That sniffling whig-mayor, _Patience Ward_, To this damn’d lie had such regard, That he his godly masons sent T’engrave it round the Monument. They did so; but let such things pass: His men were fools, and he an ass. Roscommon, _The Ghost of the old House of Commons_ ... (1681), dockets ’.he _Bethels_ and the _Wards_’ together as Anti-Monarchic--Hereticks of State. _Your Damage is at most but half-a-Crown._ half-a-Crown was the price of admittance to the Pit. _vide_ note, vol. I, p. 450. p. 383 _A Pastoral to Mr. Stafford._ John Stafford, the translator of the Camilla episode (Dryden’s _Sylvae: or, the Second Part of Poetical Miscellanies_, 1685, p. 481), is the same person who translated other parts of Virgil and Horace in the same Miscellany, Vols. I and II. In the 3rd edition of Vol. II he is called ‘the Honourable Mr. John Stafford.’ Stafford is also the author of the Epilogue (sometimes erroneously printed as Dryden’s) to Southerne’s _The Disappointment; or, The Mother in Fashion_ (1684, and 4to, 1684). p. 383 _cale._ This excessively rare adjective, which the _N.E.D._ fails to include, is an Irish word = hard. p. 390 _Gildon’s Chorus Poetarum._ ‘Adequately to translate Sappho’ says J. A. Symonds in _The Greek Poets_ ‘was beyond the power of even Catullus: that love-ode, which Longinus called “not one passion, but a congress of passions,” and which a Greek physician copied into his book of diagnoses as a compendium of all the symptoms of corroding emotion, appears but languid in its Latin dress of “Ille mi par.” Far less has any modern poet succeeded in the task: Rossetti, who deals so skilfully with Dante and Villon, is comparatively tame when he approaches Sappho.’ This rendering of _The Ode to Anactoria_ (as tradition names it) #Phainetai moi kênos isos theoisin#, first appears under Mrs. Behn’s name in Gildon’s _Chorus Poetarum_, 1694. In _State Poems_, Vol. II (1703), it is printed with the title _On Madam_ Behn, a very different matter. If the lines are Mrs. Behn’s she must have versified them from a translation given her by Hoyle or some other friend. In any case they are graceful and far better than the versions of Ambrose Philips (1711), or Smollett (1748). But, indeed, it is impossible to translate these lines which are so truly ‘mixed with fire’ as Plutarch has it. For various attempts and a literal prose version see Wharton’s _Sappho_.