The Works of Alexander Pope (1717)/The first Book of Statius his Thebais

by Alexander Pope

 

 

THE

FIRST BOOK

OF

STATIUS

HIS

THEBAIS.

Translated in the Year 1703.

 

 

 

 

The ARGUMENT.

 

OEdipus King of Thebes having by mistake slain bis father Laius, and marry'd his mother Jocasta, put out his own eyes, and resignd the realm to bis sons, Etheocles and Polynices. Being neglected by them, he makes his prayer to the fury Tisiphone, to sow debate betwixt the brothers. They agree at last to reign singly, each a year by turns, and the first lot is obtain'd by Etheocles. Jupiter, in a council of the Gods, declares his resolution of punishing the Thebans, and Argives also, by means of a marriage betwixt Polynices and one of the daughters of Adrastus King of Argos. Juno opposes, but to no effect; and Mercury is sent on a message to the shades, to the ghost of Laius, who is to appear to Etheocles, and provoke him to break the agreement. Polynices in the mean time departs from Thebes by night, is overtaken by a form, and arrives at Argos; where he meets with Tydeus, who had fled from Calydon, having kill'd his brother. Adrastus entertains them, having receiv'd an oracle from Apollo that his daughters should be marry'd to a Boar and a Lion, which he understands to be meant of these strangers by whom the hides of those beasts were worn, and who arriv'd at the time when he kept an annual feast in honour of that God. The rise of this solemnity he relates to his guests, the loves of Phœbus and Psamathe, and the story of Choræbus. He enquires, and is made acquainted with, their descent and quality: The sacrifice is renew'd, and the book concludes with a Hymn to Apollo.

 

THE

FIRST BOOK

OF

STATIUS his THEBAIS.

 

raternal rage, the guilty Thebes alarms,
Th' alternate reign destroy'd by impious arms,
Demand our song; a sacred fury fires
My ravish'd breast, and all the Muse inspires.
O Goddess, say, shall I deduce my rhimes
From the dire nation in its early times,
Europa's rape, Agenor's stern decree,
And Cadmus searching round the spacious sea?
How with the serpent's teeth he sow'd the soil,
And reap'd an Iron harvest of his toil;
Or how from joining stones the city sprung,
While to his harp divine Amphion sung?
Or shall I Juno's hate to Thebes resound,
Whose fatal rage th' unhappy Monarch found;
The fire against the son his arrows drew,
O'er the wide fields the furious mother flew,
And while her arms her second hope contain,
Sprung from the rocks, and plung'd into the main.
But wave whate'er to Cadmus may belong,
And fix, O Muse! the barrier of thy song,
At Oedipus———from his disasters trace
The long confusions of his guilty race.
Nor yet attempt to stretch thy bolder wing,
And mighty Cæsar's conqu'ring eagles sing;
How twice he tam'd proud Ister's rapid flood,
While Dacian mountains stream'd with barb'rous blood;
Twice taught the Rhine beneath his laws to roll,
And stretch'd his empire to the frozen pole;
Or long before, with early valour strove,
In youthful arms t'assert the cause of Jove.
And thou, great heir of all thy father's fame,
Encrease of glory to the Latian name;
Oh bless thy Rome with an eternal reign,
Nor let desiring worlds intreat in vain!
What tho' the stars contract their heav'nly space,
And crowd their shining ranks to yield thee place:
Tho' all the skies, ambitious of thy sway,
Conspire to court thee from our world away;
Tho' Phœbus longs to mix his rays with thine,
And in thy glories more serenely shine;
Tho' Jove himself no less content would be,
To part his throne and share his heav'n with thee;
Yet stay, great Cæsar! and vouchsafe to reign
O'er the wide earth, and o'er the watry main,
Resign to Jove his empire of the skies,
And people heav'n with Roman Deities.
The time will come when a diviner flame
Shall warm my breast to sing of Cæsar's fame:
Meanwhile permit, that my preluding Muse.
In Theban wars an humbler theme may chuse:
Of furious hate surviving death, she sings,
A fatal throne to two contending Kings,
And fun'ral flames, that parting wide in air,
Express the discord of the souls they bear:
Of towns dispeopled, and the wand'ring ghosts
Of Kings unbury'd on the wasted coasts;
When Dirce's fountain blush'd with Grecian blood,
And Thetis, near Ismenos' swelling flood,
With dread beheld the rolling surges sweep
In heaps, his slaughter'd sons into the deep.
What hero, Clio! wilt thou first relate?
The raging Tydeus, or the Prophet's fate?
Or how with hills of slain on ev'ry side,
Hippomedon repell'd the hostile tyde?
Or how the ^[1]youth with ev'ry grace adorn'd,
Untimely fell, to be for ever mourn'd?
Then to fierce Capaneus thy verse extend,
And sing, with horror, his prodigious end.
Now wretched Oedipus, depriv'd of sight,
Led a long death in everlasting night;
But while he dwells where not a chearful ray
Can pierce the darkness, and abhors the day;
The clear, reflecting mind, presents his sin
In frightful views, and makes it day within;
Returning thoughts in endless circles roll,
And thousand furies haunt his guilty soul.
The wretch then lifted to th' unpitying skies
Those empty orbs, from whence he tore his eyes,
Whose wounds yet fresh, with bloody hands he strook,
While from his breast these dreadful accents broke.
Ye Gods that o'er the gloomy regions reign
Where guilty spirits feel eternal pain;
Thou, fable Styx! whose livid streams are roll'd
Thro' dreary coasts which I, tho' blind, behold:
Tisiphone, that oft' hast heard my pray'r,
Assist, if Oedipus deserve thy care!
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Her num'rous off-spring for a fatal boast.
In Phlegias' doom thy just revenge appears,
Condemn'd to furies and eternal fears;
He views his food, but dreads, with lifted eye,
The mouldring rock that trembles from on high.
Propitious hear our pray'r, O Pow'r divine!
And on thy hospitable Argos shine.
Whether the style of Titan please thee more,
Whose purple rays th' Achæmenes adore;
Or great Osyris, who first taught the swain
In Pharian fields to sow the golden grain;
Or Mitra, to whose beams the Persian bows,
And pays, in hollow rocks, his awful vows,
Mitra, whose head the blaze of light adorns,
Who grasps the strugling Heifer's lunar horns.

 

1. Parthenopæus.