I'll take the gold thou giv'ft me, not thy counsel.
Ti. Doft thou,or doft thou not, heav'n's curfe upon thee!
Both. Give us fome gold, good Timon: haft thou more?
Tim. Enough to make a whore forfwear her trade,
And to make whole a bawd, (21) Hold up, you fluts,
Your aprons mountant; you're not othable,
Although, I know, you'll fwear; terribly fwear
Into ftrong fhudders, and to heav'nly agues,
Th' immortal Gods that hear you. Spare your oaths;
I'll trust to your conditions, be whores ftill.
And he whose pious breath feeks to convert you,
Be ftrong in whore, allure him, burn him up.
Let your close fire predominate his fmoke,
And be no turn-coats: yet may your pains fix months
Be quite contrary. Make falfe hair, and thatch
Your poor thin roofs with burdens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd, no matter:
Wear them, betray with them; and whore on ftill:
Paint 'till a horfe may mire' upon your face;
Believe, that we'll do any thing for gold.
Tim. Comfumptions fow
In hollow bones of man, ftrike their fharp fhins,
And mar mens' fpurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more falfe title plead,
Nor found his quillets fhrilly. Hoar the Flamen,
That fcolds against the quality of flesh,
(21) And to make whore a Bawd] The Power of Gold, indeed, may be fuppofed great, that can make a Whore forfake her Trade; but what mighty Difficulty was there in making a Whore turn Bawd And yet, 'tis plain, here he is defcribing the mighty Power of Gold. He had before fhewn, how Gold can perfuade to any Villainy; he now fhews that it has ftill a greater Force, and can even turn from Vice to the Practice, or, at leaft, the Semblance of Virtue. We muft therefore read, to restore Senfe to our Author,
i. e. not only to make her quit her Calling, bnt thereby restore her to Reputation,
And not believes himself. Down with the nofe,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to forefee
Smellsfromthegen'ralweal.Makecurl'dpate
And let the unfcarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive fome pain from you. Plague all;
That your activity may defeat, and quell
The fource of all erection.- -There's more gold.
you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!
Both. More counfel with more money, bounteous Timon. Tim. More whore, more mifchief, firft; I've given you earnest.
Alc. 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 fpok'ft well of me.
Alc. Call'ft thou that harm ?
Tim. Men daily find it.
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 breast.
Teems, and feeds all; oh thou! whofe felf-fame metal.
(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 quick'ning 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.
Go great with tygers, dragons, wolves and bears,
Teem with new monfters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled manfion all above
Never prefented-
-O, a root-dear thanks :
Dry up thy marrows, veins, and plough-torn leas,
Whereof ingrateful man with liqu❜rish draughts,
And morfels unctious, greafes his pure mind,
That from it all confideration flips.-
Enter Apemantus.
More man? plague! plague!
Apem. I was directed hither. Men report,
Thou doft affect my manners, and doft ufe them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate; confumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected,
A poor unmanly melancholy, fprung
From change of fortune. Why this fpade? this place?
This flave-like habit, and these looks of care?
Thy flatt'rers yet wear filk, drink wine, lie foft;
Hug their difeas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was: Shame not these weeds, (22)
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatt'rer now, and feek to thrive
By that which has undone thee; hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou'lt obferve,
Blow off thy cap; praise his moft vicious ftrain,,
And call it excellent. Thou waft told thus :
Thou gav'ft thine ears, like tapfters, that bid welcome
To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis moft juft
That thou turn rafcal: hadft thou wealth again,
Rafcals fhould have't. Do not affume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. Thou'ft caft away thyfelf, being like thyfelf,
So long a mad-man, now a fool. What, think'ft thou,
(22) Shame not thefe Woods ] But how did Timon any more fhame the Woods by affuming the Character of a Cynick, than Apemantus did? the Poet certainly meant to make Apemantus fay, Don't dif grace 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 restore,
Apemantus, in feveral other Paffages of the Scene, reproaches him with his Change of Garb.
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy fhirt on warm? will thefe, moift trees,
That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'ft out? will the cold brook,
Canded with ice, cawdle thy morning tafte
To cure thy o'er-night's furfeit? Call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the fpight
Of wreakful heav'n, whofe bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
O! thou shalt find
Fim. A fool of thee; depart.
Apem. I love thee better now, than e'er I did..
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Tim. Thou flatt'ref mifery.
Apem. I flatter not; but fay, thou art a caytif
Tim. Why doft thou seek me out?
Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's.. Do'ft please thy felf in't
Tim. What! a knave too?
Apem. If thou didst put this four cold habit on
To caftigate thy pride," 'twere well, but thou
Doft it enforcedly: thou'dft Courtier be,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing mifery
Out-lives incertain pomp ; is crown'd before
The one is filling fill, never compleat;
(23) Tim. Always a Villain's Office or a Fool's.
Do'ft pleafe thyfelf in't?
Tim. What! a knave too ?] Mr. Warburton propofes a Cor rection here, which, tho' it opposes the Reading of all the printed Copies, has great Juftness and Propriety in it. He would read;
The Reasoning of the Text, as it ftands in the Books, is, in fome fort, concluding backward: or rather making a Krave'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 Foel."
The other, at high with: Beft ftates, contentless,
Have a distracted and moft wretched Being;
Worfe than the worst, content.
Thou shouldft defire to die, being miserable.
Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miferable.
Thou art a flave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clafpt; but bred a dog.
Hadft thou, like us, from our firft fwath proceeded
Through fweet degrees that this brief world affords,
To fuch, as may the paffive drugs of it
Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thyfelf
In general riot, melted down thy youth
In different beds of luft, and never learn'd
The icy precepts of refpect, but followed
The fugar'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 ftuck, as leaves
Do on the oak; have with one winter's brufh
Fall'n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every form that blows. I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is fome burden.
Thy nature did commence in fuff'rance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldft thou hate men?
They never flatter'd thee. What haft thou giv'n ?
If thou wilt curfe, thy father, that poor rag,
Muft be thy fubject; who in fpight put ftuff
To fome the-beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone-
If thou hadft not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been knave and flatterer.
Apem. Art thou proud yet?
Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Apem. I, that I was no prodigal.
Tim. I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I have, fhut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone-
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it.
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