see no kind of confusion in it. Why might he not look for an answer to his question? [What particular rarity, what uncommon article do you bring] immediately after the lines which follow it, 'See,' &c. (only two in number,) and which are thrown in parenthe. tically, apostrophizing Timon on account of his liberality? Magic of bounty! [bountiful magician] behold the effect of thy power.' The whole, I think, is sufficiently clear, and nothing but Johnson's objections to the passage could have put me on an explanation of it. B. Poet. Our gentle flame Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies Each bound it chafes. -and, like the current, flies Each bound it chafes. Thus the folio reads, and rightly. In later editions-chases. WARB. This speech of the poet is very obscure. He seems to boast the copiousness and facility of his vein, by declaring that verses drop from a poet as gums from odoriferous trees, and that his flame kindles itself without the violence necessary to elicit sparkles from the flint. What follows next? that it, like a current, flies each bound it chafes. This may mean, that it expands itself notwithstanding all obstructions: but the images in the comparison are so ill-sorted, and the effect so obscurely expressed, that I cannot but think something cmitted that connected the last sentence with the former. It is well known that the players often shorten speeches to quicken the representation: and it may be suspected, that they sometimes performed their amputations with more haste than judgment. JoHN. and, like the current, flies Each bound it chafes.' This latter part of the passage has been totally misunderstood; and the punctuation is wrong. By current,' I do not understand, with the Editors, a stream or course of water, but air: and to such meaning I am the more particularly led by the word flies. Thus, in familiar language, we say, a current or stream of air. It is not the pronoun each which is employed in the following line, but the old word eche, which siguities moreover, yet. I would regulate and explain as follows: - Our gentle flame Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies. Eche (bound) it chafes.' The sense of the passage is this- The fire of the true poet is soon lighted up, and like to air it [flies], is dispersed, scattered afar. Moreover, and on the contrary, poesy, if bound up or put under any kind of constraint, chafes or grows angry.' The muses' votary will acknowledge my exposition to be just. B. Poet. This comes off well and excellent. -this comes off well and excellent.] By this we are to understand what the painters call the goings off of a picture, which requires the nicest execution. WARB. The note I understand less than the text. rises well from the canvas. C'est bien relevé. The meaning is-the figure What is meant by this term of applause I do not exactly know. It ●ccurs again in the Widow, by B. Jonson, Fletcher, and Middleton: "It comes off very fair yet." Again, in A Trick to catch the old One, 1616: " Put a good tale in his ear, so that it comes off cleanly, and there's a horse and man for us. I warrant thee." Again, in the first part of Marston's Antonio and Mellida: "Fla. Faith, the song will seem to come off hardly. "Calz. Troth, not a whit, if you seem to come off quickly." STEEV. By This comes off well.' comes off well,' I understand, this shews well, or this has a good effect. Poet. Admirable: How this grace Speaks his own standing? what a mental power Moves in this lip? to the dumbness of the gesture how this grace Speaks its own standing? This relates to the attitude of the figure; and means that it stands judiciously on its own centre. And not only so, but that it has a graceful standing likewise. Of which the poet in Hamlet, speaking of another picture, says: "A Station like the Herald, Mercury, which lines Milton seems to have had in view, where he says of Raphael: "At once on th' eastern cliff of Paradise "He lights, and to his proper shape returns. Like Maia's son he stood." WARB. This sentence seems to me obscure, and, however explained, not very forcible. This grace speaks his own stunding, is only, The gracefulness of this figure shews how it stands. I am inclined to think something corrupted. It would be more natural and clear thus: -how this standing、 Speaks his own graces ? How this posture displays its own gracefulness. But I will indulge conjecture further, and propose to read: -how this grace Speaks understanding? what a mental power This eye shoots forth? — JOHN. No one, I presume, is ignorant of the meaning of grace among painters; nor is he to be informed, that without this very essential. requisite, a picture, however finely colored, would be held, by counoisseurs, in little esteem. I am therefore inclined to explain the passage thus-here is grace indeed: here she shows her standing, i. e. her rank and importance. B. -To the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.] The allusion is to the puppet-shows, or motions, as they were termed in our author's time. The person who spoke for the puppets was called an interpreter. The sense of the passage is, 'This is nothing more than a picture; yet such is the liveliness of the representation, that the figure seems almost to speak, and we readily comprehend the painter's meaning.' I do not see that this has any reference to puppet-shows, motions, or interpreters. B. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. 'Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; ` The first line of Apemantus's answer is to the purpose; the second absurd and nonsensical; which proceeds from the loss of a speech dropt from between them, that should be thus restored: Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. 'Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow. Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest: WARB. I think my punctuation may clear the passage without any greater ef JouN. fort. Good morrow,' &c. I read the passage differently: Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus; Ap. Till I be gentle stay: for my good morrow, When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.' i. e." "Till I am become gentle withhold thy greetings:-for my. self, I say, that no good morrow' shall pass these lips, unless thou canst put off human shape, and take that of a dog." Such is the obvious meaning: the expression is elliptical. B. Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. That I had no angry wit, to be a lord.] This reading is absurd and unintelligible. But as I have restored the text, that I had so hungry s. wit, to be a lord, it is satirical enough of conscience, viz. I would hate myself, for having no more wit than to covet so insignificant a title. In the same sense Shakspeare uses lean-witted, in his Richard II. "And thou a lunatick, lean-witted fool." WARB. The meaning may be, I should hate myself for patiently enduring to be a lord. This is enough expressed. Perhaps some happy change may set it right. I have tried, and can do nothing, yet I cannot heartily concur with Dr. Warburton. JOHN. That I had no aug'ry wit to be a lord.' i.e. that I could not augur of my treatment, or what I was to experience in becoming a lord. The context will shew that I am right. B. Tim. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare If our betters play at that game, we must not dare These two lines are absurdly given to Timon. They should be read thus: Tin. If our betters play at that game, we must not. Apem. Dare to imitate them. Faults that are rich are fair. This is said satirically and in character. It was a sober reflection in Ti mon; who by our betters meant the gods, which require to be repaid for benefits received; but it would be impiety in men to expect the same observance for the trifling good they do. Apemantus, agreeably to his character, perverts this sentiment, as if Timon had spoken of earthly grandeur and potentates, who expect largest returns for their favors; and therefore, ironically replies as above. WARB. I cannot see that these lines are more proper in any other mouth than Timon's, to whose character of generosity and condescension they are very suitable. To suppose that by our betters are meant the gods is very harsh, because to imitate the gods has been hitherto reckoned the highest pitch of human virtue. The whole is a trite and obvious thought, uttered by Timon, with a kind of affected modesty. If I would make any alteration, it should only be to reform the numbers thus: Our betters play that game; we must not dare T'imitate them: faults that are rich are fair. JOHN. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare I think, with Johnson, that the speech belongs entirely to Timon. By our betters' he means not the gods, but those who were placed above him by their honors, if not by their riches, and of whom there were many in Athens. The critic talks, however, of reforming the numbers: to the first line he certainly has given smoothness, but to the second, by cutting off the vowel, the very reverse. B. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choak me, for I should Ne'er flatter thee. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choak me, for I should A very pretty reason why his meat would choak him, because he should never flatter him. We should read and point this nonsense thus: I scorn thy meat; 'twould choak me 'fore 1 should e'er flatter thee. i. e. before I should ever flatter thee. WARB. Of this emendation there is little need. The meaning is, I could not swallow thy meat, for I could not pay for it with flattery; and what was given me with an ill will would stick in my throat. JOHN. I scorn thy meat, for it would choak me: I should never flatter thee.' A slight transposition should be made: I scorn thy meat, for I should never flatter thee.' Here the absurdity in the reasoning is removed: the consequent because' being then in reference to the meat only. Apemantus scorns the meat, for that he cannot gain it -as all of Timon's followers do,-by flattery. He then adds, 'twould choak me,' which is merely expressive of his aversion from a lord, of his contempt of title, of worldly honors. B. Rich men sin.] Dr. Farmer proposes to read sing. EDIT. -So fall to't: Rich men sin, and I eat root.' There is something wrong here. The construction is not that rich men sin: I am of opinion that sin was written sin', contracted of sincerity. I make a change in the punctuation, and read: So fall to't Rich men: sin' and I eat root.' i. e. 'Rich men! feed on your delicious viands: honesty and I eat roots.' It must not be objected that the contraction is violent: many of the like nature are found in Shakspeare. B. Tim. How had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in your behalf. How had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands.] The Oxford editor alters charitable titles to character and title. He did not know that charitable signifies, dear, endearing; nor consequently understood what Milton meant by, "Relations dear, and all the charities "Of father, son, and brother-" Alms in English, are called charities, and from thence we may collect that our ancestors knew well in what the virtue of almsgiving consisted not in the act, but in the disposition. WARB. Did not you chiefly belong to my heart?] I think it should be inverted thus: did I not cluefly belong to your hearts. Lucius wishes that Timon would give him and the rest an opportunity of expressing some part of their seals. Timon answers that, doubtless the gods have provided that I should have help from you; how else are you my friends? why are you stiled my friends, if-what? if I do not love you. Such is the present reading; but the consequence is not very clear: the proper close must be, if you do not love me, and to this my alteration restores it. But, perhaps, the old reading may stand. Jonn. How had you been my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your behalf.', This is obscure by reason of the punctuation, and from the misplacing of the interrogatory note: we may read, How had you been my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from thousands ? Did not you chiefly belong to my heart, I have [yet] told more of you to myself, than you can modestly speak in your behalf.' This latter part of the sentence, Did not you, &c.' is not to be considered as having a conditional, but absolute form. B. · Tim. Mine eyes cannot hold water, methinks: to forget their faults, I drink to you. Mine eyes, &c.] In the original edition the words stand thus: Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their faults, I drink to you. Perhaps the true reading is this, Mine eyes cannot hold out; they |