Which now the public body, (which doth feldom A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; 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, 1 Sen. Therefore so please thee to return with us, Who, like a boar too favage, doth root up 2 Sen. And thakes his threatning fword Against the walls of Athens. 1 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 Athens, And take our goodly aged men by th' beards, Of contumelious, beaftly, mad-brain'd war; Then let him know,-and tell him, Timon speaks it ; In pity of our aged, and our youth, I cannot chufe but tell him, that I care not. |___And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, While you have throats to anfwer. For myself, There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp, But I do prize it at my love, before VOL. VI. I The The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph, And laft fo long enough! 1 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. 1 Sen. That's well spoke. Tim. Commend me to my loving countrymen. 1 Sen. These words become your lips, as they pafs 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, Some kindness to them, teach them to prevent 2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again. And fhortly muft I fell it. Tell my friends, Come (38)-let bim take his tafte;] I don't know, upon what authority Mr. Pope in both his editions has given us this reading; I have reftor'd the text from the old books, and, I am perfuaded, as the author wrote. Timon's whole harangue is copied from this paffage of Plutarch in the life of M. Antony: "Ye men of Athens, in a court-yard " belonging Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the ax, [Exit Timon. 1 Sen. His difcontents 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) 1 Sen. It requires fwift foot. [Exeunt. “belonging to my house grows a large fig-tree; on which many an "honeft citizen has been pleafed to hang himself: Now, as I have "thoughts of building upon that spot, I could not omit giving you "this public notice; to the end, that if any more among you have a mind to make the fame use of my tree, they may do it speedily "before it is deftroy'd." And Rabelais, who, in the oldest prologue to his fourth brok, has inferted this story from Plutarch, thus renders the clofe of the fentence. -Pourtant quiconque de Vous autres, et de toute la ville aura a fe pendre, s'en depefche promptement. (39) In our dead peril. Thus Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope have given us this paffage; but is it not ftrange that the Athenians' peril fhould be dead, because one of their hopes was dead? Such a difappointment muft naturally give fresh life and ftrength to their danger. We must certainly read with the old Folio's; In our 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, &. And in Hamlet; Would I had met my deareft foe in heav'n, &c. And in an hundred other paffages, that might be quoted from our author. SCENE changes to the Walls of Athens. Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger. Sen. TH Hou haft painfully discover'd; are his files Mef. I have spoke the least. Befides, his expedition promifes 2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. Mef. 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 fpeak like friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, Enter the other Senators. 1 Sen. Here come our brothers. 3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.The enemies drum is heard, and fearful fcouring Doth choak the air with duft. In, and prepare ; Ours is the fall, I fear, our foes the snare. [Exeunt. Enter a Soldier in the woods, seeking Timon. Sol. By all defcription this fhould be the place. Who's here? fpeak, ho.-No answer ? this? What is Timon is dead, who hath out-ftretcht his fpan ;— (40) Some beaft read this: bere does not live a man.] Some beast read what? The foldier had yet only feen the rude pile of earth heap'd up for Timon's grave, and not the infcription 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 fupport of his conjecture: Comfort was never here; Here is no food, nor beds; nor any bouse The Dead, fure, and this his grave; what's on this tomb ? An ag'd interpreter, tho' young in days: [Exit. SCENE, before the Walls of Athens. Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his powers. Ound to this coward and lafcivious town Ale. 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 fcope of juftice. 'Till now myfelf, and fuch As flept within the fhadow of your power, Have wander'd with our traverst arms, and breath'd Our fufferance vainly. Now the time is flush, When crouching marrow in the bearer ftrong Cries, of itself, no more: now breathless wrong Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of ease, And purfy infolence fhall break his wind With fear and horrid flight. 1 Sen. Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, To wipe out our ingratitude, with loves 2 Sen. So did we woo (41) Transformed Timon to our city's love By The foldier, feeking by order for Timon, fees fuch an irregular mole, as he concludes must have been the workmanship of fome beast inhabiting the woods; and fuch a cavity, as either must have been fo over-arch'd, or happened by the cafual falling in of the ground. This latter fpecies of caverns, produced by nature, fchylus, I remember, in his Prometheus, elegantly calls duród.r' ävτga, felf-built dens. (41) So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city's love |