Translations from Homer/Notes to Battle of the Frogs and Mice

by Homer

NOTES

TO THE

BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE.

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Note¹, p. 45.] Awake my song.

Musa, tu che cantasti i fatti egregi
Del Re de Topi e de le Rane antiche,
Si che ne sono ancor fioriti e fregi
La per le piagge d'Elicona apriche.
Tassoni Secchia Rapita, c. v, s. 23.

 

Muse, who didst sing the wondrous exploits done
By the stout king of Mice, and Frogs of yore,
Whence mid the sunny lawns of Helicon
Still fresh they bloom, and deckt with flowerets o'er.—

 

Note², p. 45.]

And shamed in might the giant's earth-born brood.

Non tantos motus, nec tam memorabile bellum,
Mæonius quondam sublimi carmine vates
Lusit; ubi totam strepituque armisque paludem
Miscuit: hic (visu miserabile!) corpora muram.
Sparsa jacent juncis transfixa, hic gutture ranco
Rana dolet, pedibusque abscisso poplite ternis
Reptat humi, solitis nec sese saltibus effert.
Addison, ΠΥΤΜΑΙΟ-ΓΕΡΑΝΟΜΑΧΙΑ, 46.

Not such the rout, not such the immortal fray,
Erst by the bard portray'd in loftiest lay,
Mæonia's bard—when all the fen's fierce swarms
He stirr'd with tumult and the bray of arms.
Here, woeful sight, with reeds thrust thro' and thro'
Vast forms of Alice the encumbered plains o'erstrew;
There, with hoarse throat, the Frog bewaileth sore—
Dοom'd to three feet, quadrupedal no more:
Shorn of one leg, along the ground he creeps
Slow—nor essays henceforth his wonted leaps.

 

Note³, p. 46.]

What sire begat thee, and what mother bore?

Justice. What is thy name?
Son. My name's Tom Jenkins, alias I have none
Tho' orphan'd and without a friend—
Justice. ————————Thy parents?
Son. My father dwelt in Rochester—and was,
As I have heard,—a fishmonger—no more.
Critic, act. iii, s. 1.

 

Note⁴, p. 47.]

Ne'er yet from battle's withering shout I fled.

Son of the sea, I never fled. Ossian, Carthon, vol. i, p. 90.

 

Note⁵, p. 49.]

Caitiff! on land I am thy better far,
To cuff and kick, to wrestle, run, and spar.

So king Creillus, in the Galeomyomachia, describes himself as a knight, sans tache, sans peur.

ουκ εθελησα ζην τον απονον βιον. 157. κ. τ. λ.

No sluggard life was mine—my sole delight
Hath been to mingle with the men of might,
Ev'n from a boy—the lance, glaive, targe to wield,
Mount the fleet car, and thread the battle-field,
The foe to smite with timely stroke and stout,
Draw the tough bow and lanch the death shaft out;—
In one short word, to learn—hath been mine aim—
All feats of war, as warrior best became.

 

Note⁶, p. 50.]

Lay rock'd and rolling on the deep-sea billow.

Beside some fen shall his tomb be seen; it shall rest without a song, his ghost shall hover in mist over the reedy pool.

Ossian, Tem. vol. ii, p. 107.

 

Note⁷, p. 50.]

For death hath torn
From me three gallant bairns.

So king Sheep's-eye (Κρεἲλλος) in the Cat-and-Frog-fight.

καὶ γἁρ προ καιποῦ τὴν ἐμὴν θυγατἐρα. l. 34. κ. τ. λ.

Yes, all untimely, in her spring of youth,
My daughter fair, my loved Lick-Lamp-a-tooth
Woe worth the day! did curst Grimalkin paw
Before these eyes.
Loquitur Chip-cheese.I too have felt her claw:
Pride of my heart, my gentlest Gibletine,
She clutch'd, and Eat-Wheat, that brave boy of mine,
Her death-shriek heard—nought lingering—undismay'd—
He rush'd to avenge his slaughtered sister's shade.

Note⁸, p. 50.]

Uprise ye then, and don the arms of death.

Τοινον κελεύω τοὺς ἐμὸι τεφιλμένουσ.
Galeomyomach, 173, κ. τ. λ.

 

Heed then my call, my liegemen dear ye are,
Up one and all, and throng the files of war.
With skill, with vengeance, valour, strength, go forth
Full arm'd—"let gentle blood shew generous worth."

 

Arise to battle, my thousands! pour round me like the echoing main. Gather round the bright steel of your king: strong as the rocks of my land; that meet the storm with joy; and stretch their dark pines to the wind.Ossian, Fingal, b. i.

Exalt, ye sons of Erin, exalt the spear, and bend the bow: rush on the foe in darkness, as the spirits of stormy nights!

Ossian, Fingal, b. ii.

Note⁹, p. 52.]

By Centaur-chief or earth-born giant led.

Not such the numbers, nor the host so dread,
By Northern Brenn or Scythian Timur led.
Heber's Palestine.

Note¹⁰, p. 53.]

Snuff the rich steam and wet the whiskered lip.

