TRANSLATIONS
OF LORD BELGRAVE’S MEMORABLE QUOTATIONS, AS INTRODUCED IN A SPEECH DELIVERED BY HIS LORDSHIP IN A LATE DEBATE.
[It is with singular satisfaction we communicate the following most excellent versions of Lord BELGRAVE’s never-to-be-forgotten quotation; trusting, as we sincerely do, that so mark’d an attention to his Lordship’s scholarship may considerably console him under his melancholy failure as an orator.]
Lord BELGRAVE’s Quotation.
Τον δαπαμειβομενος προσεφη ποδας οκυς Αχιλλευς.
Translation by Lord Grosvenor.
His dam was Thetis, Æacus his Sire,
And for his paces he was nam’d Highflyer.
Another by Sir Joseph Mawbey.
Achilles, who was quite a man of whim,
And also had a swift foot, answer’d him——
Another by Sir Cecil Wray.
There was a man, Achilles he was call’d, }
He had two feet, they were so swift, he ball’d, }
Or otherwise, he mought, I say, have fall’d. }
Another by Lord Mornington, and Lord Graham.
With lightest heels oppos’d to heaviest head,
To Lord Atrides, Lord Achilles said——
Another by the Chancellor.
To him Achilles, with a furious nod,
Replied, a very pretty speech, by G—d!
Another by Mr. Grenville.
The Grecian speaker rose with look so big,
It spoke his bottom and nigh burst his wig——
Another by Brook Watson.
Up stood Achilles on his nimble pegs,
And said, “May I pree-seume to shew my legs?”
Another by Mr. Wilberforce.
Achilles came forward to snivel and rant;
His spirit was spleen and his piety cant.
Another by Mr. Pitt.
Frantic with rage, uprose the fierce Achilles:
“How comfortably calm!” said Nestor Willis——
Translation by Sir John Scott.
With metaphysic art his speech he plann’d,
And said what nobody could understand.
Another by Mr. Bastard.
The Trojan I oppose, he said, ’tis true,
But I abuse and hate Atrides too.
Another by Lord Fawconberg.
Enrag’d Achilles never would agree,
A “petty vote,” a “menial slave,” was he.
Another by Mons. Alderman Le Mesurier.
By gar, Achille he say, I make a you
Parler anoder launguage, ventre bleu!
Another by Lord Westcote.
Pliant and prompt in crane-neck curves to wheel,
Achilles rose, and turn’d upon his heel.
Another by Mr. Wilbraham Beetle.
In oily terms he urg’d the chiefs to peace,
For none was more a friend than he to Grease.
Another by Lord Bayham.
His conscious hat well lin’d with borrow’d prose,
The lubber chief in sulky mien arose;
Elate with pride his long pent silence broke,
And could he but have read, he might have spoke.
Another by Mr. Dundas.
Up the bra’ chield arose, and weel I wis }
To beath sides booing, begg’d ’em to dismiss }
Their wordy warfare in “a general peece.”[1] }
Another by Mr. York.
This windy war, he swore, he could not hear;
So eas’d his troubles by “a stream of air![2]”
Another by Lord Fawconberg.
Achilles swore he felt by no means hurt,
At putting on great Agamemnon’s shirt;
He priz’d the honour, never grudg’d the trouble,
And only wish’d the profit had been double.
Another by Lord Winchelsea.
With formal mien, and visage most forlorn,
The courtly hero spoke his silent scorn.
Another by Lord Sydney.
The chief, unknowing how he shou’d begin, }
First darts around, the’ opposing ranks to thin, }
The lightnings of his eye, and terrors of his chin. }
Another by Mr. Brandling.
Achilles rose, and said, without the least offence,
The dog has neither courage, worth, nor sense.
Another by Lord Belgrave.
Huic, ceu Pititius ipse, cito respondit Achilles,
Namque (ut ego) Græceque seirens erat, & pede velox.
Another by the Twelve Lords of the Bedchamber, in a passion.
Frantic with desperate rage, Achilles roar’d—
I beg ten thousand pardons, my dear Lord.
Another by Eighteen Bishops, quite cool.
Now’t came to pass the Lord Achilles saith,
Hecate and Furies, Tartarus and Death.
Another by Lord Howe.
Hawling his wind abaft Atrides’ wake,
The copper-bottom’d son of Peleus spake.
Another by Sir Joseph Mawbey.
Had great Achilles stood but half as quiet,
He had been by Xanthus drench’d as I by Wyatt.
[1] It is impossible for the reader to comprehend the full force of this expression, unless he recollect the wonderful effects it produced in the House of Commons from Mr. Dundas’s peculiar dialect, upon that memorable occasion, when that great diuretic orator, expatiating on Oriental tranquillity, assured the House, that “at that moment all India was peece—Bengal was at peece—Tippo sultan was at peece—The Mahrattas were at peece—Every creature in Indostan, he knew it for a fawct, was comfortably at peece!!!”
[2] However sympathetic in politics, it is evident that the two last of these translators are at variance in philosophy—the former relying on the hydraulic system—-the latter on the pneumatic.