Note 230 — BOOK XIII.

Compare Chapman’s quaint, bold verses:— “And as a round piece of a rocke, which with a winter’s flood Is from his top torn, when a shoure poured from a bursten cloud, Hath broke the naturall band it had within the roughftey rock, Flies jumping all adourne the woods, resounding everie shocke, And on, uncheckt, it headlong leaps till in a plaine it stay, And then (tho’ never so impelled), it stirs not any way:— So Hector,—”