"This eclogue is translated in a strain too
luscious and effeminate for Virgil, who might bemoan his friend, but
does it in a noble and a manly style, which Mr. Ogilby answers better
than Mr. D., whose paraphrase looks like one of Mrs. Behn's, when
somebody had turned the original into English prose before.
"Where Virgil says,
_Lauri et myricae flevere_,
the figure's beautiful; where Mr. D. says,
the laurel stands in tears,
And hung with humid pearls, the lowly shrub appears,
the figure is lost, and a foolish and impertinent representation comes
in its place; an ordinary dewy morning might fill the laurels and shrubs
with Mr. D.'s tears, though Gallus had not been concerned in it.
And yet the queen of beauty blest his bed--
"Here Mr. D. comes with his ugly patch upon a beautiful face: what had
the queen of beauty to do here? Lycoris did not despise her lover for
his meanness, but because she had a mind to be a Catholic whore. Gallus
was of quality, but her spark a poor inferior fellow. And yet the queen
of beauty, etc., would have followed there very well, but not where
wanton Mr. D. has fixt her."
Flushed were his cheeks, and glowing were his eyes.
"This character is fitter for one that is drunk than one in an
amazement, and is a thought unbecoming Virgil."
And for thy rival, tempts the raging sea,
The forms of horrid war, and heaven's inclemency.
Pages:
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371