it is absurd to say that Letters know any Thing; but it is no absurdity to say, something is known to our Age, or that any one knows his Age.  And a little after, where he propounds an Ambiguity in the Accent, the Translator does not stick to put Virgil’s Words instead of Homer’s, when there was the same Necessity in that Example, quicquid dicis esse, hoc est, What thou sayst is, it is. Aristotle out of Homer says, [Greek:  ou kataputhetai ombro], if [Greek:  ou] should be aspirated and circumflected, it sounds in Latin thus; Cujus computrescit pluvia; by whose Rain it putrifies; but if [Greek:  ou] be acuted and exile, it sounds, Non computrescit pluvia; it does not putrify with Rain; and this indeed is taken out of the Iliad [Greek:  ps].  Another is, [Greek:  didomen de oi euchos aresthai]:  the Accent being placed upon the last Syllable but one, signifies, grant to him; but plac’d upon the first Syllable [Greek:  didomen], signifies, we grant.  But the Poet did not think Jupiter said, we grant to him; but commands the Dream itself to grant him, to whom it is sent to obtain his Desire.  For [Greek:  didomen], is used for [Greek:  didonai].  For these two of Homer, these two are added out of our Poets; as that out of the Odes of Horace.

      Me tuo longas pereunte noctes,
                         Lydia, dormis.

For if the Accent be on me being short, and tu be pronounc’d short, it is one Word metuo; that is, timeo, I am afraid:  Although this Ambiguity lies not in the Accent only, but also arises from the Composition.

They have brought another Example out of Virgil: 

      Heu quia nam tanti cinxerunt aethera nymbi!

Although here also the Ambiguity lies in the Composition.

Hi. Leonard, These Things are indeed Niceties, worthy to be known; but in the mean Time, I’m afraid our Entertainment should seem rather a Sophistical one, than a Poetical one:  At another Time, if you please, we’ll hunt Niceties and Criticisms for a whole Day together.

Le. That is as much as to say, we’ll hunt for Wood in a Grove, or seek for Water in the Sea.

Hi. Where is my Mouse?

Mou. Here he is.

Hi. Bid Margaret bring up the Sweet-Meats.

Mus. I go, Sir.

Hi. What! do you come again empty-handed?

Mus. She says, she never thought of any Sweet-Meats, and that you have sat long enough already.

Hi. I am afraid, if we should philosophize any longer, she’ll come and overthrow the Table, as Xantippe did to Socrates; therefore it is better for us to take our Sweet-Meats in the Garden; and there we may walk and talk freely; and let every one gather what Fruit he likes best off of the Trees.