Apem.

Come, with me, fool, come.

Fool.

I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman; sometime, the philosopher.

Flav.
'Pray you, walk near; I'll speak with you anon. [Exeunt Serv.

Tim.
You make me marvel: Wherefore, ere this time,
Had you not fully laid my state before me;
That I might so have rated my expence,
As I had leave of means?

Flav.
You would not hear me,
At many leisures I propos'd.

Tim.
Go to:
Perchance, some single vantages you took,
When my indisposition put you back;
And that unaptness made your minister^{7 note}

Flav.
O my good lord!
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine honesty.
When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
Return so much^{8 note}, I have shook my head, and wept;
Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close: I did endure

Not seldom, nor no slight checks; when I have
Prompted you, in the ebb of your estate,
And your great flow of debts. My lov'd lord^{9 note},
Though you hear now, (too late!) yet now's a time^{1 note}

Tim.
Let all my land be sold^{2 note}




.

Flav.
'Tis all engag'd, some forfeited and gone;
And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues: the future comes apace:
What shall defend the interim? and at length
How goes our reckoning^{3 note}

Tim.
To Lacedæmon did my land extend.

Flav.
O my good lord, the world is but a word^{4 note};
Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone?

Tim.
You tell me true.

Flav.
If you suspect my husbandry, or falsehood,
Call me before the exactest auditors,
And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
When all our offices^{5 note}

With riotous feeders^{6 note}; when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine; when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy;
I have retir'd me to a wasteful cock^{7 note}

Tim.
Pr'ythee, no more.

Flav.
Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!
How many prodigal bits have slaves, and peasants,
This night englutted! Who is not Timon's^{8 note}
?

What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is lord Timon's?
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!
Ah! when the means are gone, that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
These flies are couch'd.

Tim.
Come, sermon me no further:
No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given^{9 note}
.
Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack,
To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart;
If I would broach the vessels of my love,
And try the argument^{1 note}

Flav.
Assurance bless your thoughts!

Tim.
And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd^{3 note}
,
That I account them blessings; for by these
Shall I try friends: You shall perceive, how you
Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends.
Within there^{4 note}!—Flaminius^{5 note}! Servilius! Enter Flaminius, Servilius, and other Servants.

Serv.

My lord, my lord,—

Tim.

I will despatch you severally.—You, to lord Lucius;—To lord Lucullus you; I hunted with his honour to-day;—You, to Sempronius; commend me to their loves; and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have found time to use them toward a supply of money: let the request be fifty talents.

Flam.

As you have said, my lord.

Flav.
Lord Lucius, and Lucullus^{6 note}? humph! [Aside.

Tim.
Go you, sir, [To another Serv.] to the senators^{7 note}
,
(Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
Deserv'd this hearing,) bid 'em send o' the instant
A thousand talents to me.

Flav.
I have been bold,
(For that I knew it the most general way^{8 note},)
To them to use your signet, and your name;
But they do shake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.

Tim.
Is't true? can it be?

Flav.
They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall^{9 note}, want treasure, cannot
Do what they would; are sorry—you are honourable,—
But yet they could have wish'd—they know not—but^{1 note}
Something hath been amiss—a noble nature
May catch a wrench—would all were well—'tis pity—
And so, intending^{2 note}

With certain half-caps^{4 note}, and cold-moving nods^{5 note}

Tim.
You gods, reward them!—
I pr'ythee, man, look cheerly; These old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary^{6 note}:
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey, dull, and heavy^{7 note}

I clear'd him with five talents: Greet him from me;
Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his friend^{9 note}

Flav.
I would, I could not think it^{1 note}
; That thought is bounty's foe;
Being free^{2 note} itself, it thinks all others so. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. The Same. A Room in Lucullus's House. Flaminius waiting. Enter a Servant to him.

Serv.

I have told my lord of you, he is coming down to you.

Flam.

I thank you, sir.

Serv.

Here's my lord.

Lucul. [Aside.]

One of lord Timon's men? a gift, I warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver bason and ewer^{3 note}

Flam.

His health is well, sir.

Lucul.

I am right glad that his health is well, sir: And what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?

Flam.

'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to supply; who, having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, have sent to your lordship

to furnish him; nothing doubting your present assistance therein.

