Read Ebook: The Art of Poetry: an Epistle to the Pisos Q. Horatii Flacci Epistola Ad Pisones De Arte Poetica. by Horace BCE BCE Colman George Translator

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Translator: George Colman

Q. HORATII FLACCI Epistola ad PISONES,

DE ARTE POETICA.

THE ART OF POETRY AN EPISTLE TO THE PISOS.

TRANSLATED FROM HORACE

WITH NOTES BY GEORGE COLMAN.

London: Printed for T. Cadell, in the Strand

The Rev. JOSEPH WARTQN, D.D. MASTER of WINCHESTER SCHOOL; AND TO The Rev. THOMAS WARTON, B.D. FELLOW of TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD.

MY DEAR FRIENDS!

In a conversation, some months ago, I happened to mention to you the idea I had long entertained of that celebrated Epistle of Horace, commonly distinguished by the title of THE ART OF POETRY. I will not say that you acceded to my opinion; but I flattered myself that I at least interested your curiosity, and engaged your attention: our discourse, however, revived an intention I had once formed, of communicating my thoughts on the subject to the Publick; an intention I had only dropt for want of leisure and inclination to attempt a translation of the Epistle, which I thought necessary to accompany the original, and my remarks on it. In the original, Horace assumes the air and stile of an affectionate teacher, admonishing and instructing his young friends and pupils: but the following translation, together with the observations annexed, I address to You as my Masters, from whom I look for sound information, a well-grounded confirmation of my hypothesis, or a solution of my doubts, and a correction of my errors.

It is almost needless to observe, that the Epistle in question has very particularly exercised the critical sagacity of the literary world; yet it is remarkable that, amidst the great variety of comments and decisions on the work, it has been almost universally considered, except by one acute and learned writer of this country, as a loose, vague, and desultory composition; a mass of shining materials; like pearls unstrung, valuable indeed, but not displayed to advantage.

The learned and ingenious Critick distinguished above, an early ornament to letters, and now a worthy dignitary of the church, leaving vain comments, and idle disputes on the title of the work, sagaciously directed his researches to scrutinize the work itself; properly endeavouring to trace and investigate from the composition the end and design of the writer, and remembering the axiom of the Poet, to whom his friend had been appointed the commentator.

With this view of illustrating and explaining Horace's Art of Poetry, this shrewd and able writer, about thirty years ago, republished the original Epistle, giving the text chiefly after Dr. Bentley, subjoining an English Commentary and Notes, and prefixing an Introduction, from which I beg leave to transcribe most part of the three first paragraphs,

I now proceed to set down in writing, the substance of what I suggested to you in conversation, concerning my own conceptions of the end and design of Horace in this Epistle. In this explanation I shall call upon Horace as my chief witness, and the Epistle itself, as my principal voucher. Should their testimonies prove adverse, my system must be abandoned, like many that have preceded it, as vain and chimerical: and if it should even, by their support, be acknowledged and received, it will, I think, like the egg of Columbus, appear so plain, easy, and obvious, that it will seem almost wonderful, that the Epistle has never been considered in the same light, till now. I do not wish to dazzle with the lustre of a new hypothesis, which requires, I think, neither the strong opticks, nor powerful glasses, of a critical Herschel, to ascertain the truth of it; but is a system, that lies level to common apprehension, and a luminary, discoverable by the naked eye.

Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores, Cur ego si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor? Cur nescire, pudens prav?, quam discere malo?

In another Epistle, speaking of himself, and his addiction to poetry, he says,

All which, and several other passages in his works, almost demonstrate that it was not, without a particular purpose in view, that he dwelt so forcibly on the description of a man resolved

Of the following version I shall only say, that I have not, knowingly, adopted a single expression, tending to warp the judgement of the learned or unlearned reader, in favour of my own hypothesis. I attempted this translation, chiefly because I could find no other equally close and literal. Even the Version of Roscommon, tho' in blank verse, is, in some parts a paraphrase, and in others, but an abstract. I have myself, indeed, endeavoured to support my right to that force and freedom of translation which Horace himself recommends; yet I have faithfully exhibited in our language several passages, which his professed translators have abandoned, as impossible to be given in English.

All that I think necessary to be further said on the Epistle will appear in the notes.

I am, my dear friends,

With the truest respect and regard,

Your most sincere admirer,

And very affectionate, humble servant,

GEORGE COLMAN.

LONDON, March 8, 1783.

Q. HORATII FLACCI

EPISTOLA AD PISONES.

Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum Definat in piscem mulier formosa supern?; Spectatum admissi risum teneatis, amici? Credite, Pisones, ifti tabulae fore librum Persimilem, cujus, velut aegri somnia, vanae HORACE'S EPISTLE TO THE PISOS.

Incoeptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis Purpureus lat? qui splendeat unus et alter Assuitur pannus; c?m lucus et ara Dianae, Et properantis aquae per amoenos ambitus agros, Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius describitur arcus. Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortasse cupressum Scis simulare: quid hoc, si fractis enatat exspes Extravagant conceits throughout prevail, Gross and fantastick, neither head nor tail. "Poets and Painters ever were allow'd Some daring flight above the vulgar croud." True: we indulge them in that daring flight, And challenge in our turn, an equal right: But not the soft and savage to combine, Serpents to doves, to tigers lambkins join.

Oft works of promise large, and high attempt, Are piec'd and guarded, to escape contempt, With here and there a remnant highly drest, That glitters thro' the gloom of all the rest. Then Dian's grove and altar are the theme, Then thro' rich meadows flows the silver stream; The River Rhine, perhaps, adorns the lines, Or the gay Rainbow in description shines.

