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Jew.

Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
Tim.

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but outside: These pencil'd figures are
Even such as they give out.8 I like your work;
And

you shall find, I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.
Pain.

The gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: Give me your hand; We must needs dine together.—Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under praise.

What, my lord? dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for 't as ’tis extoli'd, It would unclew me quite." Jew.

My lord, ’ris rated As those, which sell, would give: But you well know, Things of like value, differing in the owners, Are prized by their masters :1 believe 't, dear lord, You mend the jewel by wearing it.2 Tim.

Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common

tongue, Which all men speak with him. Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid?

Enter APEMANTUS.3 Jew. We will bear, with your lordship.

8

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- pencild figures are Even such as they give out.] Pictures have no hypocrisy; they are what they profess to be. Johnson.

unclew me quite.] To unclew is to unwind a ball of thread. To unclew a man, is to draw out the whole mass of his fortunes.

Johnson. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona :

“Therefore as you unwind her love from him,

“ You must provide to bottom it on me.” Steevens. 1 Are prized by their masters: ] Are rated according to the eš. teem in which their possessor is held. Fohnson.

- by wearing it.] Old copy-by the wearing it. Steevens. 3 Enter Apemantus.] See this character of a cynick finely drawn by Lucian, in his Auction of the Philosophers; and how well Shak. speare has copied it. Warburton.

2

Mer.

He 'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon's dog,s and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st

them not. Apem. Are they not Athenians ?6 Tim. Yes. Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus. Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I call’d thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus. Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like TiTim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That 's a deed thou 'lt die for. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

mon.

- stay for -] Old copy-stay thou for. With Sir T. Han. mer I have omitted the useless thou, (which the compositor's eye might have caught from the following line,) because it disorders the metre. Steevens.

5 When thou art Timon's dog,) When thou hast gotten a better character, and instead of being Timon as thou art, shalt be changed to Timon's dog, and become more worthy kindness and salutation. Johnson.

This is spoken door mix@s, as Mr. Upton says, somewhere:-striking his hand on his breast.

“Wot you who named me first the kinge's dogge!" says Aristippus in Damon and Pythias. Farmer.

Apemantus, I think, means to say, that Timon is not to receive a gentle good morrow from him till that shall happen which never will happen; till Timon is transformed to the shape of his dog, and his knavish followers become honest men. Stay for thy good morrow, says he, till I be gentle, which will happen at the same time when thou art Timon's dog, &c. i. e. never. Malone.

Mr. Malone has justly explained the drift of Apemantus. Such another reply occurs in Troilus and Cressida, where Ulysses, desir. ous to avoid a kiss from Cressida, says to her; give me one

“ When Helen is a maid again,” &c. Steevens. 6 Are they not Athenians?] The very imperfect state in which the ancient copy of this play has reached us, leaves a doubt whether several short speeches in the present scene were designed for verse or prose. I have therefore made no attempt at regulation. Steevens.

Apem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it?

Apem. He wrought better, that made the painter; and fet he 's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain. You are a dog.?

Apem. Thy mother 's of my generation; What's she, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
Apem. No; I eat not lords.
Tim. An thou should'st, thou ’ldst anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies,
Tim. That 's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it; Take it for thy labour.
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.

Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking.--How now, poet?
Poet. How now, philosopher?
Apem. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one?
Apem. Yes.
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where · thou hast feign’d him a worthy fellow.

Poet. That 's not feign’d, he is so.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: He, that loves to be flattered, is worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

T'im. What would'st do then, Apemantus?
Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with

my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?
Anem. Ay.
Tim. Wherefore?

7 Pain. You are a dog.) This speech, which is given to the Painter in the old editions, in the modern ones must have been transferred to the Poet by mistake: it evidently belongs to the former.

Ritson. 8 Not so well as plain-dealing,] Alluding to the proverb: “ Plain dealing is a jewel, but they that use it die beggars.” Steevens.

Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. '— Art not thou 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 sound. Enter a Servant.
Tim. What trumpet 's that?
Serv.

'Tis Alcibiades, and

. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.] This reading is absurd, and unintelligible. But, as I bave restored the text:

That I had so hungry a wit to be a lord, it is satirical enough of conscience, viz. I would hate myself, for having no more wit than to covet so insignificant a title. In the same sense, Shakspeare uses lean-witteil in his King Richard II:

“ And thou a lunatick, lean-witted fool.” Warburton. The meaning may be,-) should hate myself for patiently enduring to be a lord. This is ill enough expressed. Perhaps some happa change may set it right. I have tried, and can do nothing, yet I cannot heartily concur with Dr. Warburton. Johnson. Mr. Heath reads:

That I had so wrong'd my wit to be a lord. But the passage before us, is, in my opinion, irremediably corrupted. Steevens.

Perhaps the compositor has transposed the words, and they should be read thus:

Angry that I had no wit,-to be a lord. Or,

Angry to be a lord, -that I had no wit. Blackstone. Perhaps we should read:

That I had an angry wish to be a lord; Meaning, that he would hate himself for having wished in his anger to become a lord. --For it is in anger that he says:

“ Heavens, that I were a lord!" M Mason. I believe Shakspeare was thinking of the common expression he has wit in his anger; and that the difficulty arises here, as in many other places, from the original editor's paying no attention to abrupt sentences. Our author, I suppose, wrote:

That I had no angry wit. - To be a lord!

Art thou, &c. Apemantus is asked, why after having wished to be a lord, he should hate himself. He replies, --For this reason; that I had no wit (or discretion) in my anger, but was absurd enough to wish myself one of that set of men, whom I despise. He then exclaims with indignation. To be a lord !---Such is my conjecture, in which however I have not so much confidence as to depart from the mode in which this passage has been hitherto exhibited.

Malone.

Some twenty horse, all of companionship.?
Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.-

[Exeunt some Attendants. You must needs dine with me:-Go not you hence, Till I have thank'd you; and, when dinner's done, s Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

Enter ALCIBIADES, with his Company. Most welcome, sir!

[They salute. Apem.

So, so; there! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet

knaves,
And all this court’sy! The strain of man 's bred out
Into baboon and monkey.3

Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed
Most hungrily on your sight.
Tim,

Right welcome, sir:
Ere we depart,' we 'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

[Exeunt all but APEM.

Enter Two Lords. I Lord. What time a day is ’t, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest. i Lord. That time serves still. Apiem. The most accursed thou, 5 that still omit'st it.

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- all of companionship.] This expression does not mean barely that they all belong to one company, but that they are all such as Alcibiades honours with his acquaintance, and sets on a level with himself. Steevens.

and, when dinner 's done,] And, which is wanting in the first folio, is supplied by the second. Steevens.

The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey.) Man is exhausted and degenerated; his strain or lineage is worn down into a monkey. Johnson.

4 Ere we depart,] Who depart? Though Alcibiades was to leave Timon, Timon was not to depart. Common sense favours myemendation. Theobald.

Mr. Theobald proposes-do part. Common sense may favour it, but an acquaintance with the language of Shakspeare would not have been quite so propitious to his emendation. Depart and part have the same meaning. So, in King John:

“ Hath willingly departed with a part.”. i. e. hath willingly parted with a part of the thing in question. See Vol. VII, p. 331, n. 4. Steevens. VOL. XV.

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