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make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of our selves we publish them.
Count. What does this knave here? get you gone, Grrah : the complaints, I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flowness that I do not, for, I know, you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.
Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a
I have your
Count. Well, Sir.
Clo. No, Madam; 'tis not fo well that I am poor,
Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
Cle. In Isbel's case, and mine own; fervice is no heritage, and, I think, I shall never have the blessing of God, 'till I have iffue o' my body; for they fay, bearns are blessings.
Count. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go, that the devil drives.
Count. Is this all your worship’s reason?
Clo. Faith, Madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are.
Count. May the world know them?
The Worthiness of Praise diftains his Worth,
If He, that's prais’d, himself bring the Praife forth.
That must be paid Us from another's Tongue.
you and all flesh and blood are ; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent.
Count. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.
Clo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's sake.
Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
Clo. Y'are shallow, Madam, in great friends ; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of; he, that eares my land, spares my team, and gives me leave to inne the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my drudge; he, that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he, that cherisheth my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend : ergo, he, that kisses my wife, is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan, and old Poyfam the papist, howsoe'er their hearts are sever'd in religion, their heads are both one ; they may joul horns together, like any deer i'th' herd.
Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave ?
Clo. A prophet, I, Madam; and I speak the truth the next way; “ For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true
66 shall find; 6. Your marriage comes by destiny, your cuckow sings
“ by kind. Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'll talk with you more
Stew. May it please you, Madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to speak.
Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her, Helen I mean. Clo. “'Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, (6)
(6) Was this fair Face the Cause, quoth She,
Wly the Grecians facked Troy?
6 Why the Grecians facked Troy?
in alternate Rhyme, and as a Rhyme is here wanting to She in the ift Verse; 'tis evident, the 3d Line is wanting. The Old Folio's give Us Part of it ; but how to supply the loft Part, was the Question. Mr. Rowe has given us the Fragment honestly, as he found it : but Mr. Pope, rather than to seem founder'd, has sunk it upon Us. - I communicated to my ingenious Friend Mr. Warburton how I found the Passage in the old Books,
[Fond done, done, fond,
Was this King Priam's Foy?] And from Him
I received that Supplement, which I have given to the Text, and the following Justification of it." I will first proceed to “ juftify my Sense and Emendation,and then account for the Corruption. “ In the first place, 'tis plain, the last Line. should not have been read “ with an Interrogation: For was Helen King Priam's Joy? No, surely, si she was not. Who then ? Why, the Historians tell us it was Paris, « who was his Favourite Son, And how natural was it, when this She
(whoever She was,) had said, Was this the Face that ruin'd Troy? to “ fall into a moral Reflection, and say, What a fond Deed was this !
Priam's Misery, proceeded from him, that was his only Joy. This is “exactly agreeable to the Simplicity of those antient Songs : as the “ Phrase, For Paris he is to their Mode of Locution. So far we have “ the Genius of the Ballad, History, and the Context, to make it pro“ bable. An Observation upon the enfuing Stanza may make it clear
I will only subjoin, in Confirmation of my friend's ingenious Conjecture, that, in The Maid in the Mill by Beaumont and Fletcher, I find a scrap of another old Ballad upon the same Subject, most nearly correfponding with ours.
And here fair Paris comes,
King Priam's only Joy.
And gave this sentence then;
There's yet One good in Ten.] This 2d Stanza is a Joke turn’d upon the Women: a Confession that there was one good in Ten. Upon which the Countess says,
o What! “ One good in ten! You corrupt the Song, Sirrah”.. This thews, that the Sense of the Song was, one bad only in ten; or, nine good in ten; B b 2
Count. What, one good in ten ? You corrupt the song, firrah.
Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam, which is a purifying o'th' song: would, God would serve the world so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, if I were the Parson; one in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but every blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out, ere he pluck one.
Count. You'll be gone, Sir knave, and do as I com
Clo. That man that should be at a woman's command, and yet no hurt done! tho' honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplis of humility over the black gown of a big heart: I am going, forsooth, the business is for Helen to come hither.
[Exit. Count. Well, now.
Stew. I know, Madam, you love your gentlewoman intirely.
Count. Faith, I do; her father bequeath'd her to me; and she herself, without other advantages, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds ; there is more owing her, than is paid ; and more thall be paid her, than she'll demand. and this clears up the Mystery. The ad Stanza was certainly thus in the Old Ballad.
With that She hghed as She stood,
And gave this Sentence then;
There's but one bad in ten. A visible Continuation of the Thought, as amended, in the latter Part of the first Stanza: and it relates to the ten Sons of Prian, who all behaved themselves well except this Paris. Bat why Priam's ten Sons, may it not be ask'd, when universal Tradition has given him fifty? To This I reply, that, at the time of this unfortunate Part of his Reign, he had but ten. To these this Songter alludes. They were, Agatbon, Antiphon, Deiphobus, Dius, Hector, Helenus, Hippothaus, Pammon, Paris and Polites. It seems particularly humourous in the Clown, fand fuiting with the Licence of his Character, as a Jefter ;) all at once to deprave the Text of the Ballad, and turn it to a Sarcasm upon the Women.
Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her, than, I think, she wilh'd me; alone she was, and did communicate to her self her own words to her own cars; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she lovid your son; Fortune, she said, was no Goddess, (8) that had put such difference betwixt their two eitates ; Love, no God, that would not extend his might, only where qualities were level; Diana no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor Knight to be surpriz'd without rescue in the first assault, or ransom afterward.. This she deliver'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow, that e'er I heard a virgin exclaim in; which I held it my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; fithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know it.
Count. You have discharg'd this honestly, keep it to your self; many likelihoods inform’d me of this before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that I could neither believe nor misdoubt; pray you,
leave me; stall this in your bosom, and I thank you for your honest care; I will speak with you further anon.
[Exit Steward. (8) Fortune, she said, was no Goddess, &c. Love, no God, &c. complain'd against the Queen of Virgins, &c.] This Paffage stands thus in the old Copies. Love, no God, that
would not extend his Might only where Qualities were level, Queen of Virgins, that would suffer her poor Knight, &c. Tis evident to every sensible Reader that something must have slip'd out here, by which the Meaning of the Context is render'd defective. There are no Traces for the Words, [complain'd against the] which I take to have been first conjecturally supply'd by Mr. Rowe. But the form of the Sentence is intirely alter'd by their Insertion ; and they, at best, make but a Botch. 'The Steward is speaking in the very Words he overheard of the Young Lady; Fortune was no Goddess, the said, for one reason ; Love no God, for another ; — what could She then more naturally subjoin, than as I have amended in the Text ?
Diana no Queen of Virgins, that would suffer ber poor Knight to be surpriz'd without Rescue, &c. For in poetical History Diana was as well known to preside over Chafity, as Cupid over Love, or Fortune over the Change or Regulation of our Circumstances.