That he may never more falfe title plead, And not believes himself. Down with the nose, [bald, Smells from the gen'ral weal. Make curl'd-pate ruffians Both. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. Tim. More whore, more mifchief, firft; I've given you earnest. Akc. Strike up the drum tow'rds Athens ; farewel, Timon: If I thrive well, I'll vifit thee again. Tim. If I hope well, I'll never fee thee more. Alc. I never did thee harm. Tim. Yes, thou spok'ft well of me. Alc. Call'st thou that harm? Tim. Men daily find it. Get thee hence, away, And take thy beagles with thee. Alc. We but offend him: ftrike. [Exeunt Alcibiad. Phryn. and Timand. Tim. That nature, being fick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry! common mother, thou Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breaft Teems, and feeds all; oh thou! whofe felf-fame mettle (Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puft) Engenders the black toad, and adder blue, The gilded newt, and eyelefs venom'd worm; With all th' abhorred births below crifp heav'n, Whereon Hyperion's quickning fire doth fhine; Yield him, who all thy human fons does hate, From forth thy plenteous bofom, one poor root! Enfear thy fertile and conceptious womb; Let it no more bring out ingrateful man. Gó great with tygers, dragons, wolves and bears, H 4 Teem Teem with new monfters, whom thy upward face Dry up thy marrows, veins, and plough-torn leas, (27) Enter Apemantus. More man? plague, plague! Apem. I was directed hither. Men report, From change of fortune. Why this fpade? this place? Thy flatt'rers yet wear filk, drink wine, lye foft; By (27) Dry up thy marrows, veins, and plough-torn leas.] Mr. Warburton thinks, the uniformity of the metaphor requires that we should read, Dry up thy harrow'd veins, and plough-torn leas. 'Tis certain, the verfe is render'd much more beautiful by this reading; but as, unctious morfels following, by marrows the poet might mean what we call the fat of the land, I have not ventur'd to infert the conjecture into the text. (28) Shame not thefe woods,] But how did Timon any more shamethe woods by affuming the character of a cynick, than Apemantus did? The poet certainly meant to make Apemantus fay, don't difgrace this garb, which thou haft only affected to affume; and to feem the creature thou art not by nature, but by the force and compulfion of poverty. We must therefore reftore, -Shame not thefe weeds. Apemantus in feveral other paffages of the scene reproaches him with his change of garb. -Why this fpade? this place? This flave-like habit? -Do not affume my likeness. If thou did't put this fower cold babit on Το By putting on the cunning of a carper. Do not affume my likeness. Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself. Apem. Thou'ft caft away thyself, being like thyfelf, So long a madman, now a fool. What, think'ft thou, That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, Will put thy fhirt on warm? will these moift trees That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels, And skip when thou point'ft out? will the cold brook, Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning tafte To cure thy o'er-night's furfeit? Call the creatures, Of wreakful heav'n, whofe bare unhoufed trunks, Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; Tim. A fool of thee; depart. Apem. I love thee better now, than e'er I did. Apem. Why? Tim. Thou flatt'reft mifery. Apem. I flatter not; but fay, thou art a caitiff. Apem. To vex thee. Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's. Doft please thyfelf in't? (29) To caftigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou Wert thou not beggar, (29) Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's. Do'ft please thyself in't? Apem. Ay. Apem. Mr. Warburton. Apem. Ay. Tim. What! a knave too? Apem. If thou didft put this fower cold habit on The other, at high wifh: Beft ftates, contentlefs, Thou fhouldft defire to die, being miferable. Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thyfelf The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men Do on the oak; have with one winter's brush Tm. What! a knave too?] Mr. Warburton propofes a correction here, which, tho' it oppofes the reading of all the printed copies, has great juftnefs and propriety in it. He would read; What! and know't too? The reafoning of the text, as it ftands in the books, is, in fome fort, concluding backward: or rather making a knave`s and villain's office different: which, furely, is abfurd. The correction quite removes the abfurdity, and gives this fenfible rebuke. "What! do'st "thou pleafe thyfelf in vexing me, and at the fame time know it to be the office of a villain or feel?" Thy Thy nature did commence in fuff'rance, time Were all the wealth I have, fhut up in thee, Apem. Here, I will mend thy feast. [Eating a root. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyfelf. (30) Apem. So I fhall mend my own, by th' lack of thine. Tim. 'Tis not well mended fo, it is but botcht; 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, fo I have. Apem. Here is no use for gold, Tim. The beft and trueft: For here it fleeps, and does no hired harm. Tim. Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus? Apem. Where my ftomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it. Tim. Would poifon were obedient, and knew my mind! Apem. Where wouldst thou send it ? Tim. To fauce thy dishes. (30) Firft mend thy company, ----] Thus the old copies; but common fenfe and the whole tenour of the context warrant that it should be---my company.---I obferve, Mr. Rowe in his 8vo edition of our poet has likewife made this correction, Apem |