SUR LA PRISE DE NAMUR, PAR LES ARMES DU ROI, L'ANNEE 1692. PAR MONSIEUR BOILEAU DESPREAUX. QUELLE docte et sainte yvresse Dans ses chansons immortelles, Fuit loin des vulgaires yeux. Tu peux suivre mes transports; La douceur de tes accords. 101 ENGLISH BALLAD. ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR, BY THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, 16951. Dulce est desipere in loco. SOME folks are drunk, yet do not know it: Or virgin of St. Cyr you saw? Why all this fury? what's the matter, That oaks must come from Thrace to dance? Must stupid stocks be taught to flatter? And is there no such wood in France? Why must the winds all hold their tongue? If they a little breath should raise, Would that have spoil'd the poet's song, Or puff'd away the monarch's praise? Pindar, that eagle, mounts the skies, While Virtue leads the noble way; Too like a vulture Boileau flies, Where sordid interest shows the prey. When once the poet's honour ceases, From reason far his transports rove; And Boileau, for eight hundred pieces, Makes Louis take the wall of Jove. Namur was taken by the French in 1692, on which occasion Boileau composed his Pindaric; it was retaken by the English in 1695, when Prior executed this most happy burlesque parody. Est-ce Apollon et Neptune, Qui sur ces rocs sourcilleux Basti ces murs orgueilleux ? Et par cent bouches horribles L'airain sur ces monts terribles Vomit le fer, et la mort. Dix mille vaillans Alcides Un feu prest à s'élancer, Namur, devant tes murailles Qu c'est le vainqueur de Mons. Neptune and Sol came from above, Shaped like Megrigny and Vauban'; They arm'd these rocks; then show'd old Jove Of gods, as well as men, mistaken. Full fifteen thousand lusty fellows, With fire and sword the fort maintain; Each was a Hercules, you tell us, Yet out they marched like common men. Did death and tombs for foes contrive; If Namur be compared to Troy, Then Britain's boys excell'd the Greeks; Shall fright the world with impious thunder. 2 Two famous engineers. 3 Mons surrendered to Louis XIV. April 10, 1691. N'en doute point: c'est luy-même. Rangé sous ses étendars : Plein de la frayeur nouvelle, Les peuples les plus vantés. De l'or, qui roule en ses eaux; Ceux-ci des champs, où la neige Des marais de la Norvége Neuf mois couvre les roseaux, Mais qui fait enfler la Sambre ? De voir en proye à Borée |