His honesty rewards him in itself, It must not bear my daughter. Old. Ath. She is young and apt. Our own precedent paffions do inftruct us, Tim. [To Lucil.] Love you the maid? Luc. Ay, my good Lord, and fhe accepts of it. I call the Gods to witnefs, I will chufe Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, Tim. How fhall fhe be endowed, If fhe be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. Three talents on the prefent, in future all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath ferv'd me long; To build his fortune I will ftrain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: And make him weigh with her. Old Ath. Moft noble Lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.. Tim. My hand to thee, mine honour on my promife. Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordfhip: Never may That ftate, or fortune, fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [Exeunt Lucil. and old Ath.. Peet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your Lordship! Tim. I thank you, you fhall hear from me anon; Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of Painting, which I do befeech Your Lordship to accept. Tim. Painting is welcome. The Painting is almost the natural man; For fince difhonour trafficks with man's nature, I like your Work; Ev'n fuch as they give out. Pain. The Gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare ye, gentlemen. hand, Give me your We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Jew. What, my Lord, difpraise? Tim. A meer fatiety of commendations. If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, It would unclew me quite. Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated As thofe, which fell, would give; but you well know, Things of like value, differing in the owners, 2 Are by their masters priz'd. Believ't, dear Lord. You mend the jewel by the wearing it. Tim. Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good Lord, he speaks the common SCENE III. 3 Enter Apemantus. Will you be chid ? Jew. We'll bear it with your Lordship. 4 Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. 'Till I be gentle, ftay for thy good morrow. When thou art Timon's dog, and thefe knaves honeftTim. Why doft thou call them khaves, thou know'st them not? Apem. Are they not Athenians? Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, pemantus. Apem. Thou know'ft I do, I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus. Apem. Of nothing fo much, as that I am not like Timon. Tim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honeft Athenian's brains. Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How lik't thou this Picture, Apemantus? 3 Enter Apemantus.] See this character of a Cynic finely drawn by Lucian, in his Auction of the Philofophers; and how well ShakeSpeare has copied it. 4 Tim. Good morrow to thee, and thefe knaves boneft.] The first line of Apemantus's answer is to the purpofe; the fecond abfurd and nonfenfical; which pro VOL. VI. ceeds from the lofs of a speech dropt from between them, that fhould be thus reftored, Tim. Good morrow to thee, genthe Apemantus ! Apem. Till I be gentle, ftay for thy good morrow. [Poet. When will that be?] Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and thefe knaves honeft. WARBURTON I think my punctuation may clear the paffage without any greater effort. N t Apem. Apem. The beft for the innocence. Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it? Apem. He wrought better that made the Painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. Y'are a dog. Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; what's fhe, if I be a dog? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ? Apem. No, I eat not Lords.. Tim. If thou fhouldst thou'dft anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat Lords; fo they come by great bellies. Tim. That's a lafcivious apprehenfion. Apem. So, thou apprehend'ft. Take it for thy labour. Tim. How doft thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not fo well as Plain-dealing, which will not coft a man a doit. Tim. What think'st thou 'tis worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking. How now, Poet? Poet. How now, Philofopher? Apem. Thou lieft. Poet, Art thou not one? Apem. Yes. Poet. Then I lie not, Apem. Art not a Poet? Poet. Yes. Apem. Then thou lieft. Look in thy laft work, where thou haft feign'd him a worthy fellow. Poet. That's not feign'd, he is fo. Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He, that loves to be flatter'd, is worthy o' th' flatterer. Heav'ns, that I were a Lord! Tim. What would'ft do then, Apemantus? Apem. Ev'n as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with my heart. Tim. What, thyself? Tim: Tim. Wherefore? Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.Art thou not a Merchant? Mer. Ay, Apemantus. Apem. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not! Mer. If Traffick do it, the Gods do it. Apem. Traffick's thy God, and thy God confound thee ! Trumpets found. Enter a Meffenger. Tim. What trumpet's that? Mef. 'Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horse All of companionship. Tim. Pray entertain them, give them guide to us. You must needs dine with me. Go not you hence, 'Till I have thank't you; and when dinner's done, Shew me this piece. Enter Alcibiades with the reft. I'm joyful of your fights. Moft welcome, Sir! [Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, fo! Aches contract, and starve your fupple joints! That there should be small love amongst thefe fweet knaves, and all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey. 6 Alc. You have fav'd my longing, and I feed Moft hungerly on your fight. 5 That I had NO ANGRY wit, to be a lord.] This reading is abfurd, and unintelligible. But, as I have reftored the text, that I had fo hungry a wit, to be a lord, it is fatirical enough of confcience, viz. I would hate myfelf, for having no more wit than to covet fo infignificant a title. In the fame fenfe, Shakespeare ules 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 ill enough expreffed. Perhaps fome happy change may fet it right. I have tried, and can do nothing, yet I cannot heartily concur with Dr. Warburton. The Atrain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.] Man is exhaufted and degenerated; his rain or lineage is worn down into monkey. N 2 Tim. |