rob it of its native luftre. There is, therefore, a liberty to be allowed for the expreffion; neither is it neceffary that words and lines fhould be confined to the measure of their original. The fenfe of an author, generally fpeaking, is to be facred and inviolable. If the fancy of Ovid be luxuriant, it is his character to be fo; and if I retrench it, he is no longer Ovid. It will be replied, that he receives advantage by this lopping of his fuperfluous branches; but I rejoin, that a tranflator has no fuch right. When a painter copies from the life, I suppose he has no privilege to alter features, and lineaments, under pretence that his picture will look better: perhaps the face, which he has drawn, would be more exact, if the eyes or nofe were altered ; but it is his business to make it resemble the original. In two cafes only there may a feeming difficulty arife; that is, if the thought be notoriously trivial, or dishonest: but the fame answer will ferve for both, that then they ought not to be translated : Et qua Defperes tractata nitefcere poffe, relinquas. Thus I have ventured to give my opinion on this fubject against the authority of two great men, but I hope without offence to either of their memories; for I both loved them living, and reverence them now they are dead. But, if, after what I have urged, it be thought by better judges, that the praise of a tranflation confifts in adding new beauties to the piece, thereby to recompenfe the lofs which it fuftains by change of language, I fhall be willing to be taught better, and to recant. In the mean time, it seems to me, that the true reason, why we have so few versions which are tolerable, is not from the too close pursuing of the author's fenfe, but because there are fo few, who have all the talents, which are requifite for tranflation, and that there is fo little praife, and fo fmall encouragement, for fo confiderable a part of learning. CANACE TO MACAREUS. EPIST. XI. THE ARGUMENT. Macareus and Canace, fon and daughter to Æolus, God of the Winds, loved each other incestuously: Canace was delivered of a fon, and committed him to her nurse, to be fecretly conveyed away. The infant crying out, by that means was difcovered to Æolus, who, inraged at the wickedness of his children, commanded the babe to be exposed to wild beasts on the mountains: and withal, sent a sword to Canace, with this message, That her crimes would inftruct ber how to use it. With this fword fhe flew herself: but before he died, fhe writ the following letter to her brother Macareus, who had taken fanctuary in the temple of Apollo. I F ftreaming blood my fatal letter ftain, Imagine, ere you read, the writer flain; One hand the sword, and one the pen employs, And in my lap the ready paper lies. Think in this posture thou behold'st me write : In this my cruel father would delight. O! were he prefent, that his eyes and hands! Might fee, and urge, the death which he commands: Than all the raging winds more dreadful, he, The North and South, and each contending blast, Ah! what avail my kindred Gods above, grow, I knew not from my love these griefs did Yet was, alas, the thing I did not know. My wily nurse by long experience found, And first discover'd to my foul its wound. 'Tis love, faid fhe; and then my down-caft eyes, And guilty dumbness, witnefs'd my furprize. Forc'd at the last, my fhameful pain I tell : And, oh, what follow'd we both know too well! "When half denying, more than half content, "Embraces warm'd me to a full confent. "Then with tumultuous joys my heart did beat, "And guilt that made them anxious made them great." But now my fwelling womb heav'd up my breast, My throes came thicker, and my cries increas'd, Which with her hand the conscious nurfe fupprefs'd. To that unhappy fortune was I come, Pain urg'd my clamors, but fear kept me dumb. Live, my love. The babe, as if he heard what thou hadft fworn, High in his hall, rock'd in a chair of state, |