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By humble meffage, and by promis'd 'mends:
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common ftroke of war.

1 Sen. Thefe walls of ours

Were not erected by their hands, from whom
You have receiv'd your griefs: nor are they fuch,
That these great tow'rs, trophies, and fchools should fall
For private faults in them.

2 Sen. Nor are they living,

Who were the motives that you firft went out:
Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess (42)
Hath broke their hearts. March on, oh, noble Lord,
Into our city with thy banners fpread;

By decimation and a tithed death,

If thy revenges hunger for that food

Which nature loaths, take thou the deftin'd tenth;
And by the hazard of the fpotted die,

Let die the fpotted.

1 Sen. All have not offended:

For thofe that were, it is not fquare to take

By bumble meage, and by promis'd means:] Promis'd means must import a fupply of fubftance, the recruiting his funk fortunes; but that is not all, in my mind, that the poet would aim at. The fenate had wooed him with humble meffage, and promise of general reparation for their injuries and ingratitude. This feems included in the flight change which I have made and by promis'd 'mends and this word, apostrophe'd, or otherwife, is ufed in common with amends. So in Troilus and Creffida;

Let her be as the is; if fhe be fair, 'tis the better for her; an fhe be not, fhe has the mends in her own hands.

And fo B. Jonfon in his Every Man out of his Humour :

Pardon me, gentle friends, I'll make fair mends

For my foul errors paft.

(42) Shame, that they wanted cunning in exces,

Hath broke their hearts.] i. e. in other terms,-Shame, that they were not the cunning'ft men alive, hath been the cause of their death. For cunning in excefs muft mean this or nothing. O brave editors! They had heard it faid, that too much wit in fome cafes might be dangerous, and why not an obfolute want of it? But had they the fkill or courage to remove one perplexing comma, the easy and genuine fenfe would immediately arife. "Shame in excefs (i. c. extremity "of shame) that they wanted cunning (i. e. that they were not wife "enough not to banish you;) hath broke their hearts."

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On those that are, revenge: crimes, like to lands,
Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage;
Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin,
Which in the blufter of thy wrath must fall
With those that have offended; like a fhepherd,
Approach the fold, and cull th' infected forth;
But kill not all together.

2 Sen. What thou wilt,

Thou rather fhalt enforce it with thy fmile,
Than hew to't with thy fword.

1 Sen. Set but thy foot

Againft our rampir'd gates, and they fhall ope:
So thou wilt fend thy gentle heart before,
To fay, thou'lt enter friendly.

2 Sen. Throw thy glove,

Or any token of thine honour elfe,

That thou wilt ufe the wars as thy redrefs,
And not as our confufion: all thy powers
Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
Have feal'd thy full defire.

Alc. Then there's my glove;

Defcend, and open your uncharged ports;
Those enemies of Timon's, and mine own,
Whom you yourselves fhall fet out for reproof,
Fall, and no more; and to atone your fears
With my more noble meaning, not a man
Shall pafs his quarter, or offend the ftream
Of regular juftice in your city's bounds;
But fhall be remedied by publick laws
At heaviest answer.

Both. "Tis moft nobly spoken.

Alc. Defcend, and keep your words.

Enter a Soldier.

Sol. My noble General, Timon is dead; Entomb'd upon the very hem o' th' fea;

And on the grave-ftone this infculpture, which
With wax I brought away; whofe foft impreffion
Interpreteth for my poor ignorance.

1 4

[Alcibiades

[Alcibiades, reads the epitaph.]

Here lyes a wretched coarfe, of wretched foul bereft: (43) Seek not my name: a plague confume you caitiffs left t Here lye I Timon, who all living men did hate,

Pass by, and curfe thy fill, but ftay not here thy gaite.

1

These well exprefs in thee thy latter fpirits:

Tho' thou abhorr'ft in us our human griefs,
Scorn'dft our brains flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard nature fall; yet rich conceit (44)
Taught thee to make vaft Neptune weep for aye
On thy low grave.-On: faults forgiven.-Dead
Is noble Timan, of whose memory

Hereafter more-Bring me into your city,

And

(43) Here lies a reretched coarse,] This epitaph the poet has form'd out of two separate diftichs quoted by Plutarch in his life of M. Antony the first, faid to have been compos'd by Timon himself; the other is an epitaph on him made by Callimachus, and extant among his epi✩ grams. The verfion of the latter, as our author has tranfmitted it to u, avoids thofe blunders which Leonard Aretine, the Latin tranflator of the above quoted life in Plutarch, committed in it. I once imagin'd, that Shakespeare might poffibly have corrected this tranflator's blunder from his own acquaintance with the Greek original: but, I find, he has tranfcrib'd the four lines from an old English verfion of Plutarch, extant in his time. I have not been able to trace the time, when this play of our author's made its first appearance; but I believe, it was written before the death of QElizabeth; because I take it to be hinted at in a piece, call'd, Jack Drum's entertainment; or, the comedy of Pafquill and Katherine, play'd by the children of Powles and printed in 1601.

-Come, come, now I'll be as fociable as Timon of Aibens. (44) yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vaft Neptune weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead As noble Timon, of whofe memory

Hereafter more. All the editors, in their learning and fagacity, have fuffer'd an unaccountable abfurdity to pass them in this paffage. Why was Neptune to weep on Timon's faults forgiven? Or, indeed, what faults had Timon committed, except against his own fortune and happy fituation in life? But the corruption of the text lies only in the bad pointing, which I have difengag'd, and reftor'd to the true mean ing. Acibiades's whole fpeech, as the editors might have observ'd,

And I will use the olive with my sword;
Make war breed peace; make peace flint war; make each
Prefcribe to other, as each other's leach.

Let our drums ftrike.

[Exeunt.

is in breaks, betwixt his reflections on Timon's death, and his addref-
fes to the Athenian fenators: and as foon as he has commented on the
place of Timon's grave, he bids the fenate fet forward; tells 'em, he
has forgiven their faults; and promises to use them with mercy. The
very fame manner of expreffion occurs in Antony, and Cleopatra,
Anto. Well; what worst?

Mef. The nature of bad news infects the teller.
Anto. When it concerns the fool or coward: --
Things, that are past, are done with me,

On j

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