The Translation
Concerning the translation itself, we should perhaps set over against Emerson’s famous saying, “I should as soon think of swimming across Charles River when I wish to go to Boston, as of reading all my books in originals, when I have them rendered for me in my mother tongue,” that other remark of a great scholar, that “the thing for the student of language to learn is that translation is impossible.” Exquisitely done as is this version by Professor Conington, noble student of Virgil as he was, some faint notion of what is lost in the process might be gained by comparing a prose version of, say, Longfellow’s “Evangeline” with his hexameters themselves:—
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic—
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
At the very least, “the noblest measure ever moulded by the lips of man,” Virgil’s “ocean-roll of rhythm,” is lost. That indeed is not revived for us in Conington’s own poetical version, not in Dryden’s, nor in Morris’s. Of Virgil also that is true which T. B. Aldrich, charming poet that he was, wrote me anent his own early translations, “But who could hope to decant the wine of Horace?”
Yet it may be not without interest to compare some verse renderings of the initial lines:—
I (woll now) sing (if that I can,)
The armes and also the man,
That first came through his destinie,
Fugitive fro Troy the countrie
Into Itaile, with full much pine,
Unto the stronds of Lavine.
—Chaucer, House of Fame.
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forced by Fate,
And haughty Juno’s unrelenting hate,
Expelled and exiled, left the Trojan shore,
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latian realm, and built the destined town;
His banished gods restored to rites divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the race of Alban fathers come
And the long glories of majestic Rome.
—Dryden.
I sing of arms, I sing of him, who from the Trojan land,
Thrust forth by Fate, to Italy and that Lavinian strand
First came: all tost about was he on earth and on the deep
By heavenly might for Juno’s wrath, that had no mind to sleep:
And plenteous war he underwent ere he his town might frame,
And set his gods in Latian earth, whence is the Latin name.
And father-folk of Alba-town, and walls of mighty Rome.
—Morris.
Arms and the man I sing, who first,
By Fate of Ilian realm amerced,
To fair Italia onward bore,
And landed on Lavinium’s shore:—
Long tossing earth and ocean o’er,
By violence of heaven, to sate
Fell Juno’s unrelenting hate;
Much labored too in battle-field,
Striving his city’s walls to build,
And give his gods a home:
Thence come the hardy Latin brood,
The ancient sires of Alba’s blood,
And lofty-rampired Rome.
—Conington.
I sing of arms, and of the man who first
Came from the coasts of Troy to Italy
And the Lavinian shores, exiled by fate,
Much was he tossed about upon the lands
And in the ocean by supernal powers,
Because of cruel Juno’s sleepless wrath.
Many things also suffered he in war,
Until he built a city, and his gods
Brought into Latium; whence the Latin race,
The Alban sires and walls of lofty Rome.
—Cranch.
I sing of war, I sing the man who erst,
From off the shore of Troy fate-hunted, came
To the Lavinian coast in Italy,
Hard pressed on land and sea, the gods malign,
Fierce Juno’s hate unslaked. Much too in war
He bore while he a city built, and set
His gods in Latium. Thence the Latin race,
Our Alban sires, the walls of haughty Rome.
—Long.
Arms and the man I sing who first, from Troy
Expelled by Fate’s decree, to Italy
And the Lavinian shores, a wanderer came.
Sore travail he endured by land and sea
From adverse gods, and unrelenting rage
Of haughty Juno: harassed, too, by war,
His destined city while he strove to build
And raise new altars for his exiled gods.
The Latian race, the Alban fathers hence
Their birth derived—hence Rome’s proud fabric sprung.
—Rickards.
(In hexameters.)
Arms and the hero I sing, who of old from the borders of Troja
Came to Italia, banished by fate to Lavinia’s destined
Sea coasts: Much was he tossed on the lands and the deep by enlisted
Might of supernals, through Juno’s remembered resentment:
Much, too, he suffered in warfare, while he was founding a city,
And into Latium bearing his gods: whence issued the Latin
Race, and the Alban fathers, and walls of imperial Roma.
—Crane.
Sing I the arms and the man, who first from the shores of the Trojan,
Driven by Fate, into Italy came, to Lavinium’s borders
Much was he vexed by the power of the gods, on the land and the ocean,
Through the implacable wrath of the vengeful and pitiless Juno;
Much, too, he suffered in war, until he could found him a city,
And into Latium carry his gods; whence the race of the Latins,
Alba’s illustrious fathers, and Rome’s imperial bulwarks.
—Howland.