Page images

In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon : 4
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.5

Does she love him?
Old Ath. She is young,

and apt:

[ocr errors]

4 Therefore he will be, Timon :) The thought is closely expressed, and obscure: but this seems the meaning: “ If the man be honest, my lord, for that reason he will be so in this; and not en. deavour at the injustice of gaining my daughter without my consent” Warburton. I rather think an emendation necessary, and read:

Therefore well be him, Timon:

His honesty rewards him in itself
That is,

“ If he is honest, bene sit illi, I wish him the proper happiness of an honest man, but his honesty gives him no claim to my daughter." The first transcriber probably wrote-will be with him, which the next, not understanding, changed to,-he will be. Johnson.

I think Dr. Warburton's explanation is best, because it exacts
Ao change. So, in King Henry VIII:

May he continue
Long in his highness' favour; and do justice

For truth's sake and his conscience."
Again, more appositely, in Cymbeline:

“ This hath been
“ Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour

He will remain so.Steevens.
Therefore he will be, Timon:) Therefore he will continue to be
so, and is sure of being sufficiently rewarded by the conscious-
ness of virtue; and he does not need the additional blessing of a
beautiful and accomplished wife.

It has been objected, I forget by whom, if the old Athenian means to say that Lucilius will still continue to be virtuous, what occasion has he to apply to Timon to interfere relative to this marriage? But this is making Shakspeare write by the card. The words mean undoubtedly, that he will be bonest in his general conduct through life; in every other action except that now complained of. Malone.

bear my daughter.] A similar expression occurs in Oihello:

“ What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,
"If he can carry her thus !" Steevens.


Our own precedent passions do instruct us:
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [to Luc.] Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband ?6

Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future, all.

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; To build his fortune, I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I 'll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her. Old Ath.

Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never may That state of fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [Exeunt Luc. and old Ath. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lord

ship! Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon; Go not away.- What have you

there, my


. And dispossess her all. Tim.

How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband?] The players, those avowed enemies to even a common ellipsis, have here again disordered the metre by interpolation. Will a single idea of our au. thor's have been lost, if, omitting the useless and repeated words --she be, we should regulate the passage thus :

How shall she be
Endow'd, if mated with an equal husband? Steevens.

Never may

That state or fortune fall into my keeping,

Which is not ow'd to you!] The meaning is, let me never henceforth consider any thing that I possess, but as owed or due to you; held for your service, and at your disposal. Johnson. So Lady Macbeth says to Duncan:

“ Your servants ever
“ Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,
66 To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
"Ştill to return your own.


Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature;
He is but outside: These pencil'd figures are
Even such as they give out.8 I like your work;

shall find, I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.

The gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: Give me your hand; We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under praise. Jew.

What, my lord? dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extollid, It would unclew me quite.9 Jew.

My lord, 'tis rated As those, which sell, would give: But you well know, Things of like value, differing in the owners, Are prized by their masters:1 believe 't, dear lord, You mend the jewel by wearing it.2 Tim.

Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common

tongue, Which all men speak with him. Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid?

Enter APEMANTUS.3 Jew. We will bear, with your lordship.



- pencild figures are Even such as they give out.] Pictures have no hypocrisy; they are what they profess to be. Fohnson.

unclew me quite.] To unclew is to unwind a ball of thread. To unclew a man, is to draw out the whole mass of his fortunes.

Fohnson. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona:

“ Therefore as you unwind her love from him,

“ You must provide to bottom it on me.” Steevens. 1 Are prized by their masters :) Are rated according to the es. teem in which their possessor is held. Johnson.

- by wearing it.] Old copy-by the wearing it. Steevens. 3 Enter Apemantus.] See this character of a cynick finely drawn by Lucian, in his Auction of the Philosophers; and how well Shak. speare has copied it. Warburton.



He 'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, 5 and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st

them not. Apem. Are they not Athenians ?6 Tim. Yes. Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus. Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus. Apem. Of nothing'so much, as that I am not like TiTim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That 's a deed thou 'lt die for. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?


stay for -] Old copy-stay thou for. With Sir T. Han. mer I have omitted the useless thou, (which the compositor's eye might have caught from the following line,) because it disorders the metre. Steevens.

5 When thou art Timon's dog,) When thou hast gotten a better character, and instead of being Timon as thou art, shalt be changed to Timon's dog, and become more worthy kindness and salutation. Johnson.

This is spoken delx Titãs, as Mr. Upton says, somewbere:striking his hand on his breast.

“Wot you who named me first the kinge's dogge?” says Aris. tippus in Damon and Pythias. Farmer.

Apemantus, I think, means to say, that Timon is not to receive a gentle good morrow from him till that shall happen which never will happen; till Timon is transformed to the shape of his dog, and his knavish followers become honest men. Stay for thy good morrow, says he, till I be gentle, which will happen at the same time when thou art Timon's dog, &c. i. e. never. Malone.

Mr. Malone has justly explained the drift of Apemantus. Such another reply occurs in Troilus and Cressida, where Ulysses, desir. ous to avoid a kiss from Cressida, says to her; give me one

“ When Helen is a maid again,” &c. Steevens. 6 Are they not Athenians ?] The very imperfect state in which the ancient copy of this play has reached us, leaves a doubt whe. ther several short speeches in the present scene were designed for verse or prose. I have therefore made no attempt at regulation. Steevens.

pem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it?

Apem. He wrought better, that made the painter; and yet he 's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain. You are a dog.?

Apem. Thy mother 's of my generation; What 's she, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?
Apem. No; I eat not lords.
Tim. An thou should'st, thou ’ldst anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it; Take it for thy labour.
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit. Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?

pem. Not worth my thinking.--How now, poet?
Poet. How now, philosopher?
Apem. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one?
Apem. Yes.
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feign’d him a worthy fellow.

Poet. That 's not feign’d, he is so.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: He, that loves to be flattered, is worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus?
Apem. Eyen as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with

my heart.

Tim. What, thy self?
Anem. Ay.
Tim. Wherefore?

7. Pain. You are a dog.) This speech, which is given to the Painn ter in the old editions, in the modern ones must have been trans. ferred to the Poet by mistake: it evidently belongs to the former.

Ritson. 8 Not so well as plain-dealing,) Alluding to the proverb: “ Plain dealing is a jewel, but they that use it die beggars.” Steedens.

« PreviousContinue »