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against fuch a good time, when I might ha' fhewn myfelf honourable. How unlucky it happen'd, that I fhould purchase the day before for a little part, and undo a great deal of honour? Servilius, now before the gods, I am not able to do-(the more beast I fay,)—I was fending to use Lord Timon myself, these gentlemen can witnefs; but I would not for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship, and I hope his honour will conceive the faireft of me, because I have no power to be kind. And tell him this from me, I count it one of my greatest afflictions, fay, that I cannot pleafure fuch an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me fo far as to use my own words to him?

Ser. Yes, Sir, I fhall.

[Exit Servilius.

Luc. I'll look you out a good turn, Servilias.
True, as you faid, Timon is fhrunk indeed;
And he that's once deny'd will hardly speed.


SCENE VI. Against Duelling.

Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd To bring man-flaughter into form, fet quarrelling Upon the head of valour, which, indeed, Is valour mif-begot, and came into the world, When fects and factions were but newly born. He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer

The worst that man can breathe, (3) and make his


His outfides, wear them like his raiment, carelefly;
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.

(3) And make, &c.] The firft part of the fentence is explained by the latter, "He's truly valiant, &c. that can make his wrongs his outfides, i. e. wear them like his raiment carelefly.


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Without the Walls of Athens.

Timon's Execrations on the Athenians.

Let me look back upon thee, O, thou wall, That girdleft in those wolves! dive in the earth, And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent; Obedience fail in children; flaves and fools Pluck the grave wrinkled fenate from the bench, And minister in their fteads to general filths Convert o' th' inftant green virginity! Do't in your parents' eyes. Bankrupts, hold faft; Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trufters' throats. Bound fervants, steal Large-handed robbers your grave mafters are; And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; Thy miftrefs is o' th' brothel. Son of fixteen, Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping fire, And with it beat his brains out! Fear and piety, Religion to the gods, peace, juftice, truth, Domeftic awe, night-reft, and neighbourhood, Inftruction, manners, myfteries, and trades, Degrees, obfervances, cuftoms, and laws, Decline to your confounding contraries! And yet confufion live!-Plagues, incident to men, Your potent and infectious fevers heap On Athens, ripe for ftroke! Thou cold fciatica, Cripple our fenators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their manners. Luft and liberty Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, That 'gainst the ftream of virtue they may ftrive, And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, Sow all th' Athenian bofoms, and their crop. Be general leprofy: breath infect breath, That their fociety (as their friendship) may


Be merely poifon. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But nakedness, thou deteftable town!

SCENE II. A Friend for faken.

As we do turn our backs


From our companion, thrown into his-
So his familiars from his buried fortunes
Slink all away; leave their falfe vows with him,.
Like empty purfes pick'd: and his poor felf,
(4) A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-fhun'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone.


(5) What is here? Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold?

(6) No,

(4) A dedicated, &c.] In Romeo and Juliet, at the beginning, he fpeaks prettily of a bud bit by an envious worm,

Ere he can spread his fweet wings to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the fun.

In the next line, the author feems to have had his eye on that trite and well-known line of Ovid's ;

Nullus ad amiffas ibit amicus opes.

(5) What is, &c.] See page 30, of this volume. Ben Jonfen, in his Volpone, fpeaking of gold, says,

Thou art virtue, fame,

Honour and all things elfe! who can get thee
He fhall be noble, valiant, honest, wife-
Mofe. And what he will, fir.

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A&t. 1. Sc. I.

Which lines are an exact tranflation of the following from Ho...


Omnis enim res

Virtus, fama, decus, divira humanaque pulchris
Divitiis parent; quas qui confiruxerit, "ille


(6) No, gods, I am no idle votarist.
Roots, you clear heavens! thus much of this will make
Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;
Bafe, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.
You gods! why this? what this? you gods! why, this
Will lug your priests and fervants from your fides :
Pluck ftout mens' pillows from below their heads.
This yellow flave

Will knit and break religions; blefs th' accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprofy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With fenators on the bench: this is it,
That makes the (7) waped widow wed again;

Clarus erit fortis, juftus, fapiens; etiam & rex
Et quicquid volet

L. 2. S. 3.

I leave the learned Reader to judge, which of the two, this claffical bard, or our illiterate one, with his fall Latin and Greek, have best exprest the spirit and meaning of Horace.

(6) No, &c.] This is well explained, Mr. Warburton obferves, by the following lines of Perfius-Sat. 2. v. 10.

Et o fi
Sub raftro crepet argenti feria dextro


Or, O thou thund'rer's fon, great Hercules,
That once thy bounteous deity would please,
To guide my rake upon the chinking found
Of fome vaft treasure hidden under ground.

(7) Waped, i. e. forrowful, mournful. Ben Fonfon, in the 5th act of the fame play we mentioned but now, observes,

That gold transforms

The most deformed, and restores them lovely,
As 'twere the ftrange poetical girdle.

The old fellow is here again at his books, as if, the flighteft remark were not to proceed from his own brain, but to be midwiv'd by him into the world from the claffics. Lucian, in his Gallus, fays, Ofas oor, &c. You fee what mighty advantages goid produces, fince it transforms the most deformed, just as it were that famous poetical girdle.

She, whom the fpittle-houfe and ulcerous fores
Would caft 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.

SCENE IV. Timon to Alcibiades.

Go on, here's gold, go on ;

Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er fome high-vic'd city hang his poifon
In the fick air let not thy fword skip one:
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;
He is an ufurer. Strike me the matron,
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herfelf's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
Make foft thy trenchant fword: for those milk paps,
That through the window-lawn bore at mens' eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ;

Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe,
Whofe dimpled fimiles from fools extort (8) their


Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat fhall cut,
And mince it fans remorfe. Swear against objects,
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;
Whofe proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor fight of priest in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy foldiers.
Make large confufion; and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyfelf! Speak not, be gone.

To the Courtexans.

Confumptions fow

In hollow bones of man, ftrike their sharp fhins,

(8) ExtortOxford editor, vulg. exhauft.


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