NOTES

TO THE

BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE.

Note', p. 45.] Awake my song.

Musa, tu che cantasti i fatti egregi
Del Re de Topi e de le Rane antiche,
Si che ne sono ancor fioriti e fregi

La per le piagge d'Elicona apriche.

Tassoni Secchia Rapita, c. v, s. 23.

Muse, who didst sing the wondrous exploits done
By the stout king of Mice, and Frogs of yore,

Whence mid the sunny lawns of Helicon

Still fresh they bloom, and deckt with flowerets o'er.—

And shamed in might the giant's earth-born brood.

Non tantos motus, nec tam memorabile bellum,
Mæonius quondam sublimi carmine vates
Lusit; ubi totam strepituque armisque paludem
Miscuit hic (visu miserabile!) corpora muruma

Sparsa jacent juncis transfixa, hic gutture rauco
Rana dolet, pedibusque abscisso poplite ternis
Reptat humi, solitis nec sese saltibus effert.

Addison, IIYTMAIO-TEPANOMAXIA, 46.

Not such the rout, not such the immortal fray,
Erst by the bard portray'd in loftiest lay,
Mæonia's bard-when all the fen's fierce swarms
He stirr'd with tumult and the bray of arms.
Here, woeful sight, with reeds thrust thro' and thro'
Vast forms of Mice the encumbered plains o'erstrew;
There, with hoarse throat, the Frog bewaileth sore-
Doom'd to three feet, quadrupedal no more :
Shorn of one leg, along the ground he creeps
Slow-nor essays henceforth his wonted leaps.

Note3, p. 46.]

What sire begat thee, and what mother bore?

Justice. What is thy name?

Son. My name's Tom Jenkins, alias I have none
Tho' orphan'd and without a friend-

Son. My father dwelt in Rochester-and was,

As I have heard,—a fishmonger-no more.

Note*, p. 47.]

Critic, act. iii, s. 1.

Ne'er yet from battle's withering shout I fled.

Son of the sea, I never fled. Ossian, Carthon, vol. i, p. 90.

Note 5,
p. 49.]

Caitiff! on land I am thy better fur,

To cuff and kick, to wrestle, run, and spar.

So king Creillus, in the Galeomyomachia, describes himself as a knight, sans tache, sans peur.

οὐκ ἐθέλησα ζῆν τὸν ἄπονον βίον.

157. K. T. A.

No sluggard life was mine-my sole delight

Hath been to mingle with the men of might,
Ev'n from a boy--the lance, glaive, targe to wield,
Mount the fleet car, and thread the battle-field,

The foe to smite with timely stroke and stout,
Draw the tough bow and lanch the death shaft out ;-
In one short word, to learn-hath been mine aim-
All feats of war, as warrior best became.

Note, p. 50.]

Lay rock'd and rolling on the deep-sea billow.

Beside some fen shall his tomb be seen; it shall rest without song. His ghost shall hover in mist over the reedy pool.

Note7, p. 50.]

Ossian, Tem. vol. ii, p. 10

For death hath torn

From me three gallant bairns.

So king Sheep's-eye (Kρeïλλoç) in the Cat-and-Frog-fight.

καὶ γὰρ πρὸ καιροῦ τὴν ἐμὴν θυγατέρα.

1. 34. K. T. X.

Yes, all untimely, in her spring of youth,
My daughter fair, my loved Lick-Lamp-a-tooth
Woe worth the day! did curst Grimalkin paw

Before these eyes.

Loquitur Chip-cheese. I too have felt her claw:
Pride of my heart, my gentlest Gibletine,

She clutch'd, and Eat-Wheat, that brave boy of mine,

Her death-shriek heard-nought lingering-undismay'd

He rush'd to avenge his slaughtered sister's shade.

Note, p. 50.]

Uprise ye then, and don the arms of death.

Τόινυν κελεύω τοὺς ἐμὸι πεφιλμένους.

Galeomyomach. 173, к. 7. X.

Heed then my call, my liegemen dear ye are,
Up one and all, and throng the files of war.

With skill, with vengeance, valour, strength, go forth
Full arm'd let gentle blood shew generous worth."

Arise to battle, my thousands! pour round me like the echoing main. Gather round the bright steel of your king: strong as the rocks of my land; that meet the storm with joy; and stretch their dark pines to the wind. Ossian, Fingal, b. i.

Exalt, ye sons of Erin, exalt the spear, and bend the bow: rush on the foe in darkness, as the spirits of stormy nights!

Note 9, p. 52.]

Ossian, Fingal, b. ii.

By Centaur-chief or earth-born giant led.

Not such the numbers, nor the host so dread,
By Northern Brenn or Scythian Timur led.

Note 10

p. 53.]

Heber's Palestine.

Snuff the rich steam and wet the whiskered lip.

In accordance with this, Sheep's-eye's threat to Jupiter, in the Cat-and-Mouse Fight, savoureth somewhat of pot valour.

ὡς εἴπερ ου θήσει με νικητὴν μέγαν.

104, K. T. X.

Hear then, O Jove, the oath I swear,-if thou
Fail at my feet to make all nations bow,
Fail but to crest my war-plume, battle-tost,
With victory's wreath-thou failest to thy cost: