Cre. O, you shall be expos'd, my lord, to dangers As infinite, as imminent: but, I'll be true. Troi. And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this fleeve. Cre. And you this glove. When fhall I fee you? To give thee nightly visitation. But yet be true. Cre. O heav'ns! be true, again? Troi. Hear, why I speak it, love: The Grecian youths are full of fubtle qualities, (Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous fin) Cre. O heav'ns, you love me not! Troi. Die I a villain then! In this, I do not call your faith in question Nor heel the high Lavolt; nor fweeten talk ; prompt and But I can tell, that in each grace of these pregnant. There lurks a ftill and dumb-difcourfive Devil, Troi. No. But fomething may be done, that we will not: And bring Eneas and the Grecian with you: Troi. Who I? alas, it is my Vice, my fault: Enter Æneas, Paris, and Diomedes. At the Port (lord) I'll give her to thy hand, Diom. Lady Crefid, So please you, fave the thanks this Prince expects : You fhall be miftrefs, and command him wholly. (35) To fhame the Seal of my Petition tow'rds thee By praifing ber] There is great Room for hefitating at this Expreffion. To shame the Seal of a Petition, carries no fenfible Idea that I can find out. The Change of a fingle Letter makes Troilus's Complaint apt and reasonable; and the Senfe is this: "Grecian, you use me difcourteoufly; "you fee, I am a paffionate Lover, by my Petition to you; and there"fore you fhould not fhame the Zeal of it, by promifing to do, what I "require of you, for the Sake of her Beauty: when, if you had good "Manners, or a Sense of a Lover's Delicacy, you would have promised "to do it in Compassion to his Pangs and Sufferings." Mr. Warburton. Diom. Oh, be not mov'd, Prince Troilus. Troi. Come, to the Port--I'll tell thee, Diomede, Par. Hark, Hector's trumpet! [Sound trumpet. Ene. How have we spent this morning? The Prince must think me tardy and remifs, That fwore to ride before him in the field. Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault. Come, come, to field with him. Diom. Let us make ready ftrait. Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity Let us addrefs to tend on Hector's heels: The Glory of our Troy doth this day lye [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Grecian Camp. Enter Ajax armed, Agamemnon, Achilles, Patroclus, Menelaus, Ulyffes, Neftor, &c. Aga. H ERE art thou in appointment fresh and fair, (36) Anticipating time with ftarting courage. Give with thy Trumpet a loud note to Troy, (36) Here art thou in Appointment free and fair, Anticipating Time. With ftarting Courage, Give with thy Trumpet, &c.] I have alter'd the Pointing of this Paffage for this Reason: The Poet feems to mean, that Ajax fhew'd his starting Courage in coming into the Field before the Challenger. May pierce the head of the great Combatant, Ajax. Trumpet, there's my purfe; Now crack thy lungs, and fplit thy brazen pipe: Come, ftretch thy cheft, and let thy eyes fpout blood Uly. No trumpet answers. Aga. Is not yond' Diomede with Calchas' daughter? In afpiration lifts him from the earth. Enter Diomede, with Creffida. Aga. Is this the lady Cressida? Dio. Ev'n fhe. Aga. Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. (37) Neft. Our General doth falute you with a kiss. Uly. Yet is the kindness but particular; Twere better, fhe were kifs'd in general. Neft. And very courtly counfel: I'll begin. So much for Neftor. Achil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady: Achilles bids you welcome. Men. I had good argument for kiffing once. Patr. But that's no arguiment for kiffing now: (37) Moft dearly welcome to the Greeks, fweet Lady.] From this Line Mr. Pope has thought fit to degrade, or throw out of the Text, the Quantity of a whole Page. But is it not very abfurd, that Diomede fhould bring Creffid on, where fo many Princes are prefent, and preparing to give her a Welcome, and then lead her off abruptly, fo foon as ever Agamemnon has faid a fingle Line to her? An ideò tantùm venerat, ut exiret? as Martial fays of Cato's coming into the Theatre. But is it not ftill more abfurd for Creffid to be led off without uttering one fingle Syllable, and for Neftor and Ulyffes to obferve that fhe is a Woman of quick Senfe, and glib of Tongue, as if fhe had faid feveral witty Things? Methinks, Neftor's Character of her Wit, from her faying Nothing, is as extraordinary as the two Kings of Brentford hearing the Whisper, tho' they are not prefent, in the REHEARSAL. For For thus pop'd Paris in his hardiment, Uly. O deadly gall, and theme of all our fcorns, Men. O, this is trim. Patr. Paris and I kifs evermore for him. Men, I'll have my kifs, Sir: lady, by your leave,Cre. In kiffing do you render or receive? Patr. Both take and give. Cre. I'll make my match to live, The kiss you take is better than you give; Men. I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one. Cre. No, I'll be sworn. Ulys. It were no match, your nail against his horn: May I, fweet lady, beg a kiss of you? Cre. You may. Uly. I do defire it. Cre. Why, beg then. Ulyf. Why then, for Venus fake, give me a kjfs, Cre. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. Dio. Lady, a word- -I'll bring you to your Father, Ulyf. Fie, fie upon her! [Diomede leads out Creffida. There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip: Το |