Nor had he before less happily rendered the 39th verse of the second
Aeneid:
Scinditur in certum studia in contraria vulgus.
The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide,
With noise, say nothing, and in parts divide.
"If these are the lines which they call flat and spiritless, I wish mine could be flat and spiritless too! And, therefore, to make short work, I shall only beg Mr. Dryden's leave to congratulate him upon his admirable flatness, and dulness, in a rapture of poetical indignation:
Then dares the poring critic snarl? And dare
The[21a] puny brats of Momus threaten war?
And can't the proud perverse Arachne's fate
Deter the[21a] mongrels e'er it prove too late?
In vain, alas! we warn the[21a] hardened brood;
In vain expect they'll ever come to good.
No: they'd conceive more venom if they could.
But let each[21a] viper at his peril bite,
While you defy the most ingenious spite.
So Parian columns, raised with costly care,
[21a] Vile snails and worms may daub, yet not impair,
While the tough titles, and obdurate rhyme,
Fatigue the busy grinders of old Time.
Not but your Maro justly may complain,
Since your translation ends his ancient reign,
And but by your officious muse outvied,
That vast immortal name had never died.
"[21a] I desire these appellations may not seem to affect the parties concerned, any otherwise than as to their character of critics."
[22] Preface to the Fables, vol. xi.
[23] See several extracts from these poems in the Appendix, vol. xviii., which I have thrown together to show how much Dryden was considered as sovereign among the poets of the time.
[24] This I learn from Honori Sacellum, a Funeral Poem, to the Memory of William, Duke of Devonshire, 1707:
"'Twas so, when the destroyer's dreadful dart
Once pierced through ours, to fair Maria's heart.
From his state-helm then some short hours he stole,
T'indulge his melting eyes, and bleeding soul:
Whilst his bent knees, to those remains divine,
Paid their last offering to that royal shrine."