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That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'it out? will the cold brook,
Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning taste
To cure thy o'er-night's furfeit? Call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the spight
Of wreakful heav'n, whose bare unhouted trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos’d,
Answer mere nature ; bid then fatter thee:
Oh! thou shalt find-

Tim. Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp’d; but bred a doga
Hadst thou, like us, froin our first swath proceeded
Through sweet degrees that this brief world affords,
To fuch, as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command; thou wouldnt have plung'd thyself
In general riot, melted down thy youth
In different beds of luft, and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but followed
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary,

The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men
At duty more than I could frame employments ;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fall’n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storin that blows. I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is fome burthen:
Thy nature did commence in suff'rance ; time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldit thou hate men?
They never flatter'd thee. What halt thou giv’n ?
If thou wilt curfe thy father, that poor rug
Mutt be thy subject; who in spight put ituff
To some she-beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! begone
If thou hadít not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadît been knave and flatterer.

On Gold.
O, thou sweet king-killer and dear divorce

(Looking on the gold,

'Twixt natural son and fire ! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's pureit bed! thou valiant Mars!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd and delicate wooer,
(19) Whose blush doth thaw the confecrated snow,
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That fouldrest close impoffibilities,
And mak'st them kiss ! that speak'st with every tongue,
To every purpose! Oh, thou touch of hearts !
Think, thy Nave man rebels ; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire.

SCENE VII. Timon to the 'Thieves.
Why should


want? behold the earth hath roots; Within this mile bre::k forth an hundred springs ; The oaks bear malts, the briers scarler hips : The bounteous huswife nature on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?

i Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds and fishes: You must eat men.

Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profeft; that you work not In holier Shapes : for there is boundless theft In limited professions. Rascals, thieves, Here's gold. Go, fuck the subtle blood o'th' grape, 'Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth, And so 'fcape hanging. Trust not the physician, His antidotes are poifon, and he slays More than you rob ;(16) takes wealth and life together : Do villany, do, since you profess to do't, Like workmen; I'll example you with thievery.

The (15) Whose blush, &c.] The imagery here is exquisitely beautiful and sublime; and that still heightened by allusion to a fable and custom of antiquity, viz. the story of Danae and the golden shower; and the use of consecrating to a god or goddess, that which, from a similarity of nature, they were supposed to hold in esteem. Warburto.

(16) Takes wealth and life together ; Oxford edit. vul. Tahe Wealth and live together.

The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast fea. The moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The (17) mounds into falt tears. The earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a coinposure stol'n
From gen’ral excrements: each thing's a thief.
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves, away,
Rob one another; there's more gold; cut throats ;
All that you meet are thieves : to Athens go,
Break open shops, for nothing can you steal
But thieves do lose it.


On his honest Steward. Forgive my gen'ral and exceptless rashness, Perpetual, fober gods! I do proclaim One honest man! mistake me not, but one: No more, I pray; and he's a steward. How fain would I have hated all mankind, And thou redeein'ít thyself: but all, save thee, I fell with curses. (18) Methinks, thou art more honest now than wife; For, by oppressing and betraying me, Thou mightít have fooner got another service : For many so arrive at second masters, Upon their first lord's neck,


(17) Mounds.] This formerly was moon, and the alteration is claimed by Mr. Theobald and Mr. Warburton: the opinion they suppose our author alludes to, is, that the saleness of the sea is caused by several ranges or mounds of rock-falt under water, with which resolving liquor the sea was impregnated. The whole of this seems to be a good deal in the manner of Ana. ercan's celebrated drinking ode, too well known to be inserted here.

(18) Methinks, kc.] Sce Orbullo, p. 205.

SCENE II. Difference betwixt Promise and Per

formance. Promifing is the very air of the time, it opens the eyes of expectation. Performance is ever the duller for its act, and but in the plain and fimpler kind of people, the deed is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will or testiment, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.

Scene V. Wrong and Infolence,

Now breathless wrong
Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of case ;
And pursy infolence shall break his wind
With fear and horrid flight.

General Observations.

THE story of the Misanthrope (says Farmer) is told in almost every collection of the time, and particularly in two books, with which Shakespear was intimately acquainted, the Palace of Pkafure, and the English Plutarch. Indeed from a paffage in an old play, cailed Jack Drum's Entertainment, I conjecture that lie had before made his appearance on the stage.

THE play of Timon (says Johnson) is a domestic tragedy, and therefore strongly fastens on the attention of the Reader. In the plan there is not much art, but the incidents are natural, and the characters various and exact. The catastrophe affords a very powerful warning against that oftentatious liberality, which scatters bounty, but confers no benefits, and buys flattery, but not friendship.

In this tragedy, are many passages perplexed, obscure, and probably corrupt, which I have endeavoured to rectify, or explain, with due diligence; but having only one copy, cannot promise myself that my endeavours shall be much applauded.

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ILT thou draw near the nature of the Gods?

Draw near them then in being merciful; Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge,

SCENE III. Thanks.

Thanks, to men Of noble minds is honourable meed.

SCENE IV. An Invitation to Love. (2) The birds chant melody on every bush, The snake lies rolled in the chearful sun,

The (1) Wilt, &c.] This, as Mr.Whalley has observed, is directly the sense and words of a passage in one of Cicero's finest orations: Homines ad Deos nulla re propius accedunt, quam falutem hominibus dando. Orat. pro Legar. fub. fin. See Enquiry into the learning of Shakespear, p. 64. (2) The birds, &c.]

Nobilis æftivas platanus, &c.
A plain diffus'd its bow'ring verdure wide
Withi trembling pines, which to the Zephyrs figh'd:
Laurels with herries crown'd, the boughs inwove,
And the soft cypress, ever whisp’ring love:

Midst these a brook in winding murmurs stray'd,
Chiding the pebbles over which it play'd,
'Twas love's Elysium. Petron. Arb. by Addison, junior.

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