A C T IV.

SCENE, Without 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 incontinent;
Obedience fail in children; flaves 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 faft;
Rather than render back, out with your knives, (16)
And cut your trufters' throats. Bound fervants, fteal;
Large-handed robbers your grave mafters are,
And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;
Thy mistress is o'th' brothel. Son of fixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping fire,
And with it beat his brains out! Fear and Piety,
Religion to the Gods, peace, juftice, truth,
Domestick awe, night-reft, and neighbourhood,
Inftruction, manners, myfteries and trades,
Degrees, obfervances, customs and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries!

And yet Confufion live!-Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap

On Athens, ripe for ftroke! Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our fenators, that their limbs may halt

(16)

-Bankrupts, hold faft,

Rather than render back; out with your Knives,

And cut your Trufters throats.] Thus has this Passage hitherto been moft abfurdly pointed; even by the poetical Editors,, Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope. I had reformed the Pointing; but am, however, to make my Acknowledgements to fome anonymous Gentleman, who by Letter advised me to point it as I have done in the Text,

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 bofoms, and their Crop
Be general Leprofie: breath infect breath,
That their fociety (as their friendship) may
Be meerly poifon. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But nakedness, thou detestable town!

Take thou that too, with multiplying banns :
Timon will to the Woods, where he shall find.
Th' unkindeft beaft 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.

Ser.

Enter Flavius, with two or three fervants.

H

EAR you, good master steward, where's our mafter?

Are we undone, caft off, nothing remaining?

Flav. Alack, my fellows, what fhould I fay to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods,

I am as poor as you.

I Ser. Such a Houfe broke!

So noble a mafter 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 purfes pick'd: and his poor felf,

A dedicated beggar to the air,

With his difeafe of all-fhunn'd poverty,

Walks, like Contempt, alone.More of our fellows.

Enter

Enter other fervants.

Fla. All broken implements of a ruin'd house! 3 Ser. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery, That fee I by our faces; we are fellows ftill, Serving alike in forrow. Leak'd is our bark, And we poor mates, ftand on the dying deck, Hearing the furges threat: we must all part. Into the fea of air.

Fla. Good fellows all,

The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Where-ever we shall meet, for Timon's fake,
Let's yet be fellows: fhake our heads, and fay,
(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 forrow, parting poor.

[He gives them mony; they embrace, and part feveral

ways

Oh, the first wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to mifery 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 varnifh'd friends!
Poor honeft lord! brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodnefs: ftrange unusual blood,
When man's worft fin is, he does too much good.
Who then dares to be half fo kind again ?
For bounty, that makes Gods, does till mar men.
My dearest lord, bleft 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 monftrous 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 ferve his mind with my best will;
Whilft I have gold, I'll be his Steward ftill.

[Exit. SCENE

Tim.

SCENE, the WOODS.

Enter Timon.

draw

the earth

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 feveral 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 raise that Lord. The Antithefis muft be, let Fortune raise this Beggar, and let her ftrip, and defpoil 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 Sides,] This, as the Editors have order'd it, is an idle Repetition at the beft; fupposing 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 Observation, he illuftrates 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 fuperficial or corrupt Judgments, than between a fat Sheep and a lean one, Mr, Warburton.

So

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.
Deftruction phang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
[Digging the earth
Who feeks 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 leprofie 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 spittle-house, and ulcerous fores
Would caft the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To th' April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'ft 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 thee thou'lt go, (ftrong thief)
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.

Nay, tay 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