SIR STEPHEN DE VERE'S TRANSLATION OF HORACE.* THE ten translations

which Sir Stephen de Vere published in 1885 were increased in the following year to thirty ; now we have eighty-seven,—i.e., eighty odes and seven epodes. We gather from the translator's preface that he has done all that he means to do. "I felt it my duty," he writes, "to translate only those [Odes] worthy of the great Lyrist." We have nothing to object to this conception of duty. There has been for some time past a somewhat doubtful fashion of

" unexpurgated editions," which may be due to a perverse literary conscientiousness, but which certainly panders to much baser feelings. What legitimate reason, for instance, can there be for printing all the nauseous gossip which Pepys committed to what he probably believed to be an impenetrable secrecy ? But we must own that we do not quite see the reason for all the exclusions of this volume. "Par- clue cunctas " and " Ilxor pauperis Ibyci " may go with.. out regret, and others with them. No one will want to see most of the Epodes which have been banished. But we cer- tainly miss the delicate grace of' Cum tu Lydia, Telephi." The last four lines, beginning "Polices ter et amplius," are as tender and true as anything to be found in this poet. The gentle satire of "loci, beatia nune Arabum invides," and the raillery of " Xanthia Phoceus," are distinctly losses. So is

"Quid flea, Asterie P " " Impios parrae recinentis omen," with the story of Europa, is omitted, we presume, because it seems somewhat tedious. If so, the omission savours of presump- tion. Among the Epodes we might have had the fierce indig- nation of " Lupis et agnis." On the whole, we cannot but think that Sir Stephen has exercised his principle of exclusion too freely.

With the translator's second principle—" to frame his trans- lation so as to present to English minds what Horace intended to present to the Romans "—we heartily agree, as also we do, speaking generally, with the method which he has followed in carrying this principle into practice. The translation is free, often with a liberty which is often highly suggestive of what may well have been in the author's mind, but sometimes passing beyond legitimate bounds, and even reminding us of Mr. Fitzgerald's Omar Khayyam, Here is a good specimen of Sir Stephen de Yore's manner "ODE XI.

Quid bellieosu,s Cantabor.

Let warlike Spain and Scythia rare! What care we, Quinctius P Ocean's wave Bars them from us. For golden store Fret those who list. Our toils arc o'er. Few are our wants : our, youth is fled : Our summer loves, our graces, dead : And wintry age, and slow decay Have stolen our easy sleep away. All things decline : in sun or shade Fair flowers of Spring but bloom to fade : The full-orbed Moon that crimson rose, Waning, with valid lustre glows. Why then consume our little life In vast designs, and endless strife ? Why not at ease beneath this Pine Our whitening heir with roses twine, And quaff the rich Falernian wine P

* Odes and Epodes of Horace. Promelated. by Sir Stephen de Vera. With Preface and Notes. London : Ball and Sens. 1893.

Bacchus drowns within the bowl Troubles that corrode the soul, Haste ye, slaves ! Who first shall bring Water from the bubbling spring To cool our cups P Who from her home First bid the roving Lycle come, And tune her ivory lute, and fold In Spartan knot her lecke of gold P"

"The full-orbed Moon that crimson rose" brings out the latent force of "Luna rubers." We can scarcely doubt that Horace was thinking of what we call the " harvest " or "bunter's moon." From first to last there is nothing of that want of ease which a translator can so seldom contrive entirely to avoid.

In another fine passage, the translator puts too much, we cannot but think, into his original "Hence self-devoted go

Ye who love honour best :—

Visions of glory rush upon mime eyes :

Prophetic voices rise :—

See, sea before us distant glow

Thro' the thin dawn-mists of the West Rich sunlit plains and hill-tops gemmed with snow, The Islands of the Blest! There the grey olive, year by year, Yields its unfailing fruitage ; there the vine Ripens, unpruned, its clusters into wine ; There figs, ungraffed, their russet harvest grow, And fields unploughed their wealth on man bestow ; There from the caverned ilex sere Wells the wild honey trickling slow ; There herds and flocks unbidden bring At eve their milky offering ; There from the crag's embattled steep

The laughing waters leap.

No wolf around the sheepfold striding With nightly howl the sleeping lamb affrights; No venomed snakes obscurely gliding Sway the tall herbage; no destroying blights, Nor storm, nor flood, nor scorching suns, despoil, Such is the will of Jove, the teeming soil."

Here the lines printed in italics represent little more than "Nos manet Oceanus circumvagus." We doubt whether "hill-tops gemmed with snow" is at all an image which is native to Fforace's thought. He could notice the sparkle of the winter snow on Sorade, but hardly admired it, and cer- tainly would not have introduced it as a feature into the landscape of the Happy Isles. Surely, this Epode could not have been written "after the battle of Phansalia." Horace was then only sixteen. It may belong to the time before Philippi, more probably to some occasion when the quarrel between Augustus and Antony that was finally fought out at Actium threatened to break out into open war.

We have noted some passages for remark. At the end of L, 37, a version in which the original, full of spirit, but with marks of haste, is, on the whole, finely given :— "Deliberately she died : fiercely disdained

To bow her haughty head to Roman scorn, Discrowned, and yet a Queen a captive chained ; A woman desolate and forlorn."

The impression given by " discrowned, and yet a Queen," does not harmonise with what follows. Cleopatra disdained to be seen shorn of her dignity, a "woman desolate and forlorn," though she would not have refused to be thought " discrowned, and yet a Queen," It is possible that the translator means to express this ; if so, he is certainly obscure.

"Whose marble shoulders sparkle white Like moonlight on a summer sea," a happy renderin g of "ut pura nocturno renidet Luna man." In ii., 6, and iii., 29, it was the waterfall of Tibnr, rather than silver springs" or "hundred rills," that the poet was thinking of. In ii., 14,—

" Nectar more worthy of the halls Where Pontiffs hold high festivals,"

—is not an adequate rendering of " Mero Pontificum potiore (meths." The wine was better than even that which came from the cellars of the Pontiff's college. In iii., 5, we do not think that " torvus" expresses "scorn." It was rather " gloom." "Wild embrace" scarcely suits " pudicae coniugis osmium." Does not the epithet suggest the dignity and self- restraint of the Roman matron P In i., 4, surely " quadrimum Sabinum " is not "long-stored Sabine wine." It was four years old, probably as long as so moderate a vintage would commonly be kept, but not "long-stored," an epithet which would rather apply to the cask, " nate, consule Manlio."

That these versions will give much pleasure to lovers of Horace, we do not doubt, even though they may now and then rub their eyes and wonder where the translator found what be gives them. Here is a riddle. In what Ode would they place the original of the following?—

"I wandered, lost: a vision on me fell : A glory bursting from the broad-rimmed sun Smote with strong light the phantom-haunted dell."