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Agamemnon, an honeft fellow enough, and one that loves quails, (44) but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax ; and the goodly transformation of Jupiter (45) there his brother, the bull, (the primitive ftatue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds;) a thrifty fhooing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg; to what form, but that he

is,

(44) And one that loves Quails,] This I take to be an obfcure Paffage, not very commonly understood, and therefore may deferve a Note of Explanation. Therfites is every where fcurrilous, and fcandalous in his Obfervations upon the Greeks. He abuses Menelaus for a ftupid Cuckold; and with the fame Freedom, I apprehend, here he is charging Agamemnon with being a Wencher; in saying, he is a Lover of Quails. But what Confonance, may it not be ask'd, is there, betwixt Quails, and a Miftrefs? Rabelais, in the Prologue to his 4th Book, ipeaks of Cailles coiphées mignonnement chantans; which Motteux, I find, has tranflated, Coated Quails, and laced Mutton, waggifbly finging. (Of laced Mutton I have already spoken in my 3d Note on the Two Gent. of Verona :) And Cotgrave, in his French Dictionary, feems to have had his Eye on this Paffage, when he explaines Cailles coiffées, Women. Here's a little Authority for my Sufpicion of Shakespeare's Meaning: and I'll throw in a Teftimony or Two from a Contemporary Poet with him, by whom Quail is metaphorically used for a Girl of the Game. Ford, in his Love's Sacrifice, brings in a Debauchée thus muttering against a fuperannuated Mistress, By this Light; I have toil'd more with this carrion Hen, than with ten "Quails fearce grown into their first Feathers."

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So we find Mrs. Urfula, in B. Fonfon's Bartholomew Fair, complaining that She had no young Women for the Entertainment of her Cuftomers. "Here will be Zekiel Edgworth, and three or four Gallants with him at Night, and I ha' neither Plover nor Quails for them: perfwade This, be"tween you Two, to become a Bird o' the Game, while I work the Velvet "Woman within, as You call her.

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(45) And the goodly Transformation of Jupiter there his brother, the Bull, the primitive Statue and oblique Memorial of Cuckolds.] I understand this Paffage thus. First, he alludes to Jupiter having transform'd himself into a Bull to gain the Love of Europa; and then he calls Menelaus a Bull, as being a Cuckold; and then characterizes the Bull, as the primitive Statue and oblique Memorial of Cuckolds: i. e. A Cuckold is faid to have Horns ; a Bull has Horns; fo, ftands for a Cuckold obliquely; that is, typically, emblematically: as our Poet in Hamlet fays, the Play is call'd the Moufetrap: Marry, how? tropically. Mr. Warburton differs from me in the Conftruction of this Place; he thinks, Menelaus is call'd the Bull, and that he is likewife cali'd the primitive Statue, &c. Then he objects, that primitive and oblique are contradictory Epithets, and cannot be applied to the fame Thing: He therefore conjectures, the Poet wrote, the primitive Statue, and Obelisque memorial of Cuckolds; i. e. He is reprefented, fays my Friend, as One that would remaine an "eternal

is, fhould wit larded with malice, and malice forced with wit, turn him to? to an afs were nothing, he is both afs and ox; to an ox were nothing, he is both ox and afs; to be a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care but to be Menelaus, I would confpire against Destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not, to be the lowfe of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus.

Hey-day, fpirits and fires!

Enter Hector, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyfies, Neftor, and Diomede, with lights.

Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong.

Ajax. No, yonder 'tis; there, where we fee the light. Helt. I trouble you.

Ajax. No, not a whit.

Enter Achilles.

Ulyf. Here comes himself to guide you.

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all. Aga. So, now fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night. Ajax commands the Guard to tend on you.

Helt. Thanks and good night to the Greeks' General. Men. Good night, my lord.

Helt. Good night, fweet lord Menelaus.

Ther. Sweet draught-fweet, quoth afweet fink, fweet fewer.

Achil. Good night, and welcome, both at once, to Thofe That go or tarry.

Aga. Good night.

Achil. Old Neftor tarries, and you too, Diomede, Keep Hector company an hour or two.

"eternal Monument of Cuckoldom never to be effaced: And how could "this be better reprefented than by calling him an Obelifque memorial? "For of all human monumental Edifices the Obelifque is the most durable. "The Egyptians, 'tis well known, used it to record their Arts and Hifto"ries upon."—I could not in Juftice ftifle fo ingenious a Conjecture, tho I have not difturb'd the Text; and fubmit the Paffage, in prefent, to the Determination of the publick Judgment.

