Puslapio vaizdai

SCENE IV. Romeo's laft Speech over Juliet, in the Vault.

(10) O, my love, my wife!

Death, that hath fuckt the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty :
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's enfign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, ly'ft thou there in thy bloody fheet?
Oh, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand, that cut thy youth in twain,
To funder his, that was thy enemy?
Forgive me, coufin.- Ah dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet fo fair? fhall I believe
That unfubftantial death is amorous,
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark, to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I ftill will stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again here, here will I remain,
With worms that are thy chambermaids; oh here
Will I fet up my everlasting reft;

And shake the yoke of inaufpicious stars

From this world-weary'd flefh. Eyes, look your last!

(10) O my, &c.] I have given the reader this laft fpeech of Romeo, rather to let him into the plot, and convince him of the merit of the alterations made in it, than for any fingular beauty of its own; Romeo's furviving till Juliet awakens, is certainly productive of great beauties, particularly in the acting. And, indeed, this play of our author's hath met with better fuccefs, than any other which has been attempted to be altered: whoever reads Otrway's Caius Marius, will foon be convinc'd of and it is to be wifh'd, none would prefume to build upon Shakespear's foundation, but such as are equal mafters with Otway.


L 2


Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, oh you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kifs
A dateless bargain to engroffing death!
Come, bitter conduct! come, unfav'ry guide!
Thou defp'rate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks, my fea-fick, weary, bark:
Here's to my love! oh, true apothecary!

[Drinks the poifon.

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kifs I die.



Timon of Athens.



THE painting is almoft the natural man

For fince difhoñour trafficks with man's nature,

He is but outfide: pencil'd figures are
Ev'n fuch as they give out.

SCENE V. The Pleasure of doing good.

Oh, you gods, (think I,) what need we have any friends, if we fhould never have need of 'em? they would most resemble fweet inftruments hung up in cafes, that keep their founds to themselves. Why, I have often wish'd myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you: we are born to do benefits. And what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis to have fo many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes ?


A faithful Steward.

So the gods blefs me,

When all our offices have been opprest

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With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
With drunken fpilth of wine; when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelfie,
I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock (1),
And fet mine eyes at flow.

SCENE V. The Ingratitude of Timon's Friends.

They answer in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would; are forry-You are honourableBut yet they could have wifht-they know notSomething hath been amifs-a noble nature

May catch a wrench-would all were well-'tis pityAnd fo intending other serious matters,

After diftafteful looks, and thefe hard (2) fractions,

With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods,
They froze me into filence.

Tim. You gods reward them!

I pr'ythee, man, look cheerly.

Thefe old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary :
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it feldom flows,
'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again tow'rd earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.



Against Duelling.

Your Words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd To bring man-flaughter into form, fet quarrelling


(1) Cock, i. e. a cockloft, a garret : and, a rafieful cock fig nifies, a garret lying in wafte, neglected, put to no ufe. Oxford


(2) Fractions] i, e. Thefe breaks in fpeech; fuch as are expreft


Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour mis-begot, and came into the world,
When fects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer

The worst that man can breathe, (3) and make his wrongs

His out-fides, wear them like his rayment, carelefly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,

To bring it into danger.



Without the Walls of Athens.

Timon's Execrations on the Athenians.

Let me look back upon thee, O, thou wall,
That girdleft in those wolves! dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in children; flaves and fools
Pluck the grave wrinkled fenate from the bench,
And minifter in their fteads: to general filths
Convert o'th' inftant, green virginity!

Do't in your parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold faft;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trufters throats. Bound fervants, fteal;
Large-handed robbers your grave mafters are,
And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;
Thy miftrefs is o'th' brothel. Son of fixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping fire,
And with it beat his brains out! Fear and piety,
Religion to the gods, peace, juftice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-reft, and neighbourhood,
Inftruction, manners, mysteries and trades,

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(3) And make, &c.] The first part of the fentence is explained by the latter, "He's truly valiant, &c. that can make his wrongs his outfides, e. wear them like his raiment carelefly.

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