DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

[Messenger], [Servant], [Servants], [Thief 1], [Thief 2]

Officers, Creditors, Messengers, Attendants, Amazons, Thieves, &c. &c.

Timon	Mr. Kean.
Lucius	Mr. Harley.
Lucullus	Mr. S. Penley.
Apemantus	Mr. Bengough.
Sempronius	Mr. Barnard.
Alcibiades	Mr. Wallack.
Flavius	Mr. Holland.
Flaminius	Mr. Kent.
Servilius	Mr. Coveney.
Caphis	Mr. Smith.
Varro	Mr. Ebsworth.
Philo [Philotus]	Mr. Buxton.
First Senator	Mr. Powell.
Second Senator	Mr. Gattie.
Poet	Mr. Hughes.
Painter	Mr. Minton.
Jeweller	Mr. J. Smith.
Merchant	Mr Marshall.
Old Athenian	Mr. Carr.

SCENE, Athens—and the Woods adjoining.

TIMON OF ATHENS. ACT I. SCENE I. —A Hall in Timon's House. Enter Poet and Painter opposite.

Poet.
GOOD day, sir.

Pain.
I am glad you are well.

Poet.
I have not seen you long; how goes the world?

Pain.
It wears, sir, as it goes.

Poet.
Ay, that's well known.
But what particular rarity? what so strange,
Which manifold record not matches? See— Enter Jeweller, Merchant, and others.
Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power
Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant.

Pain.
I know them both; t'other's a jeweller.

Mer.
