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And morsels unctious, greases his pure mind,
That from it all consideration slips.

Enter Apemantus.
More man ? plague! plague!

Apem. I was directed hither. Men report,
Thou doft affect my manners, and doft use them.

Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate ; consumption catch thee!

Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected, A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade ? this place? This slave-like habit, and these looks of care ? Thy flatt'rers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft ; Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot That ever Timon was. Shame not these weeds, (22); By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou a flatt'rer now, and seek to thrive By That which has undone thee; hinge thy knee, And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, And call it excellent. Thou wast told thas : Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just That thou turn rascal : hadst thou wealth again, Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.

Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away my self.

Apem. Thou'st cast away thy self, being like thy self, So long a mad-man, now a fool. What, think'it thou, That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,

(22) Shame not these Woods.] But how did Timon any more shame the Woods by assuming the Character of a Cynick, than Apemantus did : The Poet certainly meant to make Apemantus say, Don't disgrace this Garb, which thou hast only affe&ted to assume ; and to seem the Crearure thou art not by Nature, but by the Force and Compullion of Poverty. We must cherefore restore,

Shame not these Weeds. Apenantus, in several other Passages of the Scene, reproaches him with his Change of Garb.

Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees,
That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'it out? will the cold brook,
Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning taste
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the spight
Of wreakful heav'n, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer meer nature ; bid them flatter thee;
Oh ! thou shalt find

Tim. A fool of thee ; depart.
Apem. I love thee better now, than e'er I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Apem. Why?
Tim. Thou flatt'rest misery.
Apem. I flatter not; but fay, thou art a caytiff.
Tim. Why dost thou seek me out ?
Apem. To vex thee.

Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Do'st please thy self in't ? (23)

Apem. Ay.
Tim. What! a knave too ?

Apem. If thou didft put this fowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well ; but thou
Doft it enforcedly : thou'dft Courtier be,

(23) Tim. Always a Villain's Office or a Fool's.

Do’s please thy self in't ?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. What ! a knave too ? ] Mr. Warburton proposes a Corre&tion here, which, tho’ it opposes the Reading of all the printed Copies, has great Juftness and Propriety in it. He would read;

What ! and know't too? The Reasoning of the Text, as it stands in the Books, is, in some fort, concluding backward : or rather making a Knave's and Villain's Office different : which, surely, is abfurd. The Correction quite removes the Absurdity, and gives this sensible Rebuke. “ 'What! Do'st thou please thy self in vexing me, " and at the same time know it to be the Office of a Villain of Fool?"

Wert

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Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Out-lives incertain pomp; is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never compleat ;
The other, at high with : Beft fates, contentless,
Have a distracted and most wretched being ;
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never claspt ; but bred a dog.
Hadft thou, like us, from our first swath proceeded
Through sweet degrees that this brief world affords,
To such, as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thy self
In general riot, melted down thy youth
In different beds of luft, and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but followed
The sugar'd game before thee. But my self,
Who had the world as my confectionary,
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employments ;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak ; have with one winter's brush
Fall'n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows. I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burthen.
Thy nature did commence in suff'rance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men ?
They never flatter'd thee. What hast thou given ?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject ; who in spight put stuff
To some she beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence ! be

gone
If thou hadît not been born the worit of men,
Thou hadft been knave and flatterer.

Apem. Art thou proud yet?
Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Apem. I, that I was no prodigal.

Tim. I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,

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I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee

gone That the whole life of Athens were in this ! Thus would I eat it.

[Eating a root. Apem. Here, I will mend thy feast. Tim. First mend my company, take away thy self. Apem. So I shall mend my own, by th' lack of thine.

Tim. "Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht; If not, I would it were.

Apem.. What wouldst thou have to Athens ?

Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind ; if thou wilt, Tell them there, I have gold ; look, so I have.

Apem. Here is no use for gold.

Tim. The best and truest :
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apem. Where ly't o'nights, Timon ?

Tim. Under that's above me.
Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus?

Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or rather, where I eat it.

Tim. 'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind !

Apem. Where would'st thou send it ? Tim. To fawce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mockt thee for too much curiosity ; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art de{pis’d for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee,

Tim. On what I hate I feed not.
Apem. Doft hate a medlar ?
Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An th' hadft hated medlers sooner, thou Shouldst' have loved thy self better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means ?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didit thou ever know beloved ?

Apem My self.

Tim. I understand thee, thou hadît some means to keep a dog.

Apem.

eat it.

Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers ?

Tim. Women nearest ; but men, men, are the things themselves. What would it thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power ?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Wouldst thou have thy self fall in the confusion of men, or remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem, Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the Gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert a lion, the fox would beguile thee ; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by the ass ; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and still thou liviaft but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee ; and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine' own self the conquest of thy fury. Wert thou a bear, thou wouldit be kill'd by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seiz'd by the leopard ; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast, couldst thou be, that were not subject to a beast ? and what a beast art thou already, and seeft not thy loss in transformation !

Apem. If thou couldit please me with speaking to me, thou might'st have hit upon it here. The Commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the City ?

Apem. Yonder comes a Poet, and a Painter. The Plague of Company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thes, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a Beggar's dog, than Apemantus. Vol. VI. H

Apom.

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