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Whereon Hyperion's quickning fire doth shine;
Go great with tygers, dragons, wolves and bears,
-O, a root
dear thanks !
(11) Dry up thy marrows, veins, and plough-torn leas,,
Timon's Difcourfe with Apemantus.
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected,
From change of fortune. Why this fpade? this place?
(11) Dry up] Mr. Warburton reads here, Dry up thy barrezu’di veins, and plough-torn leas; and the Oxford editor,
Dry up thy meadows, vineyards, plough-torn leas. The Oxford editor has fome ground for his criticifm, for I find in the folio, marrows, vines, &c. and for Mr. Warburton's, there is indeed fomething to be faid, tho' he must observe, the metaphor is not kept up by his alteration (for 'tis to keep up the metaphor he alters) except another flight emendation be made of leas into limbs!
(12) Weeds] This was woods, till, alter'd by Mr. Warburton we may obferve, Apemantus frequently reproaches Timon with his change of garb..
This flave-like habit
This fowr cold habit on,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Thou gav'ft thine ears, like tapfters, that bid wel.
To knaves, and all approachers: 'tis moft juft
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself. Apem. Thou'ft caft away thyfelf, being like thyself, So long a madman, now a fool.
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
And fkip when thou point'ft out will the cold. brook,
Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning taste.
To cure thy o'er-night's furfeit? Call the creatures,
Of wreakful heav'n, whofe bare unhoused trunks,
Anfwer meer nature; bid them flatter thee;«
Oh! thou shalt find
Tim. Thou art a flave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clafp'd; but bred a dog. Hadft thou, like us, from our firft fwath proceeded Through fweet degrees that this brief world affords, To fuch, as may the paffive drugs of it
Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thyfelf In general riot, melted down thy youth
Mofs'd, Oxf. edit. vulg, moist.
In different beds of luft, and never learn'd
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of
At duty, more than I could frame employments;
Hath made the hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate
O, thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce [Looking on the gold. 'Twixt natural fon and fire! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's pureft bed! thou valiant Mars! Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd and delicate wooer, (13) Whose blush doth thaw the confecrated fnow,
(13) Whose blufp, &c.] The imagery here is exquifitely beautiful and fublime; and that ftill heightened by allufion to a fable and cuftom of antiquity, viz. the ftory of Danae and the golden fhower and the ufe of confecrating to a god or goddefs, that which, from a fimilarity of nature, they were fuppofed to hold in esteem. Warburton.
That lies on Dian's lap thou visible God,
That fouldreft close impoffibilities,
And mak'ft them kifs! that speak'ft with every tongue,
To every purpose! Oh, thou touch of hearts!
SCENE VII. Timon, to the Thieves.
Why should you want? behold, the earth hath
Within this mile break forth an hundred springs;
Tim. Nor on the beafts themselves, the birds and fishes:
You must eat men. Yet thanks I muft you con,
In limited profeffions. Rafcals, thieves,
Here's gold. Go, fuck the fubtle blood o'th grape, Till the high fever feeth your blood to froth,
And fo fcape hanging.
His antidotes are poifon,
Truft not the phyfician,
and he flays
More than you rob; takes wealth and life together
* Takes wealth and life together; Oxford-edit vulg. Take wealth and live together,
And her pale fire fhe fnatches from the fun.
On his boneft Steward.
Forgive my gen'ral and exceptless rashness,
How fain would I have hated all mankind,
(15) Methinks, thou art more honeft now, than wife For, by oppreffing and betraying me,
Thou might'ft have sooner got another service:
(14) Mounds] This formerly was moon, and the alteration is claimed by Mr. Theobald and Mr. Warburton: the opinion they fuppofe our author alludes to, is, that the faltnefs of the fea is caused by several ranges or mounds of rock-falt under water, with which refolving liquor the fea was impregnated. The whole of this feems to be a good deal in the manner of Anacreon's celebrated drinking ode, too well known to be inferted here.
(15) Methinks, &c.] See Othello, p. 160,