Shot at the sun by angry Hercules,
And into splinters by the thunder broken.”
Dryden taxes Chapman with “incorrect English.” This is altogether wrong. His English is of the best, and far less licentious than Dryden’s own, which was also the best of its kind. Chapman himself says (or makes Montsurry in “Bussy d’Ambois” say for him):—
“Worthiest poets
Shun common and plebeian forms of speech,
Every illiberal and affected phrase,
To clothe their matter, and together tie
Matter and form with art and decency.”
And yet I should say that if Chapman’s English had any fault, it comes of his fondness for homespun words, and for images which, if not essentially vulgar, become awkwardly so by being forced into company where they feel themselves out of place. For example, in the poem which prefaces his Homer, full of fine thought, fitly uttered in his large way, he suddenly compares the worldlings he is denouncing to “an itching horse leaning to a block or a May-pole.” He would have justified himself, I suppose, by Homer’s having compared Ajax to an ass, for I think he really half believed that the spirit of Homer had entered into him and replaced his own. So in “Bussy,”—
“Love is a razor cleansing if well used,