Lucul.

La, la, la, la,—nothing doubting, says he? alas, good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I have dined with him, and told him on't; and come again to supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less; and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his^{5 note}; I have told him on't, but I could never get him from it.

Serv.

Please your lordship, here is the wine.

Lucul.

Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee.

Flam.

Your lordship speaks your pleasure.

Lucul.

I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit,—give thee thy due,—and one that knows what belongs to reason: and canst use the time well, if the time use thee well: good parts in thee.—Get you gone, sirrah.—[To the Servant, who goes out.]—Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, that this is no time to lend money; especially upon bare friendship, without security. Here's three solidares^{6 note} for thee; good boy, wink at me, and say, thou saw'st me not. Fare thee well.

Flam.
Is't possible, the world should so much differ;

And we alive, that liv'd^{7 note}? Fly, damned baseness,
To him that worships thee. [Throwing the money away.

Lucul.

Ha! Now I see, thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.

Flam.
May these add to the number that may scald thee!
Let molten coin be thy damnation^{8 note}

Why should it thrive, and turn to nutriment,
When he is turn'd to poison?
O, may diseases only work upon't!
And, when he is sick to death^{4 note}, let not that part of nature^{5 note}

SCENE II. The Same. A Publick Place. Enter Lucius, with Three Strangers.

Luc.

Who, the lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman.

1 Stran.

We know him for no less^{7 note}

Luc.

Fye no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money.

2 Stran.

But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, one of his men was with the lord Lucullus, to borrow so many talents^{8 note}

for't and showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied.

Luc.

How?

2 Stran.

I tell you, denied, my lord.

Luc.

What a strange case was that? now, before the gods, I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man? there was very little honour showed in't. For my own part, I must needs confess, I have received some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels, and such like trifles, nothing comparing to his; yet, had he mistook him, and sent to me^{9 note}

Enter Servilius.

Ser.

See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; I have sweat to see his honour.—My honoured lord,—

Luc.

Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well:—Commend me to thy honourable-virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend.

Ser.

May it please your honour, my lord hath sent—

Luc.

Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord; he's ever sending: How shall I thank him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now?

Ser.

He has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents^{3 note}

Luc.

I know, his lordship is but merry with me; He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.

Ser.
But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.
If his occasion were not virtuous^{4 note}

Luc.
Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?

Ser.

Upon my soul, 'tis true, sir.

Luc.

What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish myself against such a good time, when I might have shown myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I should purchase the day before for a little part, and undo a great deal of honour^{6 note}

Servilius, now before the gods, I am not able to do't; the more beast, I say.—I was sending to use lord Timon myself, these gentlemen can witness; but I would not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done it now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I hope, his honour will conceive the fairest of me, because I have no power to be kind: —And tell him this from me, I count it one of my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him?

Ser.

Yes, sir, I shall.

Luc.
I will look you out a good turn, Servilius.— [Exit Servilius.
True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed;
And he, that's once denied, will hardly speed. [Exit Lucius.

1 Stran.
Do you observe this, Hostilius^{7 note}

?

2 Stran.
Ay, too well.

1 Stran.
Why this
Is the world's soul; and just of the same piece
Is every flatterer's spirit^{8 note}

When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!)
He does deny him, in respect of his^{1 note}

3 Stran.
Religion groans at it.

1 Stran.
For mine own part,
I never tasted Timon in my life,
Nor came any of his bounties over me,
To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest,
For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue,
And honourable carriage,
Had his necessity made use of me,
I would have put my wealth into donation,
And the best half should have return'd to him^{2 note}

So much I love his heart: But, I perceive,
Men must learn now with pity to dispense:
For policy sits above conscience. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Same. A Room in Sempronius's House. Enter Sempronius, and a Servant of Timon's.

Sem.
Must he needs trouble me in't? Humph! 'Bove all others?
He might have tried lord Lucius, or Lucullus;
And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem'd from prison^{3 note}



: All these^{4 note}
Owe their estates unto him.

Serv.
My lord,
They have all been touch'd^{5 note}

Sem.
How! have they denied him?
Has Ventidius^{6 note}

And does he send to me? Three? humph!—
It shows but little love or judgment in him.
Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,
Thrive, give him over^{7 note}

He has much disgrac'd me in't; I am angry at him,
That might have known my place: I see no sense for't,
But his occasions might have woo'd me first;

For, in my conscience, I was the first man
That e'er receiv'd gift from him:
And does he think so backwardly of me now,
That I'll requite it last? No: So it may prove
An argument of laughter to the rest,
And I amongst the lords be thought a fool^{8 note}

Serv.

Excellent^{1 note}

Uncover, dogs, and lap.

Some speak.
What does his lordship mean?

Some other.
I know not.

Tim.
May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends! smoke, and luke-warm water
Is your perfection^{1 note}. This is Timon's last;
Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces [Throwing Water in their Faces.
Your reeking villainy. Live loath'd, and long^{2 note}

Soft, take thy physick first—thou too,—and thou;— [Throws the Dishes at them, and drives them out.
Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.—
What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,
Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
Burn, house; sink, Athens! henceforth hated be
Of Timon, man, and all humanity! [Exit. Re-enter the Lords, with other Lords and Senators.

1 Lord.

How now, my lords^{7 note}?

2 Lord.

Know you the quality of lord Timon's fury?

3 Lord.

Pish! did you see my cap?

4 Lord.

I have lost my gown.

3 Lord.

He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. He gave me a jewel the other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat:—Did you see my jewel?

4 Lord.

Did you see my cap?

2 Lord.

Here 'tis.

4 Lord.

Here lies my gown.

1 Lord.

Let's make no stay.

2 Lord.
Lord Timon's mad.

3 Lord.
I feel't upon my bones.

4 Lord.
One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones^{8 note}. [Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I. Without the Walls of Athens. Enter Timon.

Tim.
Let me look back upon thee, O thou wall,
That girdlest in those wolves! Dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in children! slaves, and fools,
Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
And minister in their steads! to general filths^{9 note}
Convert o' the instant, green^{1 note}
virginity!
Do't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal!
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law: maid, to thy master's bed;
Thy mistress is o' the brothel^{2 note}

Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries^{3 note}

,
And yet confusion^{4 note} live!—Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Athens, ripe for stroke! thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners! lust and liberty^{5 note}

SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Timon's House. Enter Flavius^{7 note}, with Two or Three Servants.

1 Serv.
Hear you, master steward, where's our master?
Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

Flav.
Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded^{8 note}
by the righteous gods,
I am as poor as you.

1 Serv.
Such a house broke!
So noble a master fallen! All gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him!

2 Serv.
As we do turn our backs
From our companion, thrown into his grave;
So his familiars to his buried fortunes^{9 note}

Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd: and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone.—More of our fellows. Enter other Servants.

Flav.
All broken implements of a ruin'd house.

3 Serv.
Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our bark;
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.

Flav.
Good fellows all,
The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
We have seen better days. Let each take some; [Giving them money.
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor^{1 note}
. [Exeunt Servants.
O, the fierce wretchedness^{2 note}

Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory? or to live
But in a dream of friendship?
To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart;
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood^{3 note}

Supply his life, or that which can command it.
I'll follow, and inquire him out:
I'll serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold I'll be his steward still. [Exit. SCENE III. The Woods. Enter Timon.

Tim.
O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb^{4 note}
Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,—
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarce is dividant,—touch them with several fortunes;
The greater scorns the lesser: Not nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
But by contempt of nature^{5 note}

Raise me this beggar, and deny't that lord^{6 note}

The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,

In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, This man's a flatterer^{8 note}

? if one be,

So are they all; for every grize of fortune^{9 note}

Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorr'd
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblance, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
Destruction fang mankind^{1 note}
!—Earth, yield me roots! [Digging.
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison! What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
I am no idle votarist^{2 note}. Roots, you clear heavens^{3 note}

Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads^{5 note}:
This yellow slave
Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy^{6 note} ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench: this is it^{7 note}
,
That makes the wappen'd widow wed again^{8 note}

She, whom the spital-house, and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at^{9 note}

To the April day again^{1 note}

Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature^{2 note}.—[March afar off.]—Ha! a drum?—Thou'rt quick^{3 note},

But yet I'll bury thee: Thou'lt go, strong thief^{4 note}
,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand:—
Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping some gold. Enter Alcibiades, with Drum and Fife, in warlike manner; Phrynia and Timandra.

