George Chapman

"'Tis immortality to die aspiring, As if a man were taken quick to heaven."

"Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea Loves t' have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low That she drinks water, and her keel plows air."

"There is no danger to the man that knows What life and death is; there's not any law Exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful That he should stoop to any other law. He goes before them, and commands them all, That to himself is a law rational."

"O Innocence, the sacred amulet 'Gainst all the poisons of infirmity; Of all misfortune, injury, and death, That makes a man in tune still in himself; Free from the hell to be his own accuser, Ever in quiet, endless joy enjoying; No strife nor no sedition in his powers; No motion in his will against his reason, No thought 'gainst thought— But (all parts in him, friendly and secure, Fruitful of all best things in all worst seasons) He can with every wish be in their plenty; When the infectious guilt of one foul crime Destroys the free content of all our time."

"He is at no end of his actions blest Whose ends will make him greatest, and not best."

"Achilles' baneful wrath resound, O Goddess, that imposed Infinite sorrows on the Greeks, and many brave souls loosed From breasts heroic, sent them far to that invisible cave That no light comforts, and their limbs to dogs and vultures gave; To all which Jove's will gave effect; from whom first strife begun Betwixt Atrides, king of men, and Thetis' godlike son."

"The lady of the light, the rosy-fingered Morn, Rose from the hills."

"What man can blame The Greekes and Trojans to endure, for so admired a Dame, So many miseries, and so long? In her sweet countenance shine Lookes like the Godesses."

"This said, he reached to take his son; who, of his arms afraid, And then the horse-hair plume, with which he was so overlaid, Nodded so horribly, he clinged back to his nurse, and cried. Laughter affected his great sire, who doffed and laid aside His fearful helm, that on the earth cast round about it light; Then took and kissed his loving son, and (balancing his weight In dancing him) these loving vows to living Jove he used, And all the other bench of gods: "O you that have infused Soul to this infant, now set down this blessing on his star: Let his renown be clear as mine; equal his strength in war.""

"As far as white Aurora's dews are sprinkled through the air."

"As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind, And stars shine clear; to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the brows Of all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows; And even the lowly valleys joy, to glitter in their sight, When the unmeasured firmament bursts to disclose her light, And all the signs in heaven are seen that glad the shepherd's heart."

"Mourne not inevitable things; thy teares can spring no deeds To helpe thee, nor recall thy sonne: impacience ever breeds Ill upon ill, makes worst things worse."

"Then forth he came, his both knees falt'ring, both His strong hands hanging down, and all with froth His cheeks and nostrils flowing, voice and breath Spent to all use, and down he sunk to death. The sea had soaked his heart through; all his veins His toils had rack'd t'a labouring woman's pains. Dead weary was he."

"Nor could the foole abstaine, But drunke as often."

"As night the life-inclining stars best shows, So lives obscure the starriest souls disclose."

"A race Of proud-lined loiterers, that never sow, Nor put a plant in earth, nor use a plough."

"Where ambition of place goes before fitness Of birth, contempt and disgrace follow."

"Two eagles, That mounted on the wings, together still Their strokes extended."

"You shall die Twice now, where others, that mortality In her fair arms holds, shall but once decease."

"Friendship is the cement of two minds, As of one man the soul and body is; Of which one cannot sever but the other Suffers a needful separation."

"Swift men of foot, whose broad-set backs their trailing hair did hide."

"Men’s judgments sway on that side fortune leans."

"Soon as the white and red mix’d finger’d dame Had gilt the mountains with her saffron flame."

"The morning, on her throne of gold, Survey’d the vast world, by whose orient light The nymph adorn’d me with attires as bright."

"The isle Ææa, where the palace stands Of the early riser, with the rosy hands, Active Aurora; where she loves to dance."

"Yet hath the morning sprinkled through the clouds But half her tincture; and the sail of night Sticks still upon the bosom of the air."

"The seas retain Not only their outrageous esture there, But supernatural mischief they expire."

"Nothing so sweete is as our countrie’s earth, And joy of those from whom we claime our birth."

"True courtiers should be modest, and not nice; Bold, but not impudent; pleasure love, not vice."

"The blest gods do not love Ungodly actions; but respect the right, And in the works of pious men delight."

"Within a thicket I reposed; when round I ruffled up fall’n leaves in heaps, and found, Let fall from heaven, a sleep interminate."

"All fell upon the high-hair’d oaks, and down their curled brows Fell bustling to the earth; and up went all the boles and boughs."

"Our hopes, I see, resemble much the sun, That rising and declining cast large shadows; But when his beams are dressed in's midday brightness, Yields none at all: when they are farthest from Success, their guilt reflection does display The largest shows of events fair and prosperous."

"I am ashamed the law is such an ass."

"Words writ in waters."

"They're only truly great who are truly good."

"I know an Englishman, Being flattered, is a lamb; threatened, a lion."

"If Homer could return from Elysium to read all the English renderings, he would surely find in Chapman his truest son, a man who has fed on lions' marrow."

"The translation of Homer, published by George Chapman, in the reign of queen Elizabeth and king James, is one of the greatest treasures the English language has to boast."

"He has more thinking than many of the old dramatists; and the praise of one of his critics, though strongly worded, is not without some foundation, that we "seldom find richer contemplations on the nature of man and the world.""

"Chapman, ... where he lays aside the gravity of the philosopher and poet, discovers an unexpected comic vein, distinguished by equal truth of nature and lively good humour."

"Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific—and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise— Silent, upon a peak in Darien."

"Of all the English Play-writers, Chapman perhaps approaches nearest to Shakspeare in the descriptive and didactic, in passages which are less purely dramatic. Dramatic Imitation was not his talent. He could not go out of himself, as Shakspeare could shift at pleasure, to inform and animate other existences, but in himself he had an eye to perceive and a soul to embrace all forms. He would have made a great Epic Poet, if, indeed, he has not abundantly shown himself to be one; for his Homer is not so properly a Translation as the Stories of Achilles and Ulysses re-written. The earnestness and passion which he has put into every part of these poems would be incredible to a reader of mere modern translations. His almost Greek zeal for the honour of his heroes is only paralleled by that fierce spirit of Hebrew bigotry, with which Milton, as if personating one of the Zealots of the old law, clothed himself when he sate down to paint the acts of Samson against the Uncircumcised. The great obstacle to Chapman's Translations being read is their unconquerable quaintness. He pours out in the same breath the most just and natural and the most violent and forced expressions. He seems to grasp whatever words come first to hand during the impetus of inspiration, as if all other must be inadequate to the divine meaning. But passion (the all in all in Poetry) is everywhere present, raising the low, dignifying the mean, and putting sense into the absurd. He makes his readers glow, weep, tremble, take any affection which he pleases, be moved by words, or in spite of them, be disgusted and overcome their disgust. I have often thought that the vulgar misconception of Shakspeare, as of a wild irregular genius "in whom great faults are compensated by great beauties," would be really true applied to Chapman."