Imatges de pàgina

And to the field goes he ; where ev'ry Power
Did as a prophet weep what it foresaw,
In Hector's wrath,

Cri. What was his caufe of anger?
Serv. The noise goes thus ; There is among the

A Lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Heslor,
They call him Ajax.

Cre. Good, and what of him?

Serv. They say, he is a very man per fin and Atands alone.

Cre. So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.

Serv. This man, lady, hath robb’d many beasts of

constructions unbecessary, and Sprightly in his arms even before gives us the poet's meaning in Jun rise? or is a conundrum cim'd the properest terms imaginable. at, in Sun role and harneft lights Before the Sun poļe, he was Was any thing like it? but to harness-dight,

get out of this perplexity, he i. e. compleatly drest, accoutred, tells us that a very sligkı alterain arms. It is frequent with our tion makes all these conftrullions poet, from his masters Chaucer unnecessary, and so changes it to and Spenser, to say dighe for barnefs-dight. Yet indeed the deck'd; Pight, for pitcb'd; &c. very slighteft alteration will at and from them too he uses bar- any time let the poet's sense thro' ness for armour, THEOBALD. the critic's fingers : And the Ox* Before the Sun rose, he was ford Editor very contentedly takes

barneft light] Does the poet up with what is left behind, and mean (says Mr. T beobald) ihat reads harness.dight too, in order, Hector had put on light armour ? as Mr. Theobald well expresies it, mean ! what else could he mean? To make all conftrution uns ecefHe goes to fight on foot ; and fary.

WARBURTON. was not that the armour for his How does it appear that Heco purpofe. So Fairfax in Taso's for was to fight on foot rather Jerufalem,

to-day than on any other day? The orber Princes put on harnels It is to be remembered, that LIGHT

the ancient heroes never fought As footmen ufe

on horseback; nor does their Yet, as if this had been the high- manner of fighting in chariots eft abfardity, he goes on, or feem to require les activity than does he mean that Hector was

on foot.

their particular additions ; he is as valiant as the lion} churlilh as the bear, now as the elephant; a man into whom Nature hath so crowded humours, that his va lour is crusht into folly, his folly sauced with difcretion; there is no man hath a virtue, that he has not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it. He is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair ; he hath the joints of every thing, but every thing fo 'out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.

Cre. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry?

Serv. They say, he yesterday' cop'd HeElor in the battle and struck him down; the disdain and shame whereof hath ever since kept Hector fafting and wak, ing.



Enter Pandarus.

Cre. Who comes here?
Serv. Madam, your uncle Pandarus.

8 tbat bis valour is CRUSHT temper is represented as fo hot into folly, his folly Sauced with that his valour, becomes over. discretion :) Valour crusht into baked, and so is crufted or harfolly is nonsense; but it is of the dened into folly or temerity: yet first editor's making; who seeing the hardness of his folly is fanced crouded go before, concluded that or softened with discretion, and crusht (which is oft indeed the so made palatable.

WARB. consequence) must needs follow. This emendation does not He did not observe that the poet want ingenuity or humour; but here employs a Kitchen-meta- I cannot see so clearly that the phor, which would have led him present reading is nonsense. To to the true reading, His valour is be crushed into folly, is to be con. CRUSTED into folly, his folly fused and mingled with folly, so Sauced with discretion. Thus is as that they make one 'mass toAjax dished up by the poet. The gether, expression is humourous. His


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Cre. Heator's a gallant man.
Serv. As may be in the world, lady.
Pan. What's that? what's that?
Cre. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.

Pan, 'Good morrow,'cousin Cresid; what do you talk of? Good morrow, Alexander How do you, cousin ? when were you at' Ilium ?

Cre. This morning, uncle.

Pan. What were you talking of, when I came ?
Was Hector arm’d and gone, ere you came to Ilium ?
Helen was not up? was The ?

Cre. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up.
Pan. E'en fo; Hector was stirring early.
Cré. That were we talking of, and of his anger.
Pan. Was he angry?
Cre. So he says, here.

