That scolds against the quality of flesh,

And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee,

Smells from the general weal:' make curled-pate ruffians bald;

And let the unscarred braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you. Plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection.-There's more gold
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

Phr. & Timan. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

Tim. More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

Alcib. Strike up the drum, towards Athens. Farewell, Timon;

If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

Alcib. I never did thee harm.

Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.

Alcib.

Tim. Men daily find it such. And take thy beagles with thee.

Call'st thou that harm?

Get thee away,

Alcib.

Strike.

We but offend him.

[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADEs, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA.

Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry!-Common mother, thou, [Digging.

Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,
Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,

1 To "foresee his particular" is "to provide for his private advantage, for which he leaves the right scent of public good."

2 To grave is to bury. The word is now obsolete, but was familiar to our old writers.

The gilded newt, and eyeless, venomed worm,1
With all the abhorred births below crisp 2 heaven,
Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above 3
Never presented!-O, a root, dear thanks!
Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts,
And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
That from it all consideration slips!

Enter APEMANTUS.

More man? Plague! plague!

Apem. I was directed hither.

Men report,

Thou dost affect my manners, and dost 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 slavelike habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper; 5
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive

1 The serpent which we, from the smallness of the eye, call the blindworm, and the Latins cæcilia.

2 Perhaps Shakspeare meant curled (which was synonymous with crisp), from the appearance of the clouds.

3 Again in Othello:

"Now by yon marble heaven."

4 i. e. their diseased, perfumed mistresses.

5 "Cunning of a carper" is the the fastidiousness of a critic. Shame not these words, says Apemantus, by coming here to find fault.

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 thus ;

Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid wel

come,

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 myself.
Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like
thyself;

A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these mossed trees,
That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,

And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,

To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven; whose bare, unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,

Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee;

O! 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.

Tim.

Why?

Thou flatter'st misery.

To vex thee.

Apem. I flatter not; but say, thou art a caitiff.
Tim. Why dost thou seek me out?

Apem.

Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's. Dost please thyself in't?

Apem.

Tim.

Ay.

What! a knave too?

Apem. If thou didst put this sour, cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery

Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned before:1
The one is filling still, never complete;

The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.

Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

2

Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favor never clasped; but bred a dog.

Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath,3 proceeded
The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it1

Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learned
The icy precepts of respect," but followed
The sugared game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;

The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows;-I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden;
Thy nature did commence in sufferance; time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate

men?

They never flattered thee.

What hast thou given?

1 To have wishes crowned is to have them completed, to be content. The highest fortunes, if contentless, have a wretched being, worse than that of the most abject fortune accompanied by content.

2 By his breath means by his voice, i. e. suffrage.

3 i. e. from infancy, from the first swath-band with which a new-born infant is enveloped. "There is in this speech a sullen haughtiness and malignant dignity, suitable at once to the lord and the man-hater. The impatience with which he bears to have his luxury reproached by one that never had luxury within his reach, is natural and graceful."-Johnson. 4 The old copy reads, "The passive drugges of it." Drug, or drugge, is only a variation of the orthography of drudge, as appears by Baret's Alvearie.

5 The cold admonitions of cautious prudence. Respect is regardful consideration.

If thou wilt curse,-thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
To some she-beggar, and compounded thee,
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone!-
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

Art thou proud yet?

I, that I was

I, that I am one now;

Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
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.

Apem.

[Eating a root. Here; I will mend thy feast, [Offering him something.

Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of

thine.

Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botched; 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.

The best, and truest;

Tim.
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apem. Where ly'st 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 wouldst thou send it?

Tim.

To sauce 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 mocked thee for too