Tho' lefs than yours in paft, muft o'er-top yours.
For time is like a fashionable host,

That flightly fhakes his parting gueft by the hand;
But with his arms out-ftretch'd, as he would fly,
Grafps in the comer. Welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out fighing. O, let not virtue feek
Remuneration for the thing it was; 2 for beauty, wit,
High birth, vigour of bone, defert in fervice,
Love, friendship, charity, are fubjects all
To envious and calumniating time.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin
That all, with one confent, praise new-born gawds,
Tho' they are made and moulded of things paft;
3 And fhew to duft, that is a little gilt,

More laud than gilt o'er-dufted.

The prefent eye praises the present object:
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion fooner catch the eye,

2 The modern editors read,

For beauty, wit, high birth, defert in fervice, &c. I do not deny but the changes produce a more easy lapfe of numbers, but they do not exhibit the work of Shakespeare. JOHNSON.

3 And go to duft, that is a little gilt,

More laud than gilt o'er-dufted.] In this mangled condition do we find this truly fine obfervation tranfmitted in the old folios. Mr. Pope faw it was corrupt, and therefore, as I prefume, threw it out of the text; because he would not indulge bis private fenfe in attempting to make fenfe of it. I owe the foundation of the amendment, which I have given to the text, to the fagacity of the ingenious Dr. Thirlby. I read, And give to duft, that is a little gilt,

More laud than they will give to gold o'er-dufted.

THEOBALD.

This emendation has been received by the fucceeding editors, but recedes too far from the copy. There is no other corruption than such as Shakespeare's incorrectness often refembles. He has omitted the article to in the second line: he should have written,

More laud than to gilt o'er-dufted. JOHNSON.
F 3

Than

Than what not firs. The cry went once on thee,
And ftill it might, and yet it may again,
If thou wouldit not entomb thyfelf alive,
And cafe thy reputation in thy tent;

Whofe glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
+ Made emulous miffions 'mongft the gods themfelves,
And drave great Mars to faction.

Ackil. Of this my privacy

I have ftrong reafons.

Ulyff. 'Gainft your privacy

The reafons are more potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.

Achil. Ha! known!

Ul. Is that a wonder?

The providence, that's in a watchful state, 5 Knows almoít every grain of Pluto's gold; Finds bottom in the uncomprehenfive deeps; "Keeps place with thought; and almoft, like the gods, Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. There is a mystery (7 with which relation Durft never meddle) in the foul of state;

4 Made emulous miffions] Miffions, for divifions, i. e. goings out, on one fide and the other. WARBURTON.

The meaning of million feems to be dispatches of the gods from heaven about mortal bufinefs, fuch as often happened at the fiege of Troy. JOHNSON.

5 Knows almoft, &c.] For this elegant line the quarto has only, Knows almost every thing. JOHNSON.

I think we should read, of Plutus' gold. So Beaumont and Fletcher's Philafter, act 4.

6

""Tis not the wealth of Plutus, nor the gold
"Lock'd in the heart of earth"-

STEEVENS.

Keeps place with thought;] i. e. there is in the providence of a flate, as in the providence of the universe, a kind of ubiquity. The expreffion is exquifitely fine: yet the Oxford editor alters it to keep's pace, and fo dellsøys all its beauty.

7

(with which relation

WARBURTON.

Durft never meddle)] There is a fecret adminiftration of anairs, which no history was ever able to discover. JOHNS.

Which hath an operation more divine,
Than breath, or pen, can give expreffure to.
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours, as yours, my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much,
To throw down Hector, than Polyxena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame fhall in our islands found her trump;
And all the Greekish girls fhall tripping fing,
Great Hector's fifter did Achilles win;
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.
Farewell, my lord. I, as your lover, speak;
The fool flides o'er the ice that you fhould break.

[Exit. Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you: A woman, impudent and mannish grown, Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man In time of action-I ftand condemn'd for this; They think my little ftomach to the war, And your great love to me, reftrains you thus. Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid Shall from your neck unloofe his amorous fold, And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane, Be fhook to air.

Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector?

Patr. Ay, and, perhaps, receive much honour by

him.

Achil. I fee my reputation is at stake;

My fame is fhrewdly gor'd.

Patr. O then beware;

Those wounds heal ill that men do give themfelves. 9 Omiffion to do what is neceffary

to air.] So the quarto. The folio,

— to airy air. JOHNSON.

Omiffion to do, &c.] By neglecting our duty we commiffion or enable that danger of dishonour, which could not reach us before, to lay hold upon us. JOHNSON.

Seals a commiffion to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, fubtly taints
Even then, when we fit idly in the fun.

Achil. Go call Therfites hither, fweet Patroclus:
I'll fend the fool to Ajax, and defire him
To invite the Trojan lords, after the combat,
To fee us here unarm'd. I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am fick withal,

To fee great Hector in the weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his vifage,

Enter Therfites.

Even to my full of view.A labour fav'd!
Ther. A wonder!

Achil. What?

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, afking for himfelf.

Achil. How fo?

Ther. He must fight fingly to-morrow with Hector, and is fo prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling, that he raves in faying nothing.

Achil. How can that be?

Ther. Why, he talks up and down like a peacock, a ftride, and a ftand: ruminates like an hoftefs that hath no arithmetic but her brain to fet down her reckoning bites his lip with a politic regard, as who fhould fay, there were wit in his head, an 'twould out; and fo there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not fhew without knocking. The man's undone for ever: for if Hector break not his neck i' the combat, he'll break it himself in vainglory. He knows not me: I faid, Good-morrow, Ajax, and he replies, Thanks, Agamemnon. What think you of this man, that takes ine for the general? He's grown a very land-fifh, language-lefs, a moniter.

1 — with a folitic regard, — With a fly look. JOHNS.

A plague

A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both fides, like a leather jerkin.

Achil. Thou must be my embaffador to him, Therfites.

Ther. Who, I?-why, he'll anfwer no body; he profeffes not answering; fpeaking is for beggars. He wears his tongue in his arms. I will put on his prefence; let Patroclus make his demands to me, you hall fee the pageant of Ajax.

Achil. To him, Patroclus. Tell him, I humbly defire the valiant Ajax to invite the moft valorous Hector to come unarm'd to my tent; and to procure fafe conduct for his perfon of the magnanimous and most illuftrious, fix-or-feven-times-honour'd, captaingeneral, of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, &c. Do this.

Patr. Jove blefs great Ajax!

Ther. Hum!

Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles.

Ther. Ha!

Patr. Who moft humbly defires you to invite Hector to his tent.

Ther. Hum!.

Patr. And to procure fafe conduct from Aga

memnon.

Ther. Agamemnon!

Patr. Ay, my lord.

Ther. Ha!

Patr. What fay you to't?

Ther. God be wi' you, with all my heart.

Patr. Your answer, Sir.

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will go one way or other; howfoever, he fhall pay for me ere he has me.

Patr. Your anfwer, Sir.

Ther. Fare ye well, with all my heart.

Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he? Ther. No, but he's out o'tune thus. What mufick