Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth a hundred springs:
The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips:

The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?
1 Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and

fishes;

You must eat men.

Yet thanks I must you con 59, That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft

60

In limited professions. Rascal thieves,

indeed desperate, when you apply to one in my situation. Dr. Farmer would point the passage differently, thus:

'Your greatest want is, you want much.
Why should you want,' &c.

Of meat

Johnson thinks the old reading is the true one, saying that 'Timon tells them their greatest want is, that, like other men, they want much of meat; then telling them where meat may be had, he asks, Want? why want? I have adopted Hanmer's reading, which is surely the true one, being exactly in the spirit of Timon's sarcastic bitterness, and supported by what he subsequently says: after telling them where food may be had which will sustain nature, the thieves say 'We cannot live on grass, on berries, and on water:' Timon replies, Nor on the beasts, the birds, and fishes; you must eat men.' There is a double meaning implied in you want much of men, which is obvious, and much in Shakspeare's manner. The fact is, that before I was aware that Hanmer had proposed this reading, I had adopted it, from a conviction that it was what the sense of the passage as well as the context required. I have thought it my duty to lay before the reader the proposed emendations of others, that he may judge for himself.

59 See vol. iii. p. 305, note 13.

60 Limited professions are allowed professions. Thus in Macbeth:

'I'll make so bold to call, for 'tis my limited service.'

I will request the reader to correct my explanation of limited in Macbeth, vol. iv. p. 251, note 9, where I have unintentionally allowed the old glossarial explanation to stand, which interprets it appointed.

Here's gold: Go, suck the subtle blood of the grape
Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays

More than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
Do villany, do, since you profess to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears 61: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture 62 stol'n
From general excrement: each thing's a thief;
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves: away;
Rob one another. There's more gold: Cut throats;
All that you meet are thieves: To Athens, go,
Break open shops; for nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it: Steal not less, for this
I give you; and gold confound you howsoever!
Amen.
[TIMON retires to his Cave.

61 The moon is called the moist star in Hamlet, and the poet in the last scene of The Tempest has shown that he was acquainted with her influence on the tides. The watery beams of the moon are spoken of in Romeo and Juliet. The sea is therefore said to resolve her into salt tears, in allusion to the flow of the tides, and perhaps of her influence upon the weather, which she is said to govern. There is an allusion to the lachrymose nature of the planet in the following apposite passage in King Richard III.:'That I, being govern'd by the wat'ry moon,

May bring forth plenteous tears to drown the world.' In the play of Albumazar, the original of which is Lo Astrologo, by Baptista Porta, printed at Venice in 1606, there is a passage which contains similar examples of thievery, beginning The world's a theatre of theft,' &c. And the ode of Anacreon, which seems to have furnished the first idea of all similar passages, had been Englished by John Southern, from the Freneh of Ronsard, previous to 1589.

62 i. e. compost, manure.

3 Thief. He has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

1 Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true 63. [Exeunt Thieves.

Enter FLAVIUS.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yon despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
Full of decay and failing? O monument
And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of honour 64 has
Desperate want made!

What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
How rarely 65 does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'd 66 to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo

Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
He has caught me in his eye: I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!

63 There is no hour in a man's life so wretched but he always has it in his power to become true, i. e. honest.'

64 An alteration of honour, is an alteration of an honourable state to a state of disgrace.

65 How rarely, i. e. how admirably. So in Much Ado About Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 1, how rarely featur'd.'

66 i. e. desired. See vol. ii. p. 159, note 4. Friends and enemies here mean those who profess friendship and profess enmity. The proverb Defend me from my friends, and from my enemies I will defend myself,' is a sufficient comment on this passage.

TIMON comes forward from his Cave. Tim. Away! what art thou?

Flav.

Have you forgot me, sir? Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot

thee.

Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.
Tim.

I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
About me, I; all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.

Then

Flav. The gods are witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you. Tim. What, dost thou weep?

then I love thee,

Come nearer;~

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give 67,
But thorough lust, and laughter. Pity's sleeping;
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with
weeping!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, To accept my grief, and, whilst this poor wealth lasts, To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now So comfortable? It almost turns

My dangerous nature mild 68.

67 To give is to yield, to give way to tears.

68 The old copy reads:

It almost turns

My dangerous nature wild.'

The emendation is Warburton's. Timon's dangerous nature is his savage wildness, a species of frenzy induced by the baseness and ingratitude of the world. So in Antony and Cleopatra:'The ingratitude of this Seleucus does

Even make me wild.'

It would be idle to talk of turning a dangerous nature wild;'

Thy face. Surely this man was born of woman.
Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
One honest man,-mistake me not, but one;
No more, I pray, and he is a steward.-
How fain would I have hated all mankind,
And thou redeem'st thyself: But all, save thee,
I fell with curses.

Methinks thou art more honest now, than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying me,

For

Thou might'st have sooner got another service:
many so arrive at second masters,
Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true
(For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure),
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,

If not a usuring kindness; and as rich men deal gifts, Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late :

You should have fear'd false times, when you did feast:

Suspect still comes where an estate is least.

That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,

Care of your food and living: and, believe it,
My most honour'd lord,

For

any benefit that points to me,

Either in hope, or present, I'd exchange

For this one wish, That you had power and wealth To requite me, by making rich yourself.

Tim. Look thee, 'tis so!--Thou singly honest man,

the kindness and fidelity of Timon's steward was more likely to soften and compose him; and he does indeed show himself more mild and gentle to Flavius in consequence, being moved by the tears of his affectionate servant.

69 I think with Mr. Tyrwhitt that If not has slipped in here by an error of the compositor, caught from the Is not of the preceding line. Both sense and metre would be better without it.