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 witness; 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 fairest 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 ufe my own words to him? Ser. Yes, Sir, I fhall. [Exit Servilius. Luc. I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. True, as you faid, Timon is fhrunk indeed; And he that's once deny'd will hardly speed. SCENE VI. Against Duelling. [Exit. Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd Is valour mif-begot, and came into the world, The worst that man can breathe, (3) and make his wrongs His outfides, wear them like his raiment, carelefly; (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 care. lefly. ACT ACT IV. SCENE I Without the Walls of Athens. Timon's Execrations on the Athenians. Let me look back upon thee, O, thou wall, : Do't in your parents' eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast; On Athens, ripe for ftroke! Thou cold fciatica, Be Be merely poifon. Nothing I'll bear from thee, SCENE II. A Friend for faken. As we do turn our backs From our companion, thrown into his grave, With his difeafe of all-fhun'd poverty, Walks, like contempt, alone. SCENE III. On Gold. (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, fays, Thou art virtue, fame, Honour and all things elfe! who can get thee He fhall be noble, valiant, honest, wise Mofe. And what he will, fir.. Act. 1. Sc. I. Which lines are an exact tranflation of the following from Ho... race; Omnis enim res Virtus, fama, decus, divira humanaque pulebris Clari (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 knit and break religions; blefs th' accurs'd; Clarus erit fortis, juftus, fapiens; etiam & rex She, 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. Or, O thou thund'rer's fon, great Hercules, (7) Waped, i. e. forrowful, mournful. Ben Fonfon, in the 5th act of the fame play we mentioned but now, obferves, That gold transforms The most deformed, and reftores them lovely, 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, façoσur, &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-house and ulcerous fores SCENE IV. Timon to Alcibiades. Go on, here's gold, go on ; Herfelf's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe, Whofe dimpled fmiles from fools extort (8) their mercy : Think it a baftard, whom the oracle Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat fhall cut, Whofe proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, To the Courtexans. Confumptions fow In hollow bones of man, ftrike their sharp fhins, (8) ExtortOxford editor, vulg. exhauft. And |