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Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
giv'st me, Not all thy counsel. Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse
upon thee! · Phr. & Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon:
Hast thou more? Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable, Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear, Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues, The immortal gods that hear you,-spare your oaths, I'll trust to your conditions:8 Be whores still; And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; Let your close fire predominate his smoke, And be no turncoats: Yeț may your pains, six
months, Be quite contrary: And thatch your poor thin roofs With burdens of the dead; some that were hang’d, No matter:-wear them, betray with them: whore
. bastard,] An allusion to the tale of Oedipus.
S Swear against objects;] Against objects is, against objects of charity and compassion.
• I'll trust to your conditions:] I will trust to your inclinations, or rather vocations.
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face:
Phr. & Timan. Well, more gold;—What then? Believ't, that we'll do any thing for gold.
Tim. Consumptions sow In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, That he may never more false title plead, Nor sound his quillets shrilly:7 hoar the flamen, That scolds against the quality of flesh, And not believes himself: down with the nose, Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away Of him, that his particular to foresee, Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
ruffians bald; And let the unscarr’d braggarts of the war Derive some pain from you: Plague all; That your activity may defeat and quell The source of all erection.—There's more gold: Do you damn others, and let this damn you, And ditches grave you all!! Phr. * Timan. More counsel with more money,
bounteous Timon. Tim. More whore, more mischief first; I have
given you earnest.
? Nor sound his quillets shrilly :] Quillets are subtilties. S h oar the flamen,] This may mean,-Give the flamen the hoary leprosy.
9 that his particular to foresce,] The metaphor is apparently incongruous, but the sense is good. To foresee his particular, is to provide for his private advantage, for which he leaves the right scent of publick good.
And ditches grave you all!] To grave is to entomb. The word is now obsolete, though sometimes used by Shakspeare and his contemporary authors.
Tim. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.
Call'st thou that harm?
We but offend him.-Strike.
Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA,
and TIMANDRA. Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry!--Common mother, thou,
[Digging. Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, 2 Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff’d, Engenders the black toad, and adder blue, The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm,3 With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; Yjeld him, who all thy human sons doth hate, From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above Never presented! O, a root,- Dear thanks! Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;" Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts, And morsels unctuous,, greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips !
2 Whose--infinite breast ] means whose boundless surface. · S e yeless renom'd worm, ] The serpent, which we, from the smallness of his eyes, call the blind-worm, and the Latins, cæciha.
4- below crisp heaven ] i. e, curled, bent, hollow.
5 Dry up thy marrows, rines, and plow-torn leas;] The sense is this: 0 nature! cease to produce men, ensear thy womb; but if thou wilt continue to produce them, at least cease to paniper them; dry up thy marrows, on which they fatten with unctuous morsels, thy rines, which give them liquorish draughts, and thy plow-torn leas.
Enter APEMANTUS. More man? Plague! plague!
Apem. I was directed hither: Men report, Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected; A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade? this
place? This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, .. Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious, strain, And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus; Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid wel
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
thyself; A madmaņ so long, now a fool: What, think'st * That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
the cunning of a carper,] i. e. the insidious art of a
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moss'd trees, That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels, ' And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook, Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,
: A fool of thee: Depart.
Thou flatter'st misery,
To vex thee.
What! a knave too ??
Tim. i love thce best fool of thee
" What ! a knave too?] Timon had just called Apemantus fool, in consequence of what he had known of him by former acquaintance; but when Apemantus tells him that he comes to rex him, Timon determines that to rex is either the office of a villain or a fool; that to rex by design is rillainy, to rex without design is folly. He then properly asks Apemantus whether he takes delight in vering, and when he answers, yes, Timon replies, ---What? a knave too? I before only knew thee to be a fool, but now I find thee likewise a knate, JoinvSON.