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SCENE, the WOODS.

Enter Timon.

Bleffed, breeding Sun, draw from the earth

Tim Rotten humidity: below thy fifter's orb

Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whofe procreation, refidence, and birth
Scarce is dividant, touch with several fortunes ;
The greater fcorns the leffer. Not ev'n nature,
To whom all fores lay fiege, can bear great fortune

But by contempt of nature.

Raife me this beggar, and denude that lord, (17)
The fenator fhall bear contempt hereditary,

The beggar native honour:

It is the Pafture lards the Weather's fides, (18)
The Want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
In purity of manhood stand upright,

And fay, this man's a flatterer ? if one be,

(17) Raife me this Beggar, and deny't that Lord,] Where is the Senfe and English of deny't that Lord? Deny him what? What preceding Noun is there, to which the Pronoun It is to be referr'd? And it would be abfurd to think the Poet meant, deny. to raife that Lord. The Antithefis must be, let Fortune raise this Beggar, and let her frip, and despoil that Lord of all his Pomp and Ornaments, c. which Senfe is compleated by this flight Alteration,

-and denude that Lord.

Mr. Warburton.

(18) It is the Pafture lards the Beggar's Sidus,] This, as the Editors have order'd it, is an idle Repetition at the best; fuppofing it did, indeed, contain the fame Sentiment as the foregoing Lines. But Shakespeare meant a quite different Thing: and having, like a fenfible Writer, made a smart Obfervation, he illuftrates it by a Similitude thus:

It is the Pafture lards the Weather's Sides,
The Want that makes him lean.

And the Similitude is extremely beautiful, as conveying this. Satirical Reflexion; there is no more Difference between Man and Man in the Efteem of fuperficial or corrupt Judgments, than between a fat Sheep and a lean one, Mr. Warburton.

So

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So are they all, for every greeze of fortune
Is fmooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique ;
There's nothing level in our curfed natures,
But direct villany. Then be abhorr'd,
All feafts, focieties, and throngs of men!
His Semblable, yea, himself, Timon difdains.
Destruction phang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
[Digging the earth.
Who seeks for better of thee, fawce his palate
With thy most operant poison! What is here ?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold?
No, Gods, I am no idle votarist.

Roots, you clear heav'ns! thus much of this will make
Black, white; fair, foul; wrong, right;

Bafe, noble: old, young; coward, valiant.

You Gods! why this? what this? you Gods! why, this
Will lug your priefts and fervants from your fides:
Pluck ftout mens' pillows from below their heads.
This yellow flave

Will knit and break religions; blefs th' accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprofre ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With fenators on the bench: this is it,

That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
She whom the fpittle-houfe, and ulcerous fores
Would caft the gorge at, this embalms and fpices
To th' April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that puttit odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee

Do thy right nature.[March afar off] Ha, a drum?
thou'rt quick,

But yet I'll bury theethou'lt go, (ftrong thief)
When gouty keepers of thee cannot ftand.

Nay, ftay thou out for earnest.

[Keeping fome gold..

Enter Alcibiades with drum and fife in warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra..

Alc. What art thou there? speak.

Tim. A beaft, as thou art. Cankers gnaw thy heart,

For

For fhewing me again the eyes of man!

Alc. What is thy name? is man fo hateful to thee, That art thy felf a man?

Tim. I am Mifanthropos, and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee fomething.

Alc. I know thee well :

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd, and strange.

Tim. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee,

I not defire to know. Follow thy drum,

With man's blood paint the ground; gules, gules; —
Religious Canons, civil Laws are cruel;

Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine
Hath in her more deftruction than thy fword,
For all her cherubin look.

Phry. Thy lips rot off!

Tim. I will not kifs thee, then the Rot returns
To thine own lips again..

Alc. How came the noble Timon to this change?
Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give :
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no funs to borrow of.

Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?
Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.

Alc. What is it, Timon?

If

Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none. thou wilt not promife, the Gods plague thee, for thou art, a man if thou doft perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alc. I've heard in fome fort of thy miferies. Tim. Thou faw'ft them when I had prosperity. Alc. I fee them now, then was a blessed time. Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. Timan. Is this th' Athenian minion, whom the world Voic'd fo regardfully ?

Tim. Art thou Timandra?

Timan. Yes.

Tim. Be a whore ftill: they love thee not, that ufe thee: Give them diseases, leaving with thee their luft :

Make

Make use of thy falt hours, season the flaves

For tubs and baths, bring down the rofe-cheek'd youth To th' Tub-faft, and the diet. (19)

Timan. Hang thee, monster!

Alc. Pardon him, fweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and loft in his calamities.

I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band. I heard and griev'd,
How curfed Athens, mindlefs of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy fword and fortune, trod upon them-
Tim. I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alc. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
Tim. How doft thou pity him, whom thou dost trouble?
I'ad rather be alone.

Alc. Why, fare thee well,

Here's gold for thee.

Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it.

Alc. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-
Tim. Warr'ft thou 'gainst Athens?

Alc. Ay, Timon, and have cause.

(19) To the Fubfaft, and the Diet.] One might make a very long and vain Search, yet not be able to meet with this prepofterous Word Fubfast, which has notwithstanding pass'd current with all the Editors. The Author is alluding to the Lues Venerea, and its Effects. At that Time, the Cure of it was perform'd either by Guaiacum, or Mercurial Unctions: and in both Cafes the Patient was kept up very warm and close; that in the first Application the Sweat might be promoted; and left, in the other, he should take Cold, which was fatal. "The Regimen "for the Course of Guaiacum (says Dr. Friend in his Hißt, of “Phyfick, Vol. 2. p. 380.) was at first strangely circumstantial; " and fo rigorous, that the Patient was put into a Dungeon in "order to make him fweat; and in that manner, as Fallopias expresses it, the Bones and the very Man himself was mace"rated." And as for the Unction, it was fometimes continued for thirty feven days; (as he observes, p. 375.) and during this Time there was neceffarily an extraordinary Abftinence requir'd. Mr. Warburton.

Tim. The Gods confound them all then in thy Conqueft,
And, after, Thee, when thou haft conquered !.
Al. Why me, Timon?

Tim. That by killing of villains
Thou waft born to conquer my Country.
Put up thy gold. Go on, here's gold, go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove

Will o'er fome high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the fick air: Let not thy fword skip one,
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He is an ufurer. Strike me the matron,
It is her habit only that is honeft,

Hér felf's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
Make foft thy trenchant fword; for thofe milk-paps,
That through the window-lawn bore at mens' eyes, (20)
Are not within the leaf of pity writ;

Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe,
Whofe dimpled fmiles from fools exhauft their mercy ;
Think it a baftard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat fhall cut,
And mince it fans remorfe. Swear against objects,
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor fight of priest in holy veftments bleeding,
Shall pierce à jot. There's gold to pay thy foldiers.
Make large confufion; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thy felf! fpeak not, be gone.
Alc. Haft thou gold yet?

I'll take the gold thou giv'ft me, not thy counsel.
Tim. Doft thou, or doft thou not, heav'n's curfe upon
thee!

Both. Give us fome gold, good Timon: haft thou

more ?

(20) That thro' the Window barn bore at men's Eyes.] I cannot for my Heart imagine, what Idea our wife Editors had of a Virgin's Breast thro' a Windowu barn: which I am fatisfied, muft be a corrupt Reading. In fhort, the Poet is alluding to the decent Custom in his Time of the Women covering their Necks and Bofom either with Lawn, or Cyprus; both which being tranĺparent, the Poet beautifully calls it the Window-Lawn.

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