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Dio.

Dio. I cannot, lord, I have important business, The tide whereof is now; good night, great Hector. Helt. Give me your hand.

Ulf. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' Tent: I'll keep you company.

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Troi. Sweet Sir, you honour me.

Hect. And fo, good night.

Achil. Come, come, enter my Tent.

[To Troilus.

[Exeunte Ther. That fame Diomede's a falfe-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave: I will no more truft him when he leers, than I will a ferpent when he hiffes: he will spend his mouth and promife, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, aftronomers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come fome change: the Sun borrows of the Moon, when Diomede keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him: they fay, he keeps a Trojan drab, and ufes the traitor Calchas his Tent. I'll Nothing but letchery; all incontinent varlets.

after

Dio.

SCENE changes to Calchas's Tent.

W

Enter Diomede.

HAT are you up here, ho? fpeak.
Cal. Who calls?

[Exeunt.

Dio. Diomede; Calchas, I think; where's your daughCal. She comes to you.

Enter Troilus and Ulyffes, after them Therfites.

Ulyf. Stand where the torch may not difcover us.

Enter Creffid.

Troi. Crefid come forth to him?

Dio. How now, my Charge?

pi

[ter?

Cre. Now, my fweet guardian; hark, a word with

you.

Troi. Yea, fo familiar?

Uly. She will fing to any man at first fight.

[Whispers.

Ther.

Ther. And any man may fing to her, if he can take her

cliff. She's noted.

Dio. Will you remember?

Cre. Remember? yes.

Dio. Nay, but do then; and let your mind be coupled with your words.

Troi. What should. fhe remember?

Ulys. Lift.

Cre. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery

Dio. Nay, then,

Cre. I'll tell you what.

Dio. Fo, fo, come tell a pin, you are a forfworn Cre. In faith, I can't: what would you have me do? Ther. A jugling trick, to be fecretly open.

Dio. What did you fwear you would beftow on me? Cre. I pr'ythee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, fweet Greek.

Dio. Good night.

Troi, Hold, patience

Ulyf. How now, Trojan?

Cre. Diomede,

Dio. No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more.

Troi. Thy Better muft.

Cre. Hark, one word in your ear.

Troi. O plague and madness!

Ulyf. You are mov'd, Prince; let us depart, I pray you, Left your displeasure fhould enlarge it felf

To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;

The time right deadly: I befeech you, go.
Troi. Behold, I pray you

Ulys. Good my lord, go off:

You fly to great diftraction: come, my lord.

Troi. I pr'ythee, stay.

Uly. You have not patience; come.

Troi. I pray you, stay; by hell, and by hell's torments.

I will not speak a word.

Dio. And fo, good night.

Cre. Nay, but you part in anger?

Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth!

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Ulyf

Ulyf. Why, how now, lord?
Trot. By Jove, I will be patient.
Cre. Guardian-why, Greek
Dio. Fo, fo, adieu, you palter.

Cre. In faith, I do not: come hither once again.
Ulyf. You shake, my lord, at fomething; will you go?
You will break out.

Troi. She ftroaks his cheek.

Uly. Come, come.

Troi. Nay, ftay; by Jove, I will not speak a word.
There is between my will and all offences

A guard of patience: ftay a little while.
Ther. How the devil luxury with his fat

rump and

tato finger tickles thefe together! fry, letchery, fry!
Dio. But will you then?

Cre. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.
Dio. Give me fome token for the Surety of it.
Cre. I'll fetch you one.

Uly. You have fworn patience.

Troi. Fear me not, fweet lord,

I will not be my felf, nor have cognition

Of what I feel: I am all patience.

Re-Enter Creffida.

Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now.
Cre. Here, Diomede, keep this fleeve.
Troi. O beauty! where's thy faith?

Ulyf. My lord.

Troi. I will be patient, outwardly I will.

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[Exit.

Cre. You look upon that fleeve; behold it well :He lov'd me:-O falfe wench !-Give't me again.

Dio. Whofe was't?

Cre. It is no matter, now I have't again.

I will not meet with you to morrow night:
I pr'ythee, Diomede, vifit me no more.

Ther. Now the fharpens: well faid, whetstone.
Dio. I fhall have it.

Cre. What, this?

Dio. Ay, that.

Cre. O, all ye

Gods! O pretty, pretty pledge;

Thy

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