soul shall sit. Crowned with heavens inward brightness showing clear, What true man is, and how like gnats appear. O fortune-glossed Pompists, and proud Misers, That are of Arts such impudent despisers; Then past anticipating dooms and scorns, Which for self grace each ignorant suborns, Their glowing and amazed eyes shall see How short of thy soul's strength my weak words be, And that I do not like our Poets prefer For profit, praise and keep a squeaking stir With called on muses to unchilde their brains Of wind and vapour: lying still in pains, Of worthy issue; but as one professed In nought but truths dear love the souls true rest. Continue then your sweet judicial kindness, To your true friend, that though this lump of blindness, This scornful, this despised, inverted world, Whose head is furie-like with Adders curled, And all her bulk a poisoned Porcupine, Her stings and quills darting at worths divine, Keep under my estate with all contempt, And make me live even from myself exempt, Yet if you see some gleams of wrestling fire, Break from my spirits oppression, showing desire To become worthy to partake your skill, (Since virtues first and chief step is to will) Comfort me with it and prove you affect me, Though all the rotten spawn of earth reject me. For though I now consume in poesy, Yet Homer being my root I can not die. But lest to use all Poesy in the sight, Of grave philosophy show brains too light To comprehend her depth of mystery, I vow 'tis only strong necessity Governs my pains herein, which yet may use A man's whole life without the least abuse. And though to rhyme and give a verse smooth feet, Uttering to vulgar pallattes' passions sweet Chance often in such weak capricious spirits, As in nought else have tolerable merits, Yet where high Poesies native habit shines, From whose reflections flow eternal lines: Philosophy retired to darkest caves She can discover: and the proud worlds braves Answer in any thing but impudence. With circle of her general excellence For ample instance Homer more than serveth, And what his grave and learned Muse deserveth, Since it is made a Courtly question now, His competent and partles judge be you; If these vain lines and his deserts arise To the high searches of your serious eyes As he is English: and I could not choose But to your Name this short inscription use, As well assured you would approve my pain In my traduction; and besides this vain Excuse my thoughts as bend to others aims Might my will rule me, and when any flames Of my priest soul break forth to their own show Think they must hold engraven regard of you. Of you in whom the worth of all the Graces, Due to the minds gifts, might imbrue the faces Of such as scorn them, and with tyrannous eye Contemn the sweat of virtuous industry. But as ill lines new filled with ink undried, An empty Pen with their own stuff applied Can blot them out: so shall their wealth-burst wombs Be made with empty Pen their honour's tombs. FINIS.