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Whick now the publick body, (which doth feldom
Play the recanter) feeling in itself
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And sends førth us to make their forrowed tender,
Together with a recompence more fruitful

Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, dev'n such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs;
And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it,
Surprize me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

i Sex Therefore so please thee to return with us,
And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The captain (hip: thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name
Live with authority : soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
Who, like a bear too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.

2 Sen. And Thakes his threatning sword Against the walls of Athens.

i Sen. Therefore, Timon Tim. Well, Sir, I will; therefore I will, Sir; thus--If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, That Timon cares not. If he fack fair Aibens, And take our goodly aged men by th' beardi, Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war ; Then let him know,mand tell him, Timon speaks it ; In pity of our aged, and our youth, I cannot chuse but tell him, that I care not. And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, While you have throats to answer. For myself, There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp, But I do prize it at my love, before VOL. VI.

1

The

The reverend'lt throat in Athens. So I leave yoy
To the protection of the prosp'rous gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph,
It will be seen to-morrow. My long fickness
Of health and liv'ng now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, live fill
Be Alcibiades your plague: you his ;
And last so long enough!

i Sen. We speak in vain.

Tim. But yet I love my country, and am not
One that rejoices in the common wrack,
As common bruite doth put it.

i Sen. That's well spoke.
Tim. Commend me to my loving countrymen.
1 Sen. These words become your lips, as they pass thro*

them. 2 Sen. And enter in our ears, like

great

triumphers In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them,
And tell them, that to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
Their

pangs of love, with other incident throes,
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage, I will do
Some kindness to them, teach them to prevent
Wild Alcibiades' wrath,

2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.
Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in

my

close, That mine own use invites me to cut down, And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends, 'Tell Athens, in the frequence of degree, From high to low throughout, that whoso please To stop affliction, let him take his hafte; (38)

Come 138) - let bim take bis taste;] I dont know, upon what authority Mr Pope in both his editions has given us this reading; I have reford the text from the old books, and, I am persuaded, as the author

Tin:on's whole harangue is copied from this passage of Plutercb in the life of M. Antony: “Ye men of Aibens, in a court yard

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Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the ax,
And hang himself

I pray you, do my greeting:
Flav. Vex him no further, thus you still shall find him.

Tim. Come not to me again, but fay to Athens,
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached verge of the falt flood;
Which once a-day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover: Thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle.
Lips, let sour words go by, and language end :
What is amifs, plague and infection mend!
Graves only be mens works, and death their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams ! Timon hath done his reign.

[Exit Timon. 1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably coupled to his

nature. 2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead ; let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril. (39) i Sen. It requires swift foot.

[Exeuni.

« belonging to my house grows a large fig-tree; on which many an so honest citizen has been pleas'd to hang himief: Now, as I have " thoughts of building upon that spot, I could got omit giving you “ this publick notice; to the end, that if any more among you have * a mind to make the same use of my tree, they may do it speedily

before it is destroy’d.” And Rabelais, who, in the oldest prologue to his fourth book, has inserted this story from Plutarch, thus renders the close of the sentence.

Pourtant quiconque de Vous autres, et de toute la ville aura a se pendre, s'en depesche promptement.

(39) In our dead peril.] Thus Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have given us this passage; but is it not strange that the Arbenians 'peril should be dead, because one of their hopes was dead? Such a disappointment muft naturally give fresh life and strength to their danger. We must certainly read with the old Folio's; In cur dear peril. i, e. dread, deep. So in As you like it;

For my father hated his father dearly, So in Jul. Caf.

Would it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, 5 cm And in Hamlet;

Would I had met my dearest foe in heav'n, C. And in an hundred other passages, that might be quoted from our author,

SCENE

I 2

>

1 Sen.

'T

SC EN E'changes to the Walls of Athens. Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.

Hou haft painfully discover'd; are his files

As full as thy report? Mes. I have spoke the least. Besides, his expedition promises Present approach.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Mes. I met a courier," one mine ancient friend; Who, though in general part we were oppos'd, Yet our old

love made a particular force, And made us speak like friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, With letters of intreaty, which imported His fellowship i' th' cause against your city, In part for his fake mov’d.

Enter the other Senators, 1 Sen. Here come our brothers.

3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of bim expect. The enemies drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choak the air with duft.

In, and prepare ; Qurs is the fall, I fear, our foes the snare. [Exeunt.

Enter a Soldier in the woods, feeking Timon. Sol. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? speak, ho. -No answeri

What is this? Timon is dead, who haih out-stretcht his span ;Some beast rear'd this; here does not live a man. (40)

Dead, (40) Some beaf read this: bere does not live a man.] Some beast read what? The soldier had yet only seen the rude pile of earth heap'd up for Timon's grave, and not the inscription upon it. My friend Mr. Warburton ingeniously advis'd me to amend the text, as I have done; and a paffage occurs to me, (from Beaumont and Fletcher's Cupid's revenge) that seems very strong in support of his conjecture:

Comfort was never here;
Here is no food, nor beds; nor any boue
Built by a better architect than beafts,

The

Dead, sare, and this his grave; what's on this tomb ?
I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax;
Our captain hath in every figure skill,
An ag'a interpreter, tho young in days:
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. (Exit.

SCENE, before the Walls of Athens.

Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his powers.

Ound to this coward and lascivious town Al. S our terrible approach.

[Sound a parley. The Senators appear upon the walls
'Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice. 'Till now myself, and such
As Nept within the shadow of your power,
Have wander'd with our traverst arms, and breath'd
Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is fush,
When crouching marrow in the bearer strong
Cries, of itself, no more: now breathless wrong
Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
And pursy insolence shall break his wind
With fear and horrid Hight.

Sen. Noble and young,
When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou hadft power, or we had cause to fear ;
We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude, with loves
Above their quantity.

2 Sen. So did we woo (41) Transformed Timon to our city's love

Ву The soldier, seeking by order for Timon, sees such an irregular mole, as he concludes must have been the workmanship of some beast in. habiting the woods; and such a cavity, as either must have been so over-arch'd, or happen'd by the casual falling in of the ground. This Latter species of caverns, produced by nature, Æschylus, I rememberg. in his Prometbeus, elegantly calls autóxlorärtpa, felf-builo denso (41)

So did we woo
Transformed Timon to our city's love

13

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