Alcib.
What art thou there?
Speak.

Tim.
A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,
For showing me again the eyes of man!

Alcib.
What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,
That art thyself a man?

Tim.
I am misanthropos^{5 note}, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Alcib.
I know thee well;
But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Tim.
I know thee too; and more, than that I know thee,
I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules^{6 note}

Phry.
Thy lips rot off!

Tim.
I will not kiss thee^{7 note}

Alcib.
How came the noble Timon to this change?

Tim.
As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcib.
Noble Timon,
What friendship may I do thee?

Tim.
None, but to
Maintain my opinion.

Alcib.
What is it, Timon?

Tim.

Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou wilt not promise^{8 note}
, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alcib.
I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

Tim.
Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

Alcib.
I see them now; then was a blessed time^{9 note}

Tim.
As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

Timan.
Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world
Voic'd so regardfully?

Tim.
Art thou Timandra?

Timan.
Yes.

Tim.
Be a whore still! they love thee not, that use thee;
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves

For tubs, and baths^{1 note}





; bring down rose-cheeked youth^{2 note}

To the tub-fast, and the diet^{3 note}

Timan.
Hang thee, monster!

Alcib.
Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.—
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band: I have heard, and griev'd,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,

But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them^{4 note},—

Tim.
I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

Alcib.
I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

Tim.
How dost thou pity him, whom thou dost trouble?
I had rather be alone.

Alcib.
Why, fare thee well:
Here's some gold for thee.

Tim.
Keep't, I cannot eat it.

Alcib.
When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,—

Tim.
Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

Alcib.
Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim.
The gods confound them all i' thy conquest; and
Thee after, when thou hast conquer'd:

Alcib.
Why me, Timon?

Tim.
That,
By killing villains, thou wast born to conquer
My country.
Put up thy gold; Go on,—here's gold,—go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the sick air^{5 note}

Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He's an usurer: Strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself's a bawd: Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword^{6 note}; for those milk-paps,
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes^{7 note}

Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
But set them down^{8 note}
horrible traitors: Spare not the babe,
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy^{9 note};

Think it a bastard^{1 note}, whom the oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat^{2 note} shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse: Swear against objects^{3 note}

Alcib.
Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou giv'st me,
Not all thy counsel.

Tim.
Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee!

Phr. & Timan.
Give us some gold, good Timon: Hast thou more?

Tim.
Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whores, a bawd^{4 note}. Hold up, you sluts,

Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable,—
Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear,
Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues,
The immortal gods that hear you^{5 note}

With burdens of the dead;—some that were hang'd,

No matter:—wear them, betray with them: whore still;
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face:
A pox of wrinkles!

Phr. & Timan.
Well, more gold;—What then?—
Believ't, that we'll do any thing for gold.

Tim.
Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring^{1 note}

That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly^{2 note}

Phr. & Timan.
More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

Tim.
More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

Alcib.
Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon;
If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim.
If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

Alcib.
I never did thee harm.

Tim.
Yes, thou spok'st well of me.

Alcib.
Call'st thou that harm?

Tim.
Men daily find it such^{6 note}. Get thee away,
And take thy beagles with thee.

Alcib.
We but offend him.—
Strike. [Drums beats. Exeunt Alcibiades, Phrynia and Timandra.

Tim.
That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
Should yet be hungry!—Common mother, thou, [Digging.
Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast^{7 note}

Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm^{9 note}

Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion^{5 note}

Apem.
I was directed hither: Men report,
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

Tim.
'Tis then because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!

Apem.
This is in thee a nature but affected;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung

From change of fortune^{7 note}

. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseas'd perfumes^{8 note}

Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome^{2 note}

Tim.
Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.

Apem.
Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
A madman so long, now a fool: What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moss'd trees^{3 note}

And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,—
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer mere nature^{5 note}

,—bid them flatter thee;
O! thou shalt find—

Tim.
A fool of thee: Depart.

Apem.
I love thee better now than e'er I did.

Tim.
I hate thee worse.

Apem.
Why?

Tim.
Thou flatter'st misery.

Apem.
I flatter not; but say, thou art a caitiff.

Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?

Apem.
To vex thee^{6 note}
.

Tim.
Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Dost please thyself in't?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
What! a knave too^{7 note}?

Apem.
If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou

Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before^{8 note}

Tim.
Not by his breath^{1 note}

Hadst thou, like us^{4 note}

The sweet degrees^{6 note} that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it^{7 note}

The sugar'd game before thee. But myself^{2 note}

Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare^{4 note}

Apem.
Art thou proud yet?

Tim.
Ay, that I am not thee.

Apem.
I, that I was
No prodigal.

Tim.
I, that I am one now;
Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.—
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it. [Eating a Root.

Apem.
Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offering him something.

Tim.
First mend my company^{7 note}, take away thyself^{8 note}.

Apem.
So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

Tim.
'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
If not, I would it were.

Apem.
What would'st thou have to Athens?

Tim.
Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

Apem.
Here is no use for gold.

Tim.
The best, and truest:
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apem.
Where ly'st o' nights, Timon?

Tim.
Under that's above me^{9 note}


.
Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

Apem.

Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

Tim.

'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!

Apem.

Where would'st thou send it?

Tim.

To sauce thy dishes.

Apem.

The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity^{1 note}

Tim.

On what I hate, I feed not.

Apem.

Dost hate a medlar?

Tim.

Ay, though it look like thee^{2 note}

Apem.

An thou hadst hated medlers sooner, thou should'st have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means?

Tim.

Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem.

Myself.

Tim.

I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.

Apem.

What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim.

Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What would'st thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem.

Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim.

Would'st thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem.

Ay, Timon.

Tim.

A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee: if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee: if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accused by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and still thou livedst but as a breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou

the unicorn^{3 note}

Apem.

If thou could'st please me with speaking to me, thou might'st have hit upon it here: The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim.

How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

Apem.

Yonder comes a poet, and a painter: The plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way: When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.

Tim.

When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog, than Apemantus.

Apem.
Thou art the cap of all the fools alive^{6 note}

Tim.
'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.

Apem.
A plague on thee, thou art too bad to curse^{7 note}.

Tim.
All villains, that do stand by thee, are pure^{8 note}

.

Apem.
There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

Tim.
If I name thee.—
I'll beat thee,—but I should infect my hands.

Apem.
I would, my tongue could rot them off!

Tim.
Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Apem.
'Would thou would'st burst!

Tim.
Away,
Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry, I shall lose
A stone by thee. [Throws a Stone at him.

Apem.
Beast!

Tim.
Slave!

Apem.
Toad!

Tim.
Rogue, rogue, rogue! [Apemantus retreats backward, as going.
I am sick of this false world; and will love nought
But even the mere necessities upon it.
Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce [Looking on the Gold.
'Twixt natural son and sire^{9 note}

! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap^{1 note}

Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!

Apem.
'Would 'twere so;—
But not till I am dead!—I'll say, thou hast gold:
Thou will be throng'd to shortly.

Tim.
Throng'd to?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Apem.
Live, and love thy misery!

Tim.
Long live so, and so die!—I am quit.— [Exit Apemantus.
More things like men^{3 note}

1 Thief.

Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder: The mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Thief.

It is noised, he hath a mass of treasure.

3 Thief.

Let us make the assay upon him; if he

care not for't, he will supply us easily; If he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it?

2 Thief.

True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

1 Thief.

Is not this he?

Thieves.

Where?

2 Thief.

'Tis his description.

3 Thief.

He; I know him.

Thieves.

Save thee, Timon.

Tim.

Now, thieves?

Thieves.

Soldiers, not thieves.

Tim.

Both too; and women's sons.

Thieves.
We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

Tim.
Your greatest want is, you want much of meat^{5 note}

Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots^{6 note}


;
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^{7 note}

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 villainy, do, since you profess to do't^{9 note},
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^{1 note}

That feeds and breeds by a composture^{2 note} stole
From general excrement: each thing's a thief,

The laws, your curb and whip^{3 note}

, 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; nothing can you steal^{4 note}
,
But thieves do lose it: Steal not less^{5 note}, for this
I give you; and gold confound you howsoever!
Amen. [Timon retires to his Cave.

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^{6 note}.

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^{7 note}

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 has
Desperate want made^{8 note}
!
What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
How rarely^{9 note}