SCENE I.
The Woods, and Timon's Cave.
Enter Flavius.
Oh, you Gods!
Is yon despis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and failing?
Oh, monument and wonder of good deeds,
Evilly bestow'd!
3 note
What change of honour desp'rate want has made?
-- 258 --
What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends;
4 noteHow rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
5 noteWhen man was wisht to love his enemies:
6 note
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
H'as caught me in his eye; I will present
My honest grief to him; and, as my Lord,
Still serve him with my life.—My dearest master!
-- 259 --
Timon comes forward from his Cave.
Tim.
Away! what art thou?
Flav.
Have you forgot me, Sir?
Tim.
Why dost thou ask that? I have forgot all men.
Then, if thou grantest that thou art a man,
I have forgot thee.
Flav.
An honest poor servant of yours.
Tim.
Then I know thee not:
I ne'er had honest man about me, all
I kept were * noteknaves, to serve in meat to villains.
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? Come nearer, then I love thee,
Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give
But thorough lust and laughter. 7 note
Pity's sleeping;
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
Flav.
I beg of you to know me, good my Lord,
T' 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?
8 note
It almost turns my dangerous nature wild.
-- 260 --
—Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
Was born of woman.
Forgive my gen'ral and exceptless rashness,
Perpetual, sober Gods! I do proclaim
One honest man. Mistake me not. But one;
No more, I pray; and he's 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,
Thou might'st have sooner got another service;
For many so arrive at second masters,
Upon their first Lord's neck. But tell me true,
For I must ever doubt, tho' ne'er so sure,
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
A usuring kindness, 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 shew, heav'n knows, is meerly 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
-- 261 --
To requite me by making rich yourself.
Tim.
Look thee, 'tis so. Thou singly honest man,
Here, take. The Gods out of my misery
Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,
But thus condition'd; Thou shalt build 9 notefrom men,
Hate all, curse all, shew charity to none,
But let the famisht flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
1 noteDebts wither 'em. Be men like blasted woods,
And may diseases lick up their false bloods.
And so farewel, and thrive.
Flav.
O, let me stay, and comfort you, my Master.
Tim.
If thou hat'st curses,
Stay not, but fly, whilst thou art blest and free;
Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.
[Exeunt severally.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
