Pain.

As I took note of the place, it cannot ^note be far where he abides. ^note

Poet.

What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold for true, that he's so full of gold?

Pain.

Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia ^note and Timandra ^note had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

Poet.

Then this breaking of his has been but a try for ^note his friends.

Pain.

Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him in this supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in us, and is very likely to load our purposes with what they ^note travail for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having.

Poet.

What have you now to present unto him?

Pain.

Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece.

Poet.

I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

Pain.

Good as the best. Promising ^note is the very air o'the

time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying ^note is quite ^note out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great sickness in his judgement that makes it.

Tim. [Aside]

Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a man so bad as is ^note thyself.

Poet.

I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

Tim. [Aside]

Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. ^note

Poet.
Nay, let's seek him:
Then do we sin against our own estate,
When we may profit meet, and come too late.

Pain.
True;
When ^note the day serves, before black-corner'd ^note night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. ^note
Come ^note. ^note

Tim. [Aside]
I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple ^note
Than where swine feed ^note! ^note
'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam ^note,
Settlest admired reverence in a slave:
To thee be worship ^note! and thy saints for aye
Be ^note crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey!
Fit I ^note meet them. [Coming forward. ^note

Poet.
Hail, worthy Timon!

Pain.
Our late noble master!

Tim.
Have I once lived to see two honest men? ^note

Poet.
Sir,
Having often of your open ^note bounty tasted ^note,
Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
Whose thankless natures—O abhorred spirits!— ^note
Not all the whips of heaven are large enough— ^note
What! to you ^note,
Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
To their whole ^note being! I am ^note rapt, and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude ^note
With any size of words.

Tim.
Let it go naked, men ^note may see't the better ^note:
You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them ^note best seen and known.

Pain.
He and myself
Have travail'd ^note in the great ^note shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.

Tim.
Ay, you are ^note honest men ^note.

Pain.
We are ^note hither come to offer you our service ^note.

Tim.
Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you ^note?
Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.

Both.
What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.

Tim.
Ye 're ^note honest men: ye 've ^note heard that I have gold ^note;
I am ^note sure you have: speak truth; ye 're ^note honest men.

Pain.
So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore
Came not my friend nor ^note I.

Tim.
Good honest men ^note! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens: thou'rt ^note indeed the best;
Thou counterfeit'st most lively.

Pain.
So, so, my lord. ^note

Tim.
E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction,
Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
That thou art even natural in thine art.
But, for all this, my honest-natured ^note friends,
I must needs say you have a little fault:
Marry, 'tis ^note not monstrous in you; neither wish I
You take much pains to mend.

Both.
Beseech your honour
To make it known to us.

Tim.
You'll take it ill.

Both.
Most thankfully, my lord.

Tim.
Will you, indeed?

Both.
Doubt it not, worthy lord.

Tim.
There's never ^note a one of you but trusts a knave
That mightily deceives you.

Both.
Do we, my lord?

Tim.
Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, ^note
Know his gross patchery, love ^note him, feed him ^note,
Keep ^note in your bosom: yet remain assured
That he's a made-up villain.

Pain.
I know none such, my lord.

Poet.
Nor I ^note.

Tim.
Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, ^note
Rid me these villains from your companies:
Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught ^note,
Confound them by some course, and come to me,
I'll give you gold enough.

Both.
Name them, my lord, let's know them.

Tim.
You that way, and you this, but ^note two in ^note company: ^note
Each man apart ^note, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. ^note
If, where thou art, two villains ^note shall not be, ^note
Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside ^note
But where one villain is, then him abandon.
Hence, pack! there's gold; you ^note came for gold, ye slaves:
[To Painter ^note] You have work ^note for me, there's ^note payment ^note: hence ^note!

[To Poet ^note]
You are an alchemist, make gold of that:
Out, rascal dogs! [Beats ^note them out, and then retires into his cave. ^noteEnter Flavius and two Senators.

Flav.
It is in ^note vain that you would speak with Timon;
For he is set so only to himself
That nothing but himself which looks like man
Is friendly with him.

First Sen.
Bring us to his cave:
It is our part ^note and promise to the Athenians
To speak with Timon.

Sec. Sen.
At all times alike
Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs
That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
Offering the fortunes of his former days,
The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
And chance ^note it as it may.

Flav.
Here is his cave.
Peace and content be here! ^note Lord ^note Timon! Timon!
Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians
By two of their most reverend senate greet thee:
Speak to them, noble Timon. Timon ^note comes from his cave.

Tim.
Thou sun, that comfort'st ^note, burn! Speak, and be hang'd ^note:

For each true word, a blister! and each false
Be as a cauterizing ^note to the ^note root o' the tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

First Sen.
Worthy Timon,—

Tim.
Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. ^note

First Sen.
The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Tim.
I thank them, and would send them back the plague, ^note
Could I but catch it for them.

First Sen.
O, forget
What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
The senators with one consent of love
Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

Sec. Sen.
They confess
Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross ^note:
Which now ^note the public body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter, feeling in itself
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense ^note withal
Of its ^note own fail ^note, restraining ^note aid to Timon;
And send ^note forth us, to make their sorrowed render ^note,
Together with ^note a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; ^note

Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As ^note shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee ^note the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim.
You witch me in it,
Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

First Sen.
Therefore, so please thee to return with us,
And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allow'd ^note with absolute power, and thy good name
Live with authority: so ^note soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches ^note wild;
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.

Sec. Sen.
And shakes his threatening sword
Against the walls of Athens.

First Sen.
Therefore, Timon,— ^note

Tim.
Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: ^note
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That Timon cares not. But ^note if he sack fair Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain
Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
In pity of our aged and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him, ^note that I care not,
And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not,
While you have throats to answer: for myself,
There's not a whittle ^note in the unruly camp,
But I do prize it at ^note my love before

The reverend'st ^note throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous ^note gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav.
Stay not; all's in vain.

Tim.
Why, I was writing of my epitaph; ^note
It will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness
Of health and living now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
And last so long enough!

First Sen.
We speak in vain.

Tim.
But yet I love my country, and am not
One that rejoices in the common wreck ^note,
As common bruit ^note doth put it.

First Sen.
That's well spoke.

Tim.
Commend me to my loving countrymen,— ^note

First Sen.
These words become your lips as they pass thorough ^note them ^note. ^note

Sec. Sen.
And enter in our ears like great triumphers
In their applauding gates.

Tim.
Commend me to them;
And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses ^note,
Their pangs of love, with other incident throes ^note
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage ^note, I will ^note some kindness do them ^note:
I'll teach ^note them to ^note prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

First Sen.
I like this well; he will return again. ^note

Tim.
I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence ^note of degree
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his ^note haste ^note,
Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself: I pray you, do my greeting.

Flav.
Trouble ^note him ^note no further; thus you still shall find him.

Tim.
Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;
Who ^note once a day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle.
Lips, let sour ^note words go by and language end:
What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
Graves only be men's works, and death their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Retires ^note to his cave.

First Sen.
His discontents are unremoveably ^note
Coupled to nature ^note. ^note

Sec. Sen.
Our hope in him is dead: let us return,
And strain what other means is left unto us
In our dear ^note peril.

First Sen.
It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

^note

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