Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

Oh, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory, as to live
But in a dream of friendship?
To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
But only painted, like his varnish'd friends!
Poor honest Lord ! brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodness : ftrange unusual blood,
When man's worst fin is, he does too much good,
Who then dares to be half so kind again ?
For bounty, that makes gods, does Itill mar men.
My deareft Lord, bleft to be most accurs’d,
Rich only to be wretched; thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind Lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful seat
Of monstrous friends: nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it :
I'll follow, and enquire him out.
I'll ever ferve his mind with my best will ;
Whilft I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit.

SCENE, the Woods,

Enter Timon.
Sim. Blessed, breeding fun, draw from the earth

Rotten humidity : below thy sister's orb
Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth
Scarce is dividant, touch with several fortunes ;
The greater

scorns the lesser. Not ev’n nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and denude that Lord, (22)

The (22) Raise me this beggar, and deny't that Lord,} Where is the Sense and English of deny't that Lord ? Deny him what? What pre. ceding noun is there, to which the pronoun' it is to be referr'd? And it would be absurd to think the poet meant, deny to raise that Lord. The antitbefis must be, Jet fortune raise this beggar, and let her firipo

and

The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:
It is the pasture lards the weather's fides, (23)
The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who daresi
la purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, this man's a flatterer : if one be,
So are they all, for every greeze of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique;
There's nothing level in our.cursed natures,
But direct villainy. Then be abhorr’d,
All feasts, focieties, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.
Destruction phang mankind! earth, yield me roots!

[Digging the earth. and despoil that Lord of all his pomp and ornaments, &c. which senfe is compleated by this light alteration, and denude that Lord.

Mr. Warburtona I will beg leave to add, in confirmation of my friend's fine conjecture, that our author has contrafted the same thought, only varying the terms, in his Venus and Adonis, Stanz, 192.

Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures. (23) It is the pasture lards the beggar's fides.] This, as the editors bave ordered it, is an idle repetition at the best ; fupfofing it did, indeed, contain the same sentiment as the foregoing lines. But Shakespeare meant a quite different thing: and having, like a sensible wri. ter, made a smart obfervation, he illuftrates it by a fimilitude thus:

It is the pasture lards the weather's fides,

The want that makes bim lean. And the fimilitude is extremely beautiful, as conveying this fatirical reflection; there is no more difference between man and man the esteem of superficial or corrupt judgments, than between a fat sheep and a lean one.

Mr. W'arburton, I cannot better praise the sagacity of my friend's emendation, than by producing the reading of the first folio edition, (which, I know, he had not seen,) where we find it thus exhibited;

It is the pature lards the brother's sides, &c. Every knowing reader will agree, that this corruption might much more naturally, be derived from weat ber's, than from beggar's, as far as the traces of the letters are concern’d; especially, in the old secretary hand-writing, the universal character in our author's time. I will only add, that our poet, in his As you like it, makes a clown say the very same thing in a more ludicrous manner.

That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn; that good jure makes fat sheep ; &c. VOL. VI. H

Who

[ocr errors]

Who seeks for better of thee, fause his palate
With thy most operant poison !- What is here?
Gold ? yellow, glittering, precious gold?
No, gods, I am no idle voiarift.
Roots, you clear heav'ns! thus much of this will make
Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;
Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.
You gods! why this ? what this ? you gods! why, this
Will lug your priests and servants from your fides:
Pluck stout mens pillows from below their heads.
This yellow flave
Will knit and break religions; bless th' accurs'd ;
Make the hoar leprosy ador’d: place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench : this is it,
That makes the wappen'd widow wed again ;
She, whom the spittle-house and ulcerous fores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To th’ April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'ft odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature.- [March afar of:] Ha, a drum!

thou'rt quick,
But yet I'll bury thee-thou'lt go, (ftrong thief)
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping fome gold.
Enter Alcibiades with drum and fife in warlike manner,

and Phrynia and Timandra. Alc. What art thou there! speak.

Tim. A beast, as thou art. Cankers gnaw thy heart, For shewing me again the eyes of man!

Alc. What is thy name is man fo hateful to thee, That art thyself a man?

Tim. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do with thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Alc. I know thee well :
But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd, and strange.
Tim. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee,

I

I not defire to know. Foilow thy drum,
With man's blood paint the ground; gules, gules ;
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubim look.

Phry. Thy lips rot off!

Tim. I will not kiss thee, then the rot returns To thine own lips again.

Alc. How came the noble Timon to this change?

Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give :
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no funs to borrow of.

Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?
Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.
Alc. What is it, Timon ?
Tim, Promise me friendship, but perform none.

If thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man: if thou doft perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alc. I've heard in fome sort of thy miseries.
Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity.
Alc. I see them now, then was a blessed time.
Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots,

Timan. Is this the Atheniar minion, whom the world Voic'd fo regardfully

Tim. Art thou Timandra?
Timan. Yes.

Tim. Be a whore ftill: they love thee not, that use thee:
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their luft ;
Make use of thy falt hours, season the flaves
For tubs and baths, bring down the rose-cheek'd youth
To th’ tub-fast, and the diet. (24)

Timan. (24) To the fubfast, and the diet.] One might make a very long and vain search, yet not be able to meet with this preposterous word fubfaft, which has notwithftanding pass'd current with all the editors, The author is alluding to to the Lues Venerea, and its effects. At that time, the cure of it was perform’d either by Guaiacum, or Mercurial unctions; and in both cases the patient was kept up very warm and close; that in the first application the sweat might be promoted ; and

left,

H 2

Timan. Hang thee, monster!

Alc. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and loft in his calamities.
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penarious band. I heard and griev'd,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them

Tim. I pr’ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alc. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

Tim. How dost thou pity him, whom thou doit trouble? I'ad rather be alone.

Alc. Why, fare thee well,
Here's gold for thee.

Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it,
Alc. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-
Tim. Warr'lt thou 'gainst Athens?
Alc. Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim. The gods confound them all then in thy conquest, And, after, thee, when thou haft conquered !

Alc. Why me, Timon ? Jest, in the other, he should take cold, which was fatal. “ The “ regimen for the course of Guaiacum (says Dr. Friend in his hift. of pbyfick, Vol. 2. p. 380.) was at first itrangely circumstantial; and Si so rigorous, that the patient was put into a dungeon in order to « make him sweat; and in that manner, as Fallopius expresses it, " the bones and the very man himself was macerated.” And as far the unition, it was sometimes continued for thirty-seven days; (as he abferves, p. 375) and during this time there was necessarily an extra. ordinary abftinence requir’d.

Mr. Warburton. Sbakespeare himself, I remember, in another of his plays, alludes to the custom of this tub-discipline.

Meas. for Meas. Act 3. where the clown is speaking of the bawd;

'T:oth, Sir, me hath eaten up all her beef, and the is herself in the tubo And Beaumont and Fletcher in the Knight of the Burning Peftle;

Pris'ners of mine, whom I in diet keep,
Send lower down into the cave,
And in a tub, that's heated smoaking hot,

There may they find them, &c. And afterwards, in the same play, some of these pin'd prisoners are produc'd, complaining of their sub-sweat, and spare-diet. But enough of these unfavoury proofs.

« AnteriorContinuar »