Surety fecure; but modeft Doubt is called
The beacon of the wife; the tent that searches
To th' bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Since the firft fword was drawn about this question,
Every tithe foul 'mongst many thousand difmes
Hath been as dear as Helen: I mean, of ours.
If we have loft fo many tenths of ours
To guard a thing not ours, not worth to us
(Had it our name) the value of one ten;
What merit's in that reafon which denies
The yielding of her up?
Troi. Fy, fy, my brother:
Weigh you the worth and honour of a King
(So great as our dread father) in a scale
Of common ounces? will you with counters fum
The vaft proportion of his infinite?
And buckle in a waste moft fathomlefs,
With fpans and inches fo diminutive ·
As fears and reasons? fy, for godly fhame! [fons,
Hel. No marvel though you bite fo fharp at rea-
You are fo empty of them. Should not our father
Bear the great fway of his affairs with reasons,
Because your speech hath none that tells him fo?
Troi. You are for dreams and flumbers, brother
priest,
[reasons.
You fur your gloves with reafons.
You know an enemy intends you harm ;
You know a fword employed is perilous;
peace is too much fecurity; the opinion of our being least in › danger. Therefore, as our Author fays in Hamlet;
Be wary then; best fafety lyes in fear.
Velleius Paterculus, speaking of Arminius's treachery, has left us a fentiment that might very well have given rife to our Author's. Hud imprudenter fpeculatus, neminem celerius. opprimi, quàm qui nihil timeret; et frequentiffimum initium effe calamitatis fecuritatem.
And reafon flies the object of all harm.
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
A Grecian and his sword, if he do fet
The very wings of reason to his heels,
And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
Or like a star diforbed !---Nay, if we talk of reason,
Let's fhut our gates, and fleep: manhood and honour
Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat their
thoughts
With this crammed reafon : reafon and refpect
Makes livers pale, and luftyhood deject.
Hect. Brother, fhe is not worth what fhe doth coft The holding.
Troi. What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
Hect. But value dwells not in particular will; It holds its eftimate and dignity
As well wherein 'tis precious of itself,
As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry,
To make the service greater than the God;
And the will doats, that is inclinable
To what infectioufly itself affects,
Without fome image of th' affected merit.
Troi. I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will;
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous fhores
Of Will and Judgment; how may I avoid
(Although my will diftafte what is elected)
The wife I chufe? there can be no evafion
To blench from this, and to ftand firm by honour.
We turn not back the filks upon the merchant,
When we have spoiled them; nor th' remainder
We do not throw in unrespective place, [viands
Because we now are full. It was thought meet
Paris fhould do fome vengeance on the Greeks:
Your breath of full confent bellied his fails;
The feas and winds (old wranglers) took a truce,
And did him fervice: he touched the ports defired;
And for an old aunt, whom the Greeks held captive,
He brought a Grecian Queen, whofe youth and
frefhnefs
Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes ftale the morning. (19)
Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:
Is the worth keeping? why, fhe is a pearl,
Whole price hath launched above a thousand ships,
And turned crowned kings to merchants-
If you'll avouch, 'twas wisdom Paris went,
As you must needs, for you all cry'd, go, go :)
If you'll confefs, he brought home noble prize,
(As you muft needs, for you all clapped your hands,
And cry'd, ineftimable!) why do you now
The iflue of your proper wifdoms rate,
And do a deed that Fortune never did,
Beggar that eflimation which you prized
Richer than fea and land? O theft most base!
That we have stolen what we do fear to keep !
But thieves, unworthy of a thing fo ftolen,
whofe youth and freshness.
Wrinkles Apollo's, and make pale the morning.] This is only Mr Pope's reading; all the other editions have fale, which feems the Poct's antithefis to freshness.
So in his Winter's Tale;
-fo fhall I do
To the free things now reigning, and make Le
The glifting of this prefent.
This old aunt, who is only hinted at by our Poet, is Hefione, the daughter of Laomedon, and fifter of Priam. She was borne away captive to Greece by Hercules, when be facked Troy; and was given to Telamon's bed, by whom she bore Teucer. Spenter mentions her fubduing Telamon to her charms, in his verfion of Virgil's Gnat:
For the cue was ravished of his own bond-maid,
The fair Ixione, captived from Troy.
For here we must read Hefione. The particulars of her ftory are to be found in Hyginus's eighty-ninth fable.
Who in their country did them that difgrace,
We fear to warrant in our native place!
Gaf. [within.] Cry, Trojans, cry!
Pri. What noife? what fhriek is this?
Troi. 'Tis our mad fifter, I do know her voice. Caf. [within.] Cry, Trojans !
Enter CASSANDRA, with her hair about her ears. Caf. Cry, Trojans, cry; lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them with prophetic tears. Het. Peace, fifter, peace.
Caf. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled old, Soft infancy, that nothing can but cry, Add to my clamour! let us pay betimes A moiety of that mafs of moan to come: Cry, Trojans, cry; practise your eyes with tears. Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand: Our fire-brand brother, Paris, burns us all. Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe;
Cry, cry, Troy burns, or elfe let Helen go. [Exit. Het. Now, youthful Troilus, do not thefe highOf Divination in our fifter work
Some touches of remorfe? Or is your blood
So madly hot, that no difcourfe of reafon,
Nor fear of bad fuccefs in a bad caufe,
Can qualify the fame?
Troi. Why, brother Hector,
We may not think the juftnefs of each act
Such and no other than event doth form it;
Nor once deject the courage of our minds,
Becaufe Caffandra's mad; her brain-fick raptures
Cannot diftalte the goodness of a quarrel,
Which hath our feveral honours all engaged
To make it gracious. For my private part,
I am no more touched than all Priam's fons;
VOL. XI.
And, Jove forbid! there should be done amongst us
Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
To fight for and maintain.
Par..Elfe might the world convince of levity
As well my undertakings, as your counfels:
But I atteft the Gods, your full confent
Gave wings to my propenfion, and cut off
All fears attending on fo dire a project.
For what, alas! can these my single arms?
What propugnation is in one man's valour,
To ftand the pufh and enmity of those
This quarrel would excite? yet I protest,
Were I alone to pafs the difficulties,
And had as ample power as I have will,
Paris fhould ne'er retract what he hath done,
Nor faint in the purfuit.
Like one befotted on your fweet delights;
You have the honey ftill, but thefe the gall;
So, to be valiant, is no praise at all.
Par. Sir, I propofe not merely to myself
"The pleafures fuch a beauty brings with it:
But I would have the foil of her fair rape
Wiped off, in honourable keeping her.
What treafon were it to the ranfacked Queen,
Difgrace to your great worths, and fhame to me,
Now to deliver her poffeffion up,
On terms of base compulfion? can it be
That fo degenerate a ftrain as this
Should once fet footing in your generous bosoms? 'There's not the meaneft fpirit on our party,
Without a heart to dare, or fword to draw,
When Helen is defended: none fo noble, Whofe life were ill bestowed, or death unfamed, When Helen is the fubject. Then I fay,
Well may we fight for her whom, we know well, The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
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