Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: [Exit. ΙΟ Enter Senators on the walls. Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time Have wander'd with our traversed arms and Our sufferance vainly; now the time is flush, 4. Some beast rear'd this, etc. So Warburton for Ff 'read.' The man - hater must have received these burial honours from his fellows, not from man. It is hardly possible to give a meaning to 'read' which does not involve glaring contradiction in what follows. There does not live a man who can [or is fit to] read it.' But the soldier proceeds to take for granted 7. figure, handwriting. When crouching marrow in the bearer strong First Sen. Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, To wipe out our ingratitude with loves Sec. Sen. So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city's love By humble message and by promised means: First Sen. These walls of ours Were not erected by their hands from whom should fall For private faults in them. Sec. Sen. Which nature loathes-take thou the destined tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted die Let die the spotted. ΤΟ 20 30 First Sen. 14. conceit, fancy. All have not offended; 28. Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess, extreme shame that they lacked wisdom. For those that were, it is not square to take Sec. Sen. What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile Than hew to 't with thy sword. First Sen. Set but thy foot Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; Throw thy glove, 50 Or any token of thine honour else, That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress Alcib. Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken. Alcib. Descend, and keep your words. [The Senators descend, and open the gates. 36. square, right. 60 47. rampired, fortified with ramparts. Enter Soldier. Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead; Alcib. [Reads the epitaph] Here lies a wretched Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate : Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay not here thy gait.' These well express in thee thy latter spirits: From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye Dead Is noble Timon: of whose memory Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each Prescribe to other as each other's leech. 70-73. The first two lines are a rendering of Timon's own epitaph; the last two were ascribed generally to the poet Callimachus. Lines 71-72 are contradictions. Both epitaphs, [Exeunt. 70 80 however, occur in close succession in the Plutarchian narrative, whence they were doubtless copied by the author without reflection. |