Pan. True, he was so; I know the cause too: he'll
Lay about him to-day, I can tell them that ; and there's
Truilus will not come far behind him, let them take
beed of Troilus; I can tell them that too.

Cre. What is he angry too? 9 Good morrow, cousin Crestid; natural for him, so soon as he has I'hat do you talk of? Good mor- given his cousin the good-morJÓW, ALEXANDER ;-- How do row, to pay his civilities too to you, coufen? ] Good morrow, Alex- her attendant. This is purely ander- is added in all the edi- 619, as the grammarians call tions, says Mr. Pipe, very ab- it; and gives us an admirable surdly, Paris not being on the touch of Pandarus's character. Itage. Wonderful acuteness : And why might not Alxarder be But, with submission, this gentle. the name of Crefid's man? Paman's note is much more absurd ;' ris had no patent, I suppose, for for it falls out very unluckily for engroiling it to himself. But the his remark, that though Paris is, , late Editor, perhaps, because we for the generality, in Homer call'd have had dlexander the Great, Alexander;

; yet, in this play, by Pope Alexander, and Alexander ang one of the characters intro- Pepe, would not have so eminent duc'd, heis call'd nothing but Pro a name prostituted to a cominon ris, The truth of the fact is this. valer.

Pandarusis of a busy, impertinent, llium ] Was the palace of
insinuating character; and 'tis Troy.
Vol. VII.



Pan. Who, Troilus ? Troilus is the better man of

the two.

Cre. Oh, Jupiter ! there's no comparison.

Pan. What, not becween Troilus and Heator? do you know a 11-an, if you see him?

Cre Ay, it Fever saw him btfore, and knew him, Pon. Wul, Ify, Troilus is Troilus.

Cre. Then you say, as I say; for, I am fure, he is not Hiflor.

Pan. No, nor Hexor is not Troilus, in some degrees.

Cre. 'Tis just to each of them. He is himself.

Pan. Himself? alas, poor Troilus! I would, he were.

Cre. So he is.
Pan. 'Condition, I had gone bare-foot to India,
Cre. He is not Hector.

Pon. Himself? No, he's not himself. 'Would, he were himself! Well, the Gods are above ; time must friend, or end. Well, Troilus, well, I would, my heart were in her body !_no, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.

Cre. Excuse me.
Pan. He is elder.
Cre. Pardon me, pardon me.

Pan. Th'other's not come to 't; you shall tell me another tale, when th' other's come to 't ; Hezior shall not have his wit this year.

Cre. He shall not need it, if he have his own. Pan. Nor his qualities. Cre. No matter. Pan. Nor his beauty. Crc. 'Twould not become him ; his own's better. Pan. You have no judgment, Niece. Helen herself swore th' other day, that Troilus for a brown favour, for so 'cis, I must confess-Not brown neither Cre. No, but brown.


Pan. 'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
Cre. To say the truth, true and not true.
Pan. She prais’d his complexion above Paris.
Cre. Why, Paris liath colour enough.
Pan. So he has.

Cre. Then Troiles fiould have ton much, if the prais'd him above; his coirplexion is hihet t'ian his, he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too Aaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a

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copper nose.

Pon I swear to you, I think, Helen loves him better than Paris.

Cre. Then she's a merry Greek, indeed.

Pan. Nay, I am sure, she does. She came to him th' other day into the compass-window; and, you know, he has not past three or four hairs on his chin.

Cre. Indeed, a tapster's arithmetick may soon bring his particulars therein to a total.

Pan. Why, he is very young; and yet will he within three pound lift as much as his brother Hector:

Cre. Is he fo young a man, and fo old a lifter?

Pan. But to prove to you that Helen loves him, she came and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin.

Cre. Juno, have mercy! how came it cloven?

Pan. Why, you know, 'tis dimpled. I think, his smiling becomes him better, than any man in all Phrygia.

Cre. Oh, he smiles valiantly.
Pan. Does he not?
Cre. O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.

Pan. Why, go to then-but to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus.

Cre. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove it fo.

Pan. Troilus? why he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg.


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