These we allow have each their several grace; But each and several now are out of place.

A cypress you can draw; what then? you're hir'd, And from your art a sea-piece is requir'd; Navibus, aere dato qui pingitur amphora coepit Institui: currente rot? cur urceus exit? Denique sit quidvis simplex duntaxat et unum.

Maxima pars vatum, Decipimur specie recti. Brevis esse laboro, Obscurus sio: sectantem laevia, nervi Desiciunt anim?que: prosessus grandia turget: Serpit humi tutus nimi?m timid?sque procellae. Qui variare cupit rem prodigaliter unam, Delphinum silvis appingit, fluctibus aprum. In vitium dycit culpae fuga, si caret arte.

A shipwreck'd mariner, despairing, faint, you are ordain'd to paint. Why dwindle to a cruet from a tun? Simple be all you execute, and one!

Lov'd fire! lov'd sons, well worthy such a fire! Most bards are dupes to beauties they admire. Proud to be brief, for brevity must please, I grow obscure; the follower of ease Wants nerve and soul; the lover of sublime Swells to bombast; while he who dreads that crime, Too fearful of the whirlwind rising round, A wretched reptile, creeps along the ground. The bard, ambitious fancies who displays, And tortures one poor thought a thousand ways, Heaps prodigies on prodigies; in woods Pictures the dolphin, and the boar in floods! Thus ev'n the fear of faults to faults betrays, Unless a master-hand conduct the lays. Aemilium circa ludum faber imus et ungues Exprimet, et molles imitabitur aere capillos, Infelix operis summ?, quia ponere totum Nesciet: hunc ego me, si quid componere curem, Non magis esse velim, qu?m pravo vivere naso, Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.

Sumite materiam vostris, qui scribitis, aequam Viribus: et versate diu, quid ferre recusent Quid valeant humeri. Cui lecta potenter erit res, Nec facundia deferet hunc, nec lucidus ordo.

Select, all ye who write, a subject fit, A subject, not too mighty for your wit! And ere you lay your shoulders to the wheel, Weigh well their strength, and all their weakness feel! He, who his subject happily can chuse, Wins to his favour the benignant Muse; The aid of eloquence he ne'er shall lack, And order shall dispose and clear his track.

Order, I trust, may boast, nor boast in vain, These Virtues and these Graces in her train. What on the instant should be said, to say; Things, best reserv'd at present, to delay; Hoc amet, hoc spernat, promissi carminis auctor.

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque ferendis, Dixeris egregi?, notum si callida verbum Reddiderit junctura novum: si fort? necesse est Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum; Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis Continget: dabiturque licentia sumpta pudenter. Et nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si Graeco fonte cadant, parc? detorta. Quid autem? Caecilio, Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademptum Virgilio, Varioque? ego cur acquirere pauca Guiding the bard, thro' his continu'd verse, What to reject, and when; and what rehearse.

Res gestae regumque ducumque et tristia bella, Quo scribi possent numero, monstravit Homerus.

Versibus impariter junctis querimonia prim?m, P?st etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos. Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor, Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.

Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo. Hunc socci cep?re pedem, grandesque cothurni, Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis. The works of mortal man shall all decay; And words are grac'd and honour'd but a day: Many shall rise again, that now are dead; Many shall fall, that now hold high the head: Custom alone their rank and date can teach, Custom, the sov'reign, law, and rule of speech.

For deeds of kings and chiefs, and battles fought, What numbers are most fitting, Homer taught:

Couplets unequal were at first confin'd To speak in broken verse the mourner's mind. Prosperity at length, and free content, In the same numbers gave their raptures vent; But who first fram'd the Elegy's small song, Grammarians squabble, and will squabble long.

Archilochus, 'gainst vice, a noble rage Arm'd with his own Iambicks to engage: With these the humble Sock, and Buskin proud Shap'd dialogue; and still'd the noisy croud; Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque deorum, Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum, Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.

Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores, Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, po?ta salutor? Cur nescire, pudens prav?, qu?m discere malo?

Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult; Indignatur item privatis ac prope socco Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyestae. Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decenter. Embrac'd the measure, prov'd its ease and force, And found it apt for business or discourse.

Gods, and the sons of Gods, in Odes to sing, The Muse attunes her Lyre, and strikes the string; Victorious Boxers, Racers, mark the line, The cares of youthful love, and joys of wine.

The various outline of each work to fill, If nature gives no power, and art no skill; If, marking nicer shades, I miss my aim, Why am I greeted with a Poet's name? Or if, thro' ignorance, I can't discern, Why, from false modesty, forbear to learn!

A comick incident loaths tragick strains: Thy feast, Thyestes, lowly verse disdains; Familiar diction scorns, as base and mean, Touching too nearly on the comick scene. Each stile allotted to its proper place, Let each appear with its peculiar grace! Interdum tamen et vocem comoedia tollit; Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore; Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri. Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque, Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba, Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querel?.

Non satis est pulchra esse po?mata; dulcia sunto, Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto. Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent Humani vultus; si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent. Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris, Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia moestum Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum; Yet Comedy at times exalts her strain, And angry Chremes storms in swelling vein: The tragick hero, plung'd in deep distress, Sinks with his fate, and makes his language less. Peleus and Telephus, poor, banish'd! each Drop their big six-foot words, and sounding speech; Or else, what bosom in their grief takes part, Which cracks the ear, but cannot touch the heart?

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