C

ACTI.

SCENE, the Palace in Troy.

Enter Pandarus and Troilus.

TROILUS.

ALL here my varlet; I'll unarm again. (3)
Why should I war without the walls of Troy,
That find fuch cruel battle here within?
Each Trojan, that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none.

Pan. Will this geer ne'er be mended?
Troi. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their

strength,

Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant.

(5)

-I'll unarm again.

But

Why should I war without the Walls of Troy, That find fuch cruel Battle here within ?] I won't venture to affirm, that this Passage is founded on Anacreon, but there is a mighty Confonance both of Thought and Expression in both Poets; particularly, in the Close of the Sentence.

Μάτιω δ' ἔχο βοείην

Τὶ δὲ βαλώμεθ ̓ ἔξω,
Μάχος ἔσω μ' ἐχύσης

A 4

Tis

But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than fleep, fonder than ignorance;
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy.

Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part, I'll not meddle nor make any farther. He, that will have a cake out of the wheat, muft needs tarry the grinding.bras

Troi. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the

boulting.

Troi. Have I not tarried?

Pan. Ay, the boulting; but you must tarry the

leav'ning.

Troi. Still have I tarried.

Pan. Ay, to the leav'ning: but here's yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must

'Tis in vain that I have a Shield : for wherefore should I wear that outward Defence, when the Battle rages all within me? I hope, my Readers will forgive me, if I take Notice on this Occafion that the Learned Tanaquil Faber quite mistook Anacreon's Sense in this Line, Τὶ δὲ βαλώμεθ ̓ ἔξω, - He has render'd it; Quid enim extrà, aut foràs, tela mittamus, cum intus pugna fit? This is absolutely foreign from the Poet's Meaning. Madam Dacier seems to have understood it in her French Version, but is repugnant to herself, when she gives it us in Latin. C'est donc en vain que j'ay un bouclier, car à quoi fert de se défendre au dehors, lorsque l'ennemi eft au dedans? - I am surpriz'd, after so just a Tranflation as to the Meaning, that she could fubjoin this Remark. Les Interpretes Latins n'ont pas bien entendu ce vers qu'ils traduifent, Nàm cur petamur extrà; & il falloit traduire tout au contraire, nam cur petamus extra. Petere hoftem, is, to attack an Enemy; which is, not Anacreon's Meaning. But Monf. De la Foffe has genteely animadverted upon this Lady's Error. Anacreon ne fongeoit qu'au se défendre, & non pas à offenser. Ainsi petamus, qui est une Action offensive, n'ejioit pas si jufte que petamur.

In my Opinion, the Passage should be thus render'd;

Fruftra gero Clypeum;

Quid enim [illum] extrinfecus objiciam,

200 Cum Pugna intus omninò ardeat?

The Tranflators do not seem to have remember'd, that βάλλομαι (as its Compounds, αμφιβάλλομαι, ἐπιβάλλομαι, περιβάλλομαι) may fometimes fignify actively, induo, injicio, impong. Authorities are so obvious, that it is unnecessary to alledge any.

3

Hug yu??

stay

In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st, she is fair;
Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart

Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gate, her voice;
Handlest in thy discourse-O that! her hand!
(In whose comparison, all whites are ink
Writing their own reproach) to whose soft seizure
The cignet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman. This thou tell'st me;
(As, true thou tell'st me ;) when I say, I love her :
But saying thus, instead of oil and balm,

Thou lay'st, in every gash that love hath given me,
The knife that made it.

Pan. I speak no more than truth.

Troi. Thou dost not speak so much.

Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is, if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the mends in her own hands.

Troi. Good Pandarus; how now, Pandarus?

Pan. I have had my labour for my travel, ill thought on of her, and ill thought on of you: gone between and between, but small thanks for my labour.

Troi. What art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me? Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore she's not fo fair as Helen; an fhe were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday, as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not, an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one

to me.

Troi. Say I, she is not fair ?

Pan. I do not care whether you do, or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father: let her to the Greeks, and fo I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more i'th' matter.

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me, I will leave all

as I found it, and there's an end.

[Exit Pandarus.

[Sound Alarum.

Troi. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude

founds!

Fools on both fides. Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this Argument,
It is too starv'd a subject for my fword:
But Pandarus-O Gods! how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid, but by Pandar;
And he's as teachy to be woo'd to wooe,
As she is stubborn-chaft against all fute.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we:
Her bed is India, there she lyes, a pearl;
Between our Ilium, and where she resides,
Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood;
Our felf the merchant, and this failing Pandar,
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.

[Alarum.]

Enter Æneas.

Æne. How now Prince Troilus? wherefore not i'th'

field?

Troi. Because not there; this woman's answer forts,

For womanish it is to be from thence:

What news, Æneas, from the field to day ?

Æne. That Paris is returned home, and hurt.

Troi. By whom, Æneas?

Æne. Troilus, by Menelaus.

Troi. Let Paris bleed, 'tis but a scar to scorn;

Paris is gor'd with Menelaus' horn.

[Alarum,

Æne. Hark, what good sport is out of town to day?

Troi. Better at home, if would I might, were may

Ane. In all swift haste.

But to the sport abroad

are you bound thither?

[Exeunt.

Troi. Come, go we then together.

SCENE