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And by the hazard of the spotted die,
All have not offended;
What thou wilt,
Set but thy foot
Throw thy glove;
Then there's my glove;
'Tis most nobly spoken. Alcib. Descend, and keep your words.
[The Senators descend, and open the Gates.
Enter a Soldier.
Entomb'd upon the very hem o'the sea:
[left! Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked caitiff's Here lie 1, Timon: who, alive, all living men did hate : Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here
thy gait. These well express in thee thy latter spirits : Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, Scorn'dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead Is noble Timon; of whose memory Hereafter more.-Bring me into your city, And I will use the olive with my sword: Make war breed peace; make peace stint war; make each Prescribe to other, as each other's leech. Let our drums strike.
The play of Timon 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 ostentatious 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 have endeavoured to rectify, or explain with due diligence; but having only one copy, cannot promise myself that my endeavours shall be much applauded.
C. Whittingham, Printer, Chiswick.