Addison

No. 229

Thursday, November 22, 1711

—Spirat adhuc amor,
Vivuntque commissi calores
Æoliæ fidibus puellæ.

Hor.

Among

the many famous Pieces of Antiquity which are still to be seen at

Rome

, there is the Trunk of a Statue

which has lost the Arms, Legs, and Head; but discovers such an exquisite Workmanship in what remains of it, that

Michael Angelo

declared he had learned his whole Art from it. Indeed he studied it so attentively, that he made most of his Statues, and even his Pictures in that

Gusto

, to make use of the

Italian

Phrase; for which Reason this maimed Statue is still called

Michael Angelo's

School.

A

Fragment

of

Sappho

, which I design for the Subject of this Paper

, is in as great Reputation among the Poets and Criticks, as the mutilated Figure above-mentioned is among the Statuaries and Painters. Several of our Countrymen, and Mr.

Dryden

in particular, seem very often to have copied after it in their Dramatick Writings; and in their Poems upon Love.

Whatever might have been the Occasion of this Ode, the English Reader will enter into the Beauties of it, if he supposes it to have been written in the Person of a Lover sitting by his Mistress. I shall set to View three different Copies of this beautiful Original: The first is a Translation by

Catullus

, the second by Monsieur

Boileau

, and the last by a Gentleman whose Translation of the

Hymn to Venus

has been so deservedly admired.

Ad Lesbiam

Ille mî par esse deo videtur,
Ille, si fas est, superare divos,
Qui sedens adversus identidem te,
Spectat, et audit.

Dulce ridentem, misero quod omnis
Eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te,
Lesbia, adspexi, nihil est super mî
Quod loquar amens.

Lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus
Flamnia dimanat, sonitu suopte
Tinniunt aures, gemina teguntur
Lumina nocte.

My

learned Reader will know very well the Reason why one of these Verses is printed in

Roman

Letter

; and if he compares this Translation with the Original, will find that the three first Stanzas are rendred almost Word for Word, and not only with the same Elegance, but with the same short Turn of Expression which is so remarkable in the

Greek

, and so peculiar to the

Sapphick

Ode. I cannot imagine for what Reason Madam

Dacier

has told us, that this Ode of

Sappho

is preserved entire in

Longinus

, since it is manifest to any one who looks into that Author's Quotation of it, that there must at least have been another Stanza, which is not transmitted to us.

The second Translation of this Fragment which I shall here cite, is that of Monsieur

Boileau

Heureux! qui prés de toi, pour toi seule soûpire:
Qui jouït du plaisir de t'entendre parler:
Qui te voit quelquefois doucement lui soûrire.
Les Dieux, dans son bonheur, peuvent-ils l'égaler?

Je sens de veine en veine une subtile flamme
Courir par tout mon corps, si-tost que je te vois:
Et dans les doux transports, où s'egare mon ame,
Je ne sçaurois trouver de langue, ni de voix.

Un nuage confus se répand sùr ma vuë,
Je n'entens plus, je tombe en de douces langueurs;
Et pâle, sans haleine, interdite, esperduë,
Un frisson me saisit, je tremble, je me meurs.

The Reader will see that this is rather an Imitation than a Translation. The Circumstances do not lie so thick together, and follow one another with that Vehemence and Emotion as in the Original. In short, Monsieur

Boileau

has given us all the Poetry, but not all the Passion of this famous Fragment. I shall, in the last Place, present my Reader with the

English

Translation.

I Blest as th'immortal Gods is he,
The Youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while
Softly speak and sweetly smile.

II 'Twas this deprived my Soul of Rest,
And raised such Tumults in my Breast;
For while I gaz'd, in Transport tost,
My Breath was gone, my Voice was lost:

III My Bosom glowed; the subtle Flame
Ran quick through all my vital Frame;
O'er my dim Eyes a Darkness hung;
My Ears with hollow Murmurs rung.

IV In dewy Damps my Limbs were chil'd;
My Blood with gentle Horrors thrill'd;
My feeble Pulse forgot to play;
I fainted, sunk, and dy'd away.

Instead of giving any Character of this last Translation, I shall desire my learned Reader to look into the Criticisms which

Longinus

has made upon the Original. By that means he will know to which of the Translations he ought to give the Preference. I shall only add, that this Translation is written in the very Spirit of

Sappho

, and as near the

Greek

as the Genius of our Language will possibly suffer.

Longinus

has observed, that this Description of Love in

Sappho

is an exact Copy of Nature, and that all the Circumstances which follow one another in such an Hurry of Sentiments, notwithstanding they appear repugnant to each other, are really such as happen in the Phrenzies of Love.

I wonder, that not one of the Criticks or Editors, through whose Hands this Ode has passed, has taken Occasion from it to mention a Circumstance related by

Plutarch

That

Author in the famous Story of

Antiochus

, who fell in Love with

Stratonice

, his Mother-in-law, and (not daring to discover his Passion) pretended to be confined to his Bed by Sickness, tells us, that

Erasistratus

, the Physician, found out the Nature of his Distemper by those Symptoms of Love which he had learnt from

Sappho's

Writings

Stratonice

was in the Room of the Love-sick Prince, when these Symptoms discovered themselves to his Physician; and it is probable, that they were not very different from those which

Sappho

here describes in a Lover sitting by his Mistress. This Story of

Antiochus

is so well known, that I need not add the Sequel of it, which has no Relation to my present Subject.

C.

Footnote 1:

The Belvidere Torso.

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2:

The other translation by Ambrose Philips. See note to No.

Footnote 3:

Wanting in copies then known, it is here supplied by conjecture.

Footnote 4:

In Plutarch's

Life of Demetrius.

'When others entered Antiochus was entirely unaffected. But when Stratonice came in, as she often did, he shewed all the symptoms described by Sappho, the faltering voice, the burning blush, the languid eye, the sudden sweat, the tumultuous pulse; and at length, the passion overcoming his spirits, a swoon and mortal paleness.'

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