SCENE II.

The same.

Enter FLAVIUS, and Two Senators.

Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; For he is set so only to himself,

That nothing, but himself, which looks like man,

Is friendly with him.

1 Sen.

Bring us to his cave:

It is our part, and promise to the Athenians,

To speak with Timon.

2 Sen.

At all times alike

Men are not still the same: 'Twas time, and griefs,
That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
Offering the fortunes of his former days,

The former man may make him: Bring us to him,
And chance it as it may.

Flav.

Here is his cave.

Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians,
By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:
Speak to them, noble Timon.

Enter TIMON.

Tim. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!"-Speak, and be hang'd:

For each true word, a blister! and each false
Be as a caut'rizing to the root o' the tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

1 Sen.

Worthy Timon,

Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

8 Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!] "Thine eyes," says King Lear to Regan, "do comfort, and not burn."

A similar wish occurs in Antony and Cleopatra:

“O, sun,

"Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!" Steevens.

9 —a caut'rizing —] The old copy reads—cantherizing; the poet might have written, cancering. Steevens.

To cauterize was a word of our author's time; being found in Bullokar's English Expositor, octavo, 1616, where it is explained, "To burn to a sore." It is the word of the old copy, with the u changed to an n, which has happened in almost every one of these plays. Malone.

2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the

plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

1 Sen.

O, forget

What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.

The senators, with one consent of love,1

Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
On special dignities, which vacant lie

For thy best use and wearing.

2 Sen.

They confess,

Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:

Which now the publick body,2-which doth seldom
Play the recanter,-feeling in itself

A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal

Of its own fall,3 restraining aid to Timon;

4

And send forth us, to make their sorrowed render,5

1 with one consent of love,] With one united voice of affection. So, in Sternhold's translation of the 100th Psalm:

"With one consent let all the earth.”

All our old writers spell the word improperly, consent, without regard to its etymology, concentus. Malone.

This sense of the word consent, or concent, was originally pointed out and ascertained in a note on the first scene of The First Part of King Henry VI. See Vol. X, p. 10, n. 4. Steevens.

2 Which now the publick body,] Thus the old copy, ungrammatically certainly; but our author frequently thus begins a sentence, and concludes it without attending to what has gone before: for which perhaps the carelessness and ardour of colloquial language may be an apology. See Vol. II, p. 15, n. 4. So afterwards in the third scene of this Act:

“Whom, though in general part we were oppos'd,

"Yet our old love made a particular force,

"And made us speak like friends."

See also the Poet's last speech in p. 441.-Sir Thomas Hanmer and the subsequent editors read here more correctly-And now the publick body, &c. but by what oversight could Which be printed instead of And? Malone.

The mistake might have been that of the transcriber, not the printer. Steevens.

3 Of its own fall,] The Athenians had sense, that is, felt the danger of their own fall, by the arms of Alcibiades. Johnson.

4

restraining aid to Timon;] I think it should be refraining aid, that is, with-holding aid that should have been given to Timon. Johnson.

Where is the difference? To restrain, and to refrain, both mean to with-hold. M. Mason

Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;6
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the figures of their love,

Ever to read them thine.

Tim.

You witch me in it;

Surprize me to the very brink of tears:

Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I 'il beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return with us,
And of our Athens (thine, and ours,) to take
The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name
Live with authority:
:-so soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches wild;

Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up

5---

sorrowed render,] Thus the old copy. Render is confession. So, in Cymbeline, Act IV, sc. iv:

66

may drive us to a render

"Where we have liv'd."

The modern editors read-tender. Steevens.

6 Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;] This, which was in the former editions, can scarcely be right, and yet I know not whether my reading will be thought to rectify it. I take the meaning to be, We will give thee a recompense that our offences cannot outweigh, heaps of wealth down by the dram, or delivered according to the exactest measure. A little disorder may perhaps have happened in transcribing, which may be reformed by reading:

Ay, ev'n such heaps,

And sums of love and wealth, down by the dram,

As shall to thee

Johnson.

The speaker means, a recompense that shall more than counterpoise their offences, though weighed with the most scrupulous exactness. M. Mason.

A recompense so large, that the offence they have committed, though every dram of that offence should be put into the scale, cannot counterpoise it. The recompense will outweigh the of fence, which, instead of weighing down the scale in which it is placed, will kick the beam. Malone.

7 Allow'd with absolute power,] Allowed is licensed, privileged, uncontrolled. So of a buffoon, in Love's Labour's Lost, it is said, that he is allowed, that is, at liberty to say what he will, a privileged scoffer Johnson.

8

like a boar too savage, doth root up-] This image might

Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; Thus,If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;
Then, let him know,-and, tell him, Timon speaks it,
In pity of our aged, and our youth,

I cannot choose but tell him, that-I care not,
And let him tak 't at worst; for their knives care not,
While you have throats to answer: for myself,
There's not a whittle in the unruly camp,9

But I do prize it at my love, before

The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous gods,1

As thieves to keepers.

Flav.

Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph,

It will be seen to-morrow; My long sickness2

have been caught from Psalm lxxx, 13: "The wild boar out of the wood doth root it up," &c. Steevens.

9 There's not a whittle in the unruly camp,] A whittle is still in the midland counties the common name for a pocket clasp knife, such as children use. Chaucer speaks of a "Sheffield thwittell.” Steevens.

1 of the prosperous gods,] I believe prosperous is used here with our poet's usual laxity, in an active, instead of a passive, sense: the gods who are the authors of the prosperity of mankind. So, in Othello:

"To my unfolding lend a prosperous ear."

I leave you, says Timon, to the protection of the gods, the great distributors of prosperity, that they may so keep and guard you, as jailors do thieves; i. e. for final punishment. Malone.

I do not see why the epithet-prosperous, may not be employed here with its common signification, and mean-the gods who are prosperous in all their undertakings. Our author, elsewhere, has blessed gods, clear gods, &c. Steevens.

2

My long sickness] The disease of life begins to promise me a period. Johnson.

Of health, and living, now begins to mend,

And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,

And last so long enough!

1 Sen.

We speak in vain.

Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck,

As common bruit3 doth put it.

1 Sen.
That's well spoke.
Tim. Commend me to thy loving countrymen,
1 Sen. These words become your lips as they pass
through them.

2 Sen. And enter in our ears, like great triúmphers In their applauding gates.

Commend me to them;

Tim.
And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain

In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:5
I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.

Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,

3 bruit-]i. e. report, rumour. Steevens.

4 Their pangs of love, &c.] Compare this part of Timon's speech with part of the celebrated soliloquy in Hamlet. Steevens.

5

I will some kindness &c.] i. e. I will do them some kindness, for such, elliptically considered, will be the sense of these words, independent of the supplemental-do them, which only serves to derange the metre, and is, I think, a certain interpola tion. Steevens.

6 I have a tree, &c.] Perhaps Shakspeare was indebted to Chau--; cer's Wife of Bath's Prologue, for this thought. He might, however, have found it in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, Tom. I, Nov. 28, as well as in several other places. Steevens.

Our author was indebted for this thought to Plutarch's Life of Antony: "It is reported of him also, that this Timon on a time, (the people being assembled in the market-place, about dispatch of some affaires,) got up into the pulpit for orations, where the orators commonly use to speake unto the people; and silence being made, everie man listening to hear what he would say, because it was a wonder to see him in that place, at length he began to speak in this manner: My lordes of Athens, I have a little yard in my house where there groweth a figge tree, on the which