In accordance with this, Sheep's-eye's threat to Jupiter, in the Cat-and-Mouse Fight, savoureth somewhat of pot valour.

ὡς εἲπερ ὀυ θήσει με νικητὴν μέγαν.104, κ. τ. λ.

Hear then, O Jove, the oath I swear,—if thou
Fail at my feet to make all nations bow,
Fail but to crest my war-plume, battle-tost,
With victory's wreath—thou failest to thy cost:

No stop, no stay,—thy victim-steaming cell
I force,—and feed this godlike belly well.

Note¹¹, p. 54.]

Thunder'd amain and flash'd the sign of war.

οὐδέποτ᾽ αὐτοῖς
Άργαλἐον πόλεμον τεκμαἱπεται εὐρὑοπα Ζεὐς.
Hesiod. Opera et Dies. lib. i, 226. 

Ne'er unto them doth Jove, all-seeing god,
Hang the fierce signs of wasting war abroad.

Note¹², p. 54.] Forth flew the soul.

Dark clouds come o'er my eyes, farewell, good night:
Good night—my mighty soul's inclined to roam,
So make my compliments to all at home.
Bomb. Furioso. 

Note¹³, p. 54.] Then on the bank did Pool.

Captain. Yes Poole.
Suffolk.Poole?
Captain.Poole? sir Poole? lord [Poole]?
Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth,
For swallowing the treasure of the realm.
Henry Sixth, Part ii, act. iv, s. 1. 

Note¹⁴, p. 56.]

Ye gods! I faint, my spirit faints with fright.

Oh! shuddering fancy quails beneath the scene.
Erving Scott's Waterloo.

Note¹⁵, p. 56.] And earth's grim race.

Talis erat belli facies, cum Pelion ingens
Mitteret in cœlum Briareus, solioque Tonantem
Præcipitem excuteret; sparguntur in æthere toto
Fulminaque scopulique: flagrantia tela deorsum
Torquentur Jovis acta manu, dum vasta gigantum,
Corpora fusa jacent, semiustaque sulphure fumant.
Addison, ΠΥΤΜΑΙΟ-ΓΕΡΑΝΟΜΑΧΙΑ, 132. 

Such war's fierce front, when erst Briareus sought
To heave huge Pelion into heaven, and thought
To thrust the Thunderer from his throne on high;
Bolts and red rocks are vollied thro' the sky,
Lanch'd from Jove's hand the writhen fire-shafts fly:
While the vast giants, blasted by the stroke,
Bite the black dust, and sear'd with sulphur smoke.

οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾿ αρ ἔτι Ζεὐς ἴσχεν ἑὸν μένος.κ. τ. λ.
Hesiod. Theog. 687.

Jove curb'd his might no longer, but at length
Dilate, did all his soul wax full of strength,
And his whole power brake out,—forth moved the god
From heaven's bright hill, and lightened as he trod
Unceasingly:—fast from his stout right hand
Flew the fork'd bolts, by eddying whirlwinds fann'd.
From the rich earth the roar of burning came,
And the deep forest crash'd beneath the flame,
Yea, the whole earth boil'd up-the ocean's stream
And wide waste sea,—while clouds of scorching steam
Wrapp'd round the earthy Titans,—thro' the sky
Career'd a sheet of fire, and every eye,
Albeit of forms that nought till now could scare,
Quail'd and grew dim before that blasting glare.
Combustion seized on chaos;—heard ye then
With mortal ear, or viewed with mortal ken,
It would have seemed as heaven and earth were dash'd
In one,—with din so terrible they clash'd,—
Heaven downward plunged, and earth in air uprent:
Thus roar'd the shock of gods in fiery hosting blent.

See too the sixth Book of Parad. Lost, and Dante's Inferno, c. 31.

Note¹⁶, p. 50.] Then shall the stoutest fall.

Then shall the mighty tremble, the spear shall fall from the hand of the valiant.Ossian, Temora, b. i.

Note¹⁷, p. 57.]

The pale mice halted, trembled, turn'd, and fled.

The mice would appear to have experienced, in some former campaigns, the fatal chance of war.

οὐκ οἶσθα τῶς πρὶν συνιοτῶντες τὸν μόθον.
Galeomyomach. 71. κ. τ. λ.

Chip-Cheese loquitur. What? know'st thou not, on wounds and slaughter bent,
To front the Cats' and Frogs' fell armament,
What clouds of friends we gathered?—Know'st thou not—
Sheep's Eye.Full well I know the terrors of our lot:
Friends, kinsmen, comrades, sons and sires, all fell,—
Scarce we ourselves escaped the harrowing tale to tell.

Note¹⁸, p. 57.]

'Twas silence all, their one day war was done.

What midnight darkness does invade the day,
And snatch the victor from his conquered prey?
Is the sun weary of this bloody fight,
And winks upon us with the eye of light?
'Tis an eclipse! this was unkind, oh! moon,
To clap between them and the sun so soon;
Foolish eclipse! thou this in vain hast done;
Their brighter honour had eclipsed the sun,
And now behold eclipses two in one.
Rehearsal, act v.