Oh, the fierce 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 flate compounds,
But only painted, like his varnish'd friends!
Poor honest Lord! brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodness: ftrange unusual blood,
When man's worst fin is, he does too much good..
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still 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 feat
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 fteward still.

Tim.

SCENE, the Woods,

Enter Timon.

[Exit.

Bleffed, breeding fun, draw from 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
But by contempt of nature.

great fortune

Raife me this beggar, and denude that Lord, (22)

The

(22) 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 must be, let fortune raise this beggar, and let her firip,

and

The fenator fhall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:

It is the pafture lards the weather's fides, (23)

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,
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 villainy. Then be abhorr'd,
All feafts, focieties, and throngs of men!
His femblable, yea, himself, Timon difdains.-
Deftruction phang mankind! earth, yield me roots!

[Digging the earth.

and defpoil that Lord of all his pomp and ornaments, &c. which fenfe is compleated by this flight alteration,

--and denude that Lord.

Mr. Warburton. I will beg leave to add, in confirmation of my friend's fine conjecture, that our author has contrafted the fame thought, only varying the terms, in his Venus and Adonis, Stanz. 192.

Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures.

423) It is the paflure lards the beggar's fides.] This, as the editors have ordered it, is an idle repetition at the beft; fuppofing it did, indeed, contain the fame fentiment as the foregoing lines. But ShakeSpeare meant a quite different thing: and having, like a fenfible writer, made a smart obfervation, he illuftrates it by a fimilitude thus: It is the pafture lards the weather's fides,

The want that makes him lean.

And the fimilitude is extremely beautiful, as conveying this fatirical reflection; there is no more difference between man and man in the efteem of fuperficial or corrupt judgments, than between a fat fheep Mr. Warburton.

and a lean one.

I cannot better praife the fagacity of my friend's emendation, than by producing the reading of the firft folio edition, (which, I know, he had not feen,) where we find it thus exhibited;

It is the pafture lards the brother's fides, &c.

Every knowing reader will agree, that this corruption might much more naturally be derived from weather's, than from beggar's, as far as the traces of the letters are concern'd; efpecially, in the old fecretary hand-writing, the universal character in our author's time. I will only add, that our poet, in his As you like it, makes a clown fay the very fame thing in a more ludicrous manner.

That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn; that good pafture makes fat sheep; &c.

VOL. VI.

H

Who

Who seeks for better of thee, faufe 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; foul, fair; wrong, right;

Bafe, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.

You gods! why this? what this? you gods! why, this
Will lug your priests and fervants from your fides:
Pluck ftout mens pillows from below their heads.
This yellow flave

Will knit and break religions; bless th' accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprofy 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, flay 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 beaft, as thou art. Cankers gnaw thy heart,

For fhewing me again the eyes of man!

Alc. What is thy name? is man fo hateful to thee,

That art thyfelf a man?

Tim. I am Mifanthropos, and hate mankind.

For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,

That I might love thee fomething.

Alc. I know thee well:

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd, and strange.

Tim. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee,

I

I not defire to know. Follow thy drum,

With man's blood paint the ground; gules, gules ;—
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;

Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy fword,

For all her cherubim look.

Phry. Thy lips rot off!

Tim. I will not kifs thee, then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.

Alc. How came the noble Timon to this change?
Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no funs to borrow of.

Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?
Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.

Alc. What is it, Timon?

If

Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none. thou wilt not promife, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man: if thou doft perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alc. I've heard in fome fort of thy miferies. Tim. Thou faw'it them when I had profperity. Alc. I fee them now, then was a bleffed time. Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world Voic'd fo regardfully?

Tim. Art thou Timandra?

Timan. Yes.

Tim. Be a whore ftill: they love thee not, that use thee: Give them diseases, leaving with thee their luft; Make use of thy falt hours, feason the flaves

For tubs and baths, bring down the rofe-cheek'd youth To th' tub-faft, and the diet. (24)

Timan

(24) To the fubfaft, and the diet.] One might make a very long and vain fearch, yet not be able to meet with this prepofterous word fubfaft, which has notwithstanding pafs'd current with all the editors. The author is alluding to to the Lues Venerea, and its effects. At that time, the cure of it was perform'd either by Guaiacum, or Mercurial unctions; and in both cafes the patient was kept up very warm and clofe; that in the first application the fweat might be promoted; and

H 2

left,

Timan. Hang thee, monfter!

Alc. Pardon him, fweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and loft in his calamities.

I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band. I heard and griev'd,
How curfed Athens, mindlefs of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy fword and fortune, trod upon them-
Tim. I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alc. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
Tim. How doft thou pity him, whom thou dost trouble?
I'ad rather be alone.

Alc. Why, fare thee well,

Here's gold for thee.

Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it.

-

Alc. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap -
Tim. Warr'ft thou 'gainst Athens ?

Alc. Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim. The gods confound them all then in thy conquest, And, after, thee, when thou haft conquered!

Alc. Why me, Timon?

left, in the other, he fhould take cold, which was fatal." The "regimen for the course of Guaiacum (says Dr. Friend in his hift. of phyfick, Vol. 2. p. 380.) was at first strangely circumstantial; and fo rigorous, that the patient was put into a dungeon in order to "make him fweat; and in that manner, as Fallopius expreffes it, "the bones and the very man himself was macerated." And as for the unction, it was fometimes continued for thirty-feven days; (as he dbferves, p. 375) and during this time there was neceffarily an extraordinary abftinence requir'd. Mr. Warburton.

Shakespeare himfelf, I remember, in another of his plays, alludes to the cuftom of this tub-difcipline.

Meaf. for Meaf. Act 3. where the clown is fpeaking of the bawd; Troth, Sir, he hath eaten up all her beef, and the is herfelf in the tub And Beaumont and Fletcher in the Knight of the Burning Peftle; Pris'ners of mine, whom I in diet keep,

Send lower down into the cave,

And in a tub, that's heated smoaking hot,
There may they find them, &c.

And afterwards, in the fame play, fome of thefe pin'd prifoners are produc'd, complaining of their tub-fweat, and spare-diet. `But enough of thefe unfavoury proofs,