SCENE I.
The same. A Room in a Senator's House.
Enter Senator, with Papers in his Hand.
-- 23 --
Sen.
And late, five thousand;14Q1149—To Varro, and to Isidore,
He owes nine thousand;—besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold:
If I would sell my horse, and buy ten more note note
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me straight
Ten able note horses: No porter at his gate;
But rather one that smiles, and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
Can found his state on safety note.—Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!
Enter Caphis.
Cap.
Here, sir; What is your pleasure?
Sen.
Get on your cloak, and haste you to lord Timon;
Impórtune him for my monies: be not ceas'd
With slight denial; nor then silenc'd, when note—
Commend me to your master—and the cap
Plays in the right hand, † thus: but tell him, sirrah, note
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit: I love, and honour him;
But must not break my back, to heal his finger:
Immediate are my needs; and my relief
Must not be tost and turn'd to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
Put on a most importunate aspéct,
A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
-- 24 --
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes note now a phœnix. Get you gone.
Cap.
I go, sir.
Sen.
I go, sir? take the bonds &dagger2; along with you;
And have the dates in compt. note
Cap.
I will, sir.
Sen.
Go.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The same. A Hall in Timon's House.
Enter Steward, with many Bills in his Hand.
Ste.
No care, no stop! so senseless of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot: Takes no account
How things go from him; nor resumes note no care
Of what is to continue; Never mind14Q1150
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? he will not hear, 'till note feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.
Cap.
Good even, Varro: What,
You come for money?
Var.
Is't not your business too?
Cap.
It is;—And yours too, Isidore?
Isi.
It is so.
Cap.
'Would we were all discharg'd.
Var.
I fear't.
Cap.
Here comes the lord.
Enter Timon, with Alcibiades, Lords, &c.
Tim.
So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again,
My Alcibiades.—With me? What is your will?
-- 25 --
Cap.
My lord, here &dagger2; is a note of certain dues.
Tim.
Dues? Whence are you?
Cap.
Of Athens here, my lord.
Tim.
Go to my steward.
Cap.
Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days this month:
My master is awak'd by great occasion,
To call upon his own; and humbly prays you,
That with your other noble parts you'll suit,
In giving him his right.
Tim.
Mine honest friend,
I pr'ythee, but repair to me next morning.
Cap.
Nay, good my lord,—
Tim.
Contain thyself, good friend.
Var.
One Varro's &dagger2; servant, my good lord,—
Isi.
From &dagger2; Isidore;
He humbly prays your speedy payment,—
Cap.
If you
Did know, my lord, my master's wants,—
Var.
'Twas due
On forfeiture, my lord, six weeks, and past.
Isi.
Your steward puts me off, my lord; and I
Am sent expressly to your lordship.
Tim.
Give me breath:—
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
[Exeunt Alcibiades, Lords, &c.
I'll wait upon you instantly.—Come hither; Pray you,
[to the Steward.
How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd
With clamorous demands of note broken note bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?
-- 26 --
Ste.
Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business:
Your impórtunacy cease, 'till after dinner;
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not pay'd.
Tim.
Do so, my friends:—
See them well entertain'd.
[Exit Timon.
Ste.
Pray you, draw near.
[Exit Steward.
Enter Apemantus, and a Fool.
Cap.
Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus;
let's note have some sport with 'em.
Var.
Hang him, he'll abuse us.
Isi.
A plague upon him, dog!
Var.
How dost, fool?
Ape.
Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
Var.
I speak not to thee.
Ape.
No, 'tis to thyself.—Come away.
Isi.
There's the fool hangs on your back already.
Ape.
No, thou stand'st single, thou art not on him yet.
Cap.
Where's the fool now?
Ape.
He last ask'd the question. Poor rogues, and
usurer's men; bawds between gold and want!
Ser.
What are we, Apemantus?
Ape.
Asses.
Ser.
Why?
Ape.
That you ask me, what you are, and do not know
yourselves.—Speak to 'em, fool.
Foo.
How do you, gentlemen?
Ser.
Gramercies, good fool: How does your mistress:
Foo.
She's e'en setting on water, to scald such chickens
as you are. 'Would we could see you at Corinth!
Ape.
Good! gramercy.
-- 27 --
Enter a Page.
Foo.
Look you, here comes my master's page.
Pag.
Why, how now, captain? what do you in this
wise company note?—How dost thou, Apemantus?
Ape.
'Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might
answer thee profitably.
Pag.
Pr'ythee, Apemantus, read me the superscription
of these † letters; I know not which is which.
Ape.
Can'st not read?
Pag.
No.
Ape.
There will little learning dye then, that day
thou art hang'd. This † is to lord Timon; this † to
Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou'lt
dye a bawd.
Pag.
Thou wast whelp'd a dog; and thou shalt famish,
a dog's death. Answer not, I am gone.
[Exit Page.
Ape.
Even so thou out-run'st grace.—Fool, I will go
with you to lord Timon's.
Foo.
Will you leave me there?
Ape.
If Timon stay at home.—You three serve three
usurers?
Ser.
Ay; 'would they serv'd us!
Ape.
So would I; as good a trick as ever hangman
serv'd thief.
Foo.
Are you three usurers' men?
Ser.
Ay, fool.
Foo.
I think, no usurer but has a fool to his servant:
My mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come
to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and go
away merry; note but they enter my master's note house merrily,
and go away sadly: The reason of this?
Var.
I could render one.
-- 28 --
Ape.
Do it then, that we may account thee a whore-master,
and a knave; which notwithstanding, thou shalt
be no less esteemed.
Var.
What is a whore-master, fool?
Foo.
A fool in good cloaths, and something like thee.
'Tis a spirit: sometime, 't appears like a lord; sometime,
like a lawyer; sometime, like a philosopher, with
two stones more than's note artificial one: He is very often
like a knight; and, generally, in all shapes, that man goes
up and down in, from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit
walks in.
Var.
Thou art not altogether a fool.
Foo.
Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery
as I have, so much wit thou lack'st.
Ape.
That answer might have become Apemantus.
Ser.
Aside, aside; here comes lord Timon.
Re-enter Timon, and Steward.
Ape.
Come with me, fool, come.
Foo.
I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and
woman; sometime, the philosopher.
[Exeunt Fool, and Apemantus.
Ste.
Pray you, walk near; I'll speak with you anon.
[Exeunt Servants.
Tim.
You make me marvel: Wherefore, ere this time,
Had you not fully lay'd my state before me;
That I might so have rated my expence,
As I had leave of means?
Ste.
You would not hear me,
At many leisures I propos'd. note
Tim.
Go to:
Perchance, some single vantages you took,
When my indisposition put you back;
-- 29 --
And that unaptness made you note minister,
Thus to excuse yourself.
Ste.
O my good lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Lay'd 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, 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 dear note-lov'd lord,
Though you hear note now, yet now's note too late a time;14Q1151
The greatest of your note having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.
Tim.
Let all my land be sold.
Ste.
'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 reck'ning?
Tim.
To Lacedæmon did my land extend.
Ste.
O my good lord, the world note is but a word;
Were it all yours, to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone?
Tim.
You tell me true.
Ste.
If you suspect my husbandry, or falshood,
Call me before the exactest auditors,
And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
When all our offices have been opprest
With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
-- 30 --
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 wastful cock,
And set mine eyes at flow.
Tim.
Pr'ythee, no more.
Ste.
Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!
How many prodigal bits have slaves, and peasants,
This night englutted! Who now is not Timon's?
What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is lord Timon's?
Great Timon's, note noble, worthy, royal Timon's?
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 coucht.
Tim.
Come, sermon me no further:
No villanous bounty yet hath past my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
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 of hearts by borrowing,
Men, and men's fortunes, could I frankly use,
As I can bid thee speak.
Ste.
Assurance bless your thoughts!
Tim.
And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd,
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, ho! Flaminius! note Servilius!
Enter Flaminius, note Servilius, and other Servants.
Ser.
My lord, my lord,—
-- 31 --
Tim.
I will dispatch 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.
Fla.
As you have said, my lord.
&clquo;Ste.
&clquo;Lord Lucius, and Lucullus? hum!&crquo;
Tim.
Go you, sir, to the senators,14Q1152
(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.
Ste.
I have been bold,
(For that I knew it the most general way)
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't be?
Ste.
They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want treasure note, cannot
Do what they would; are sorry—you are honourable,
But yet they could have wish'd—they know not, but
Something hath been amiss—a noble nature
May catch a wrench—would all were well—'tis pity—
And so, intending other serious matters,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods,
They froze me into silence.
Tim.
You gods reward them!—
I pr'ythee, man, look cheerly: These old fellows
-- 32 --
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
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.—
Go to Ventidius,—Pr'ythee, be not sad,
Thou art true, and honest; ingenuously I speak,
No blame belongs to thee:—Ventidius lately
Bury'd his father; by whose death, he is stept
Into a great estate: when he was poor,
Imprison'd, and in scarcity of friends,
I clear'd him with five talents: Greet him from me;
Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd
With those sive note talents:—that had, give't these fellows,
To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think,
That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.
Ste.
I would, I could not think it; That thought is bounty's foe;
Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
[Exeunt.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
