Apem. Here, I will mend thy feaft.

Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend my own, by th' lack of thine. Tim. 'Tis not well mended fo, it is but botcht; If not, I would it were.

Ajem. What wouldst thou have to Athens?

Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind; if thou wilt, Tell them there, I have gold; look, fo I have. Apem. Here is no ufe for gold.

Tim. The beft and trueft:

For here it fleeps, and does no hired harm.
Apem. Where ly'ft o'nights, Timon ?
Tim. Under that's above me.

Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus?

Apem. Where my ftomach finds meat; or rather, where I eat it.

Tim. 'Would poifon were obedient, and knew my mind! Apem, Where wouldst thou fend it?

Tim. To fawce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou waft in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mockt thee for too much curiofity: in thy rags thou knoweft none, but art defpis'd for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate I feed not.

Apem. Doft hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An th' hadft hated medlars fooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now.

What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means. Tim. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myfelf.

Tim. I understand thee, thou hadft fome means to keep a dog.

Apem. What things in the world canft thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim. Women neareft; but men, men, are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power ?

Арет

Apem. Give it the beafts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Wouldst thou have thyfelf fall in the confufion of men, or remain a beaft with the beafts ?

Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beaftly ambition, which the Gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert a lion, the fox would beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion would fufpect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by the afs; if thou wert the afs, thy dulnefs would torment thee; and ftill thou liv'dft but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee; and oft thou fhouldft hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own felf the conqueft of thy fury. Wert thou a bear, thou wouldst be kill'd by the horse; wert thou a horfe, thou wouldst be feiz'd by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the fpots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life, all thy fafety were remotion, and thy defence abfence. What beaft couldft thou be, that were not fubject to a beaft? and what a beast art thou already, and feeft not thy lofs in transformation!

Apem. If thou couldft pleafe me with speaking to me, thou might'ft have hit upon it here.

The Common

wealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the City?

Apem. Yonder comes a Poet, and a Painter. The plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I know not what else

to do, I'll fee thee again.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, thou fhalt be welcome.

I had rather be a Beggar's dog, than Apemantus.
Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
Tim. 'Would, thou wert clean enough to spit upon.

A plague on thee! (24)

(24) Plague on thee!

Apem

Apem. Thou art too bad to curfe.] In the former Editions,

Apem. Thou art too bad to curfe.

Tim. All villains, that do ftand by thee, are pure. Apem. There is no leprofy but what thou speak'ft. Tim. If I name thee. I'll beat thee; but I fhould

infect my hands.

Apem I would my tongue could rot them off!
Tim. Away, thou iffue of a mangy dog!

Choler does kill me, that thou art alive:

I fwoon to fee thee.

Apem. 'Would, thou wouldst burst!

Tim. Away, thou tedious rogue, I am forry I fhall lose a stone by thee.

Apem. Beaft!

Tim. Slave!

Apem. Toad!

Tim. Rogue! rogue! rogue!

[Apem. retreats backward, as going.

I am fick of this falfe world, and will love nought
But ev❜n the mere neceffities upon it.
Then, Timon, prefently prepare thy grave;
Lie where the light foam of the fea may
beat
Thy grave-ftone daily; make thine epitaph;
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

[Looking on the gold. 'Twixt natural fon and fire! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's pureft bed! thou valiant Mars!

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, Whofe Blush doth thaw the confecrated fnow,

That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible God,

That foldreft clofe impoffibilities,

And mak'ft them kifs! that speak'ft with every tongue,
To every purpose! Oh, thou touch of hearts!
Think, thy flave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beafts
May have the world in empire.

this whole Verfe was placed to Apemantus? by which, abfurdly, he was made to curfe Timon, and immediately to fubjoin that he was too bad to curfe. My Divifion entirely cures the Absurdity; and makes Apemantus reply in Character.

Apem.

Apem. 'Would 'twere fo,

But not till I am dead! I'll fay, thou hast gold :
Thou wilt be throng'd to fhortly..

Tim. Throng'd to?

Арет. Ау.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee

Apem. Live, and love thy mifery!

Tim. Long live fo, and fo die! I am quit.
Apem. More things like men

abhor them.

Enter Thieves.

Eat, Timon, and [Exit Apem.

1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is fome poor fragment, fome flender ort of his remainder. The mere want of gold, and the falling off of friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Thief. It is nois'd, he hath a mafs of treafure.

3 Thief. Let us make the affay upon him; if he care not for't, he will fupply us eafily: if he covetously referve it, how fhall's get it?

2 Thief. True: for he bears it not about him: 'tis hid. 1 Thief. Is not this he?

All. Where?

2 Thief. 'Tis his description.
3 Thief. He; I know him.
All. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves.}

All. Soldiers; not thieves.

Tim. Both too, and women's fons.

All. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meet. (25)

(25) you want much of meat.] Thus both the Player, and poetical Editors have given us this Paffage; quite Sand-blind, as honeft Launcelet fays, to our Author's Meaning. If these poor Thieves wanted Meat, what greater Want could they be curs'd with, as they could not live on grafs and berries, and water? but I dare warrant, the Poet wrote;

you want much of meet.

i. e. Much of what you ought to be; much of the Qualities befitting you as human Creatures.

Why,

Why should you want? behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth an hundred fprings;
The oaks bear mafts, the briars scarlet hips:
The bounteous hufwife nature on each bush
Lays her full mefs before you.

Want? why want?

Thief. We cannot live on grafs, on berries, water, As beafts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beafts 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 fhapes; for there is boundless theft
In limited profeffions. Rafcals, thieves,

Here's gold. Go, fuck the fubtle blood o'th' grape,
"Till the high fever feeth your blood to froth,
And fo 'fcape hanging. Truft not the physician,
His antidotes are poifon, and he flays

More than you rob. Take wealth, and live together.
Do villany, do, fince you profess to do't,

Like workmen; I'll example you with thievery.
The fun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vaft fea. The moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire fhe fnatches from the fun.
The fea's a thief, whofe liquid furge refolves (26)
The mounds into falt tears. The earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a compofture ftol'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,

(26) The Sea's a Thief, whefe liquid Surge refolves

The Moon into jalt Tears.] The Sea melting the Mcon into Tears, is, I believe, a Secret in Philofophy, which no body but Shakefpeare's deep Editors ever dreamed of. There is another Opinion, which 'tis more reafonable to believe that our Author may allude to; viz. that the Saltnefs of the Sea is caufed by feveral Ranges, or Mounds of Roch-Salt under Water, with which refolving Liquid the Sea was impregnated. This I think a fufficient Authority for changing Moon into Mounds: and I am ftill the more confirmed, because Mr. Warburton, who did not know I had touch'd the Place, fen me up the very fame Correction.

VOL. VI.

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