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"There is no time so miserable."

This, as Dr. Warburton has remarked, should be the speech of the Second Thief.

181. "An honest poor servant of yours."

This is not metre: I suppose it was,

"A poor and honest servant of

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yours.

182. "So comfortable? It almost turns.”

We might read, in measure,

"So comfortable? It doth almost turn." 183. "One honest man,-but one; "No more, I pray.".

Timon is not only at enmity with mankind, but feels a gratification in entertaining that enmity, and deprecates any occasion to abate or mitigate it.

"No more, I pray,-and he is a steward." This is a line only as it counts ten syllables; to render it metre, another must be added:

But one;

"No more, I pray, and he is a poor steward."

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Some words are wanting: perhaps, these:

"Save only thee, I fell with bitterest curses."

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If not a usuring kindness," &c.

Kindness has fallen, by mistake, into this line, in awkward repetition, besides spoiling the verse:

Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous ? "If not a usuring? as rich men deal gifts, Expecting," &c.

184. "My most honour'd lord.”

No verse could begin in this manner. Flavius might have said,

"O my dear lord, my ever honour'd master!

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Give to dogs

"What thou deniest to men," &c.

The metre here is miserably deranged, and without necessity. I would read,

"What thou deniest men: prisons swallow them."

187.

ACT V. SCENE I.

An intent that's coming toward him."

A poetical design or invention.

188. "True.

"When the day," &c.

Whether this speech be assigned to the poet or painter, it should not proceed in this awkward manner. The word "true" may easily be accommodated in the following line:

"True, when the day serves, ere black corner'd night."

The affectation and obscurity of the expression would seem to favour Mr. Theobald's conjecture that it belongs to the poetaster, but the painter is not free from the same impertinencies.

"Come,"

Is another idle interpolation.

189. "Than where swine feed.”.

Something has been lost; perhaps, like this:

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Potent artificer,

""Tis thou that rigg'st the bark," &c.

"Fit I do meet them."

Mr. Steevens very properly supplied the auxiliary verb do, in this hemistic. But why should the critic's care be confined to a hemistic, when it might reform the verse. The following fragment, as it stands, is as lame as the former: I would read, by an easy transposition only,

"Fit I (do) meet them."
Worthy Timon, hail."

Poet, "

I suppose a part of the Painter's speech has

been lost:

"Our late and ever honour'd noble master.

"Sir,

Having often," &c.

Again "Sir" occupies, without any necessity, the place of a line:

Sir, having oft your noble bounty tasted."

"Not all the whips of Heaven are large

enough

"What! to you!

"Whose," &c.

This abruptness in the Poet's speech, and the metrical irregularity, was studied.

Whose star-like nobleness."

Thus in Macbeth:

Signs of nobleness like stars shall shine."

190. "With any size of words."

Some words are wanting. I would regulate here:

"With any size of words."

Tim. "

Let it go naked;

"Men may the better see and know it then."

Again an awkward hemistic. I suppose, after the Painter's words,

"Came not my friend nor I,”

the Poet added,

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This is, indeed, so so; for so alone will give the metre.

"Thou counterfeit'st most lively."
So, my lord."

Paint. "

191. "Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I."

How could such a disposition of words be put for a verse-by dismissing ('tis,) which is elliptically implied, we have the metre.

"Doubt it not, worthy lord."

I take this to be the conclusion of a line begun by another speaker, whose words are lost. Timon asks,

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Paint. "

Doubt it not, worthy lord."

"Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him."

We may here, indeed, reckon ten syllables, but find no metre: the argument is defective too, and manifests corruption. I would read,

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Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, "Know his gross patchery, yet love him, feed

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him,

Keep in your bosom; but remain assur'd, "He is a made-up villain."

What follows is defective. I suppose the measure proceeded thus:

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These words have been obtruded, to spoil the metre. "Name them, my lord," completes both the meaning and the verse.

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