madmen. Here's Agamemnon,-an honeft fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he hath not fo much brain as ear-wax: And the goodly tranfformation of Jupiter 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, fhould wit larded with malice, and malice And the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull;-the primitive ftatue, and OBLIQUE memorial of cuckolds ;] He calls Menelaus the transformation of Jupiter, that is, as himself explains it, the bull, on account of his borns, which he had as a cuckold. This cuckold he calls the primitive ftatue of cuckolds; i. e. his ftory had made him fo famous, that he tood as the great archetype of his character. But how was he an oblique memorial of cuckolds? can any thing be a more direc memorial of cuckolds, than a cuckold? and fo the foregoing character of his being the primitive ftatue of them plainly implies. To reconcile thefe two contradictory epithets therefore we fhould read: -an OBELISQUE memorial of cuckolds. He is reprefented as one who would remain an eternal monument of his wife's infidelity. And how could this be better done than by calling him an obelifque memorial? of all human edifices the most durable. And the fentence rifes gradually, and properly from a ftatue to an obelifque. To this the editor Mr. Theobald replies, that the bull is called the primitive ftatue: by which he only giveth us to understand, that he knoweth not the difference between the English articles a and the. But by the bull is meant Menelaus; which title Therfites gives him again afterwardsThe cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it-THE BULL bas the game- -But the Oxford editor makes quicker work with the term oblique, and alters it to antique, and fo all the difficulty is evaded. WARBURTON. The author of The Revifal obferves (after having controverted every part of Dr. Warburton's note, and juftified Theobald) that the memorial is called oblique, because it was only indirectly fuch, upon the common fuppofition, that both bulls and "cuckolds were furnished with horns." STEEVENS. May we not rather fuppofe, that Shakspeare, who is fo frequently licentious in his language, meant nothing more by this epithet than borned, the bull's horns being crooked or oblique? MALONZ. forced 9 forced with wit, turn him? 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 a Menelaus,I would confpire against destiny. Afk me not what I would be, if I were not Therfites; for I care not to be the loufe of a lazar, fo I were not Menelaus.- Hey-dey! 'fpirits, and fires! Enter Heltor, Troilus, Ajax, Agamemnon, Ulyffes, Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong, There, where we fee the light. Hell. I trouble you. Ajax. No, not a whit. Uly. Here comes himself to guide you. forced with wit, -] Stuffed with wit. A term of cookery. In this fpeech I do not well understand what is meant by loving quails. JOHNSON. By loving quails the poet may mean loving the company of harlots. A quail is remarkably falacious. Mr. Upton fays that Xenophon, in his memoirs of Socrates, has taken notice of this quality in the bird. A fimilar allufion occurs in The Hollander, a comedy by Glapthorne, 1640: 66 the hot defire of quails, "To yours is modeft appetite." STEEVENS. In old French caille was fynonymous to fille de joie. In the Di&. Comique par Le Roux, under the article caille are these words: "Chaud comme une caille "Caille coiffée-Sobriquet qu'on donne aux femmes." Signifie femme eveille amoureufe." So, in Rabelais :-" Cailles coiffées mignonnent chantans."-which Motteux has thus rendered (probably from the old tranflation) coated quails and laced mutton, waggifhly finging. MALONE. Spirits and fires!] This Therfites fpeaks upon the first fight of the diftant lights. JonSON. Enter Enter Achilles. Acbil. Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all. Agam. 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. Heft. Good night, fweet lord Menelaus. Ther. Sweet draught: Sweet, quoth a! fweet fink, fweet sewer. Achil. Good night, and welcome, both at once, to those That go, or tarry. [Exeunt Agam. and Menel. Achil. Old Neftor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Hector company an hour or two. Die. I cannot, ford; I have important business, The tide whereof is now.-Good night, great Hector. Heat. Give me your hand. Ulyff. Follow his torch, he goes to Calchas' tent; I'll keep you company. Troi. Sweet fir, you honour me. Helt. And fo, good night. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [To Troilus. [Exeunt feverally. Ther. That fame Diomed'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 He will spend his mouth, and promife, like Brabler the bound;-] If a hound gives his mouth, and is not upon the scent of the game, he is by fportsmen called a babler or brabler. The proverb fays, Brabling curs never want fore ears. ANON. it'; it; it is prodigious, there will come fome change; the fun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will rather leave to fee Hector, than not to dog him: 3 they fay, he keeps a Trojan drab, and ufes the traitor Calchas his tent: I'll after.-Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets! SCENE II. Calchas' tent. Enter Diomed. Dio. What are you up here, ho? fpeak. Cal. Who calls? Dio. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where is your daughter? [Exit. Enter Troilus, and Ulyffes, at a distance; after them Therfites. Ulyff. Stand where the torch may not discover us, Enter Creffida. 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. Ulyff. She will fing any man at first fight. Ther. And any man May fing her, if he can take her cliff; fhe's noted. Dio. 3-they fay, he keeps a Trojan drab.-] This character of Diomed is likewife taken from Lidgate. STEEVENS. 4 -her cliff;] That is, her key. Clef, French. JOHNSON. VOL. IX. Clif L . Dio. Will you remember? Cre. Remember? yes. Dio. Nay, but do then; And let your mind be coupled with your words. Ulyff. Lift! Cre. Sweet honey Greek, 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 forfworn.. Cre. In faith, I cannot: What would you have me do? Ther. A juggling 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, sweet Greek. Dio. Good night. Troi. Hold, patience! Ulyff. How now, Trojan? Cre. Diomed, Dio. No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more. Troi. Thy better must. Cre. Hark, one word in your ear. Troi. O plague and madness! Cliff, i. e. a mark in mufick at the beginning of the lines of a fong; and is the indication of the pitch, and befpeaks what kind of voice-as base, tenour, or treble, it is proper for. Sir J. HAWKINS. So, in The Chances, by Beaumont and Fletcher, where Antonio, employing mufical terms, fays, Will none but my C. cliff ferve your turn ?" Again, in The Lover's Melancholy, 1629: -that's a bird "Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes." STEEVENS. Ulyff. |