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A C T IV.

SCENE, Witbout the walls of Athens.

L

Enter TIMON.
ET me look back upon thee, O thou Wall,
That girdleft in those wolves ! dive in the earth,

And fence not Athens ! Matrons, turn incontinents
Obedience fail in children; faves and fools
Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the bench,
And minister in their fteads: To general filths
Convert o'th' inftant, green Virginity!
Do't in your parents' eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast ;
Rather than render back, out with your knives, (16)
And cut your trusters' throats. Bound servants, fteal;
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed ;
Thy mistress is o’th' brothel. Son of fixteen,
Pluck the lind crutch from thy old limping fire,
And with it beat his brains out! Fear and Piety,
Religion to the Gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestick awe, night-reft, and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries!
And yet Confusion live!-Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Aibens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs

may

halt
(16)

Bankrupts, hold fast,
Rather than render back; out with your Knives,

And cut your Trusters' hroats. ] Thus has this Passage hitherto been most absurdly pointed; even by the poetical Editorsy Ms. Rowe, and Mr. Pope. I had reformed the Pointing; but am, however, to make my Acknowledgements to some anonyo. mous Gentleman, who by Letter advised me to point it as I have done in the Text:

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As lamely as their manners.

Luft and Liberty
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
'That'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves in riot! Itches, Blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms, and their Crop
Be general Leprofie: breath infect breath,
That their society (as their friendship) may
Be meerly poison. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But nakedness, thou deteftable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns :
Timon will to the Woods, where he shall find
Th' unkindeft beast much kinder than mankind.
The Gods confound (hear me, ye good Gods all).
Th’ Athenians both within and out that wall;
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow,
To the whole Race of Mankind, high and low! [Exit.

SCENE changes to Timon's House.

HEAI

Enter Flavius, with two or three servants. Ser.

EAR you, good master steward, where's our

master ?
Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining ?

Flav. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods,
I am as poor as you.

i Ser. Such a House broke!
So noble a master fall’n! all gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him?

2 Ser. As we do turn our backs From our companion, thrown into his

grave;
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
Slink all away; leave their falfe vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd: and his poor felf,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like Contempt, alone. -More of our fellows.

Enter

Enter other servants.
Fla. All broken implements of a ruin'd house!

3 Ser. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in forrow. Leak’d is our bark,
And we poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part.
Into the sea of air.

Fla. Good fellows all,
The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Where-ever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be fellows: fhake our heads, and say,
(As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes)
We have seen better days. Let each take fome;
Nay put out all your hands; not one word

more, Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. [He gives them mony; they embrace, and part several

ways i Oh, the first wretchedness that glory brings us! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to misery and contempt? Who'd be fo mock'd with glory, as to live But in a dream of friendship? To have his Pomp, and all what State compounds, But only painted, like his varnish'd friends! Poor honest lord ! brought low by his own heart, Undone by goodness : ftrange unusual blood, .When man's worst sin is, he does too much good. Who then dares to be half so kind again? For bounty, that makes Gods, does Itill mar men. My dearest lord, bleit to be most accurs’d, Rich only to be wretched; thy great fortunes Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord ! He's flung in rage from this ungrateful Seat Of monstrous friends : nor has he with him to Supply his life, or that which can command it: I'll follow and enquire him out. I'll ever serve his mind with my best will ; Whilft I have gold, I'll be his Steward still. [Exit.

SC EN E

SCENE, the WOODS.

Enter Timon.

Tim. O ,

Rotten humidity: below thy fifter's orb.
Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth
Scarce is dividant, touch with several fortunes ;
The greater scorns the lesser. Not ev'n nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great

fortune
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord, (17)
The fenator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour :
It is the Pasture lards the Weather's fides, (18)
The Want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, this man's a flatterer ? if one be,

(17) Raise me this Beggar, and deny't that Lord,) Where is the Sense and English of deny't that Lord ? Deny him what? What preceding Nonn is there, to which the Pronoun It is to be referr'd! And it would be absurd to think the Poet mcant, deny to raise that Lord. The Antithesis must be, let Fortune raiso this Beggar, and let her strip, and despoil that Lord of all his Pomp and Ornaments, &c. which Sense is compleated by this Bight Alteration,

-and denude that Lord. Mr.Warburton. (18) It is the Pasture lards the Beggar's Sides,] This, as the Editors have order'd it, an idle Repetition at the best; supposing it did, indeed, contain the fame Sentiment as the foregoing Lines. But Shakespeare meant a quite different Thing: and having, like a sensible Writer, made a smart Observacion, he illustrates it by a Similitude thus:

It is the Pasture lards the Weather's Sides,

The Want that makes him lean, And the similitude is extreamly beautiful, as conveying this Satirical Reflexion; there is no more Difference between Man and Man in the Efteem of superficial or corrupt Judgments, than between a fat Sheep and a lean ons Mi, Warburton.

So

So are they all, for every greeze of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool : All is oblique ;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villany. Then be abhorr'd,
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men !
His Semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.
Deftruction 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 votarift.
Roots, you

clear heav'ns ! thus much of this will make Black, white; fair, foul ; wrong, right; Base, noble : old, young; coward, valiant. You Gods ! why this ? what this ? you Gods! why, this. Will lug your priests and servants from your fides : Pluck stout mens' pillows from below their heads. This yellow flave Will knit and break religions ; bless th' accurs'd ; Make the hoar leprofie ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench : this is it, That makes the wappen'd widow wed again ; She whom the spittle-house, and ulcerous fores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To thApril 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 of:] Ha, a drum?

thou’rt quick, But yet I'll bury thee - thou'lt go, (strong thief) ) When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. Nay, itay 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 beast, as thou art. Cankers gnaw thy heart,

For

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