thefe two may run mad: but if with too much brain, and too little blood, they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's 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 there his brother, the bull, (the primitive ftatue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds ;) (45) a thrifty fheoing horn in a chain, (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 abufes Menelaus for a stupid cuckold; and with the fame freedom, I apprehend, here he is charging Agamemnon with being a wencher, in faying, he is a lover of quails. But what confonance, may it not be afked, is there between quails and a miftrefs? Rabelais, in his prologue to his fourth book, fpeaks of cailles coiphées mignonnement chantans; which Motteux I find has tranflated coated quails, and laced mutton, waggishly finging.-(Of laced mution I have already spoken in my third note on the Two Gentlemen of Verona) and Cotgrave, in his French Dictionary, seems to have had his eye on this passage, when he explains cailles coiffées, women. Here's a little authority for my fufpicion of Shakespeare's meaning; and I'll throw in a teftimony or two from a contemporary poet with him, by whom quail is metaphorically ufed for a girl of the game. Ford, in his Love's Sacrifice, brings in a debauchee thus muttering against a superannuated miftrefs. "By this light I have toiled more with this carrion hen, than with ten quails fcarce grown into their first feathers." So we find Mrs Urfula, in Ben Johnson's Bartholomew Fair, complaining that he had no young women for the enter tainment of her customers. "Here will be Zekiel Edgworth, and three or four gallants with him at night, and I ha' neither plover nor qual for them; perfuade this, between you two, to become a bird o' the game, while I work the velvet woman within, as you call her." (45) And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there his brother, the ull, the primitive statue and oblique memorial of cuckolds;} I understand this paffage thus. Firft, he alludes to Jupiter having transformed himself into a bull to gain the love of Europa; and then he calls Menelaus a bull, as being a cuck hanging at his brother's leg. To what form but: that he is, thould wit larded with malice, and ma-.. lice forced with wit, turn him to? to an afs were nothing, he is both afs and ox; to an ox were no-. thing, he is both ox and ass; 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 De-. ftiny. Afk me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus Hey-day, fpirits and fires! Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and DIOMEDE, with Lights. Aga. We go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. No, yonder 'tis; there, where we fee the light. ald; and then characterizes the bull, as the primitive ftatue 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 called the Moreirap; Marry, how? tropically. Mr Warburton differs from me in the con-. ftruction of this place; he thinks Menelaus is called the bull, and that he is likewife called the primitive ftatue, &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 ftatue, and ohelifque memorial of cuckolds. ie." He is reprefented (fays my friend) as one that would remain an eternal monument of cuckoldom never to be effaced; and how could this be better reprefented than by. calling him an obelifque memoria!? For of all human monumental edifices the obeliique is the most durable The Egyptians, 'tis well known, ufed it to record their arts and hiftories. upon."--I could not in justice stifle fo ingenious a conjecture, though I have not difturbed the text; and fubmit the paffage, in prefent, to the determination of the public judge ment. Heft. I trouble you. Ajax. No, not a whit. Enter ACHILLES. Ulf. Here comes himself to guide you. Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, Princes all, fga. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night. Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. Heft. Thanks, and good night, to the Greeks' general. Men. Good-night, my Lord. Het, Good-night, fweet Lord Menelaus. Ther. Sweet draught-fweet, quoth a----fweet fink, fweet fewer. Achil. Good-night and welcome both at once, That go or tarry. Aga. Good-night. [to thofe Achil. Old Neftor tarries, and you too, Diomede, Keep Hector company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, Lord, I have important business, The tide whereof is now; good-night, great Hector. Het. Give me your hand. Ulyf. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent: I'll keep you company. Troi. Sweet Sir, you honour me. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [To Troilus. [Exeunt. Ther. That fame Diomede's a falfe-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave: I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a ferpent when he hiffes: he will spend his mouth and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, aftronomers foretel it, that it is prodigious, there will come fome change the fun borrows of the moon when Dio mede keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him: they fay he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas his tent. I'll after-Nothing but letchery; all incontinent varlets. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Calchas's Tent. Enter DIOMEDE. Dio. What, are you up here, ho? fpeak. Dio. Diomede; Calchas, I think; where's your daughter? Cal. She comes to you. Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, after them THERSITES. Ulyf. Stand where the torch may not discover us. Enter CRESSID. Troi. Creffid come forth to him? Dio. How now, my charge? Cre. Now, my fweet guardian; hark, a word with you. Troi. Yea, fo familiar? [Whispers. Ulf. She will fing to any man at first fight. 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 fhould fhe remember? Ulyf. Lift. Cre. Sweet honey Greck, tempt me no more to folly. Ther. Roguery Dio. Nay, then, ------ Cre. I'll tell you what. Dio. Pho! pho! come, tell a pin, you are a forfwornCre. 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 bestow 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. Cre. Hark, one word in your ear. Ulyf. You are moved, Prince; let us depart, I pray The time right deadly: I befeech you, go. Ulyf. Good my Lord, go off: You fly to great distraction: come, my Lord. Ulyf. You have not patience: come. [you, Troi. I pray you, ftay; by hell, and by hell's tor I will not fpeak a word. Dio. And fo, good-night. Cre. Nay, but you part in anger? [ments, Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O withered truth! Ulyf. Why, how now, Lord? Troi. By Jove, I will be patient. Cre. Guardian-why, Greek-- Die. Pho, pho, adieu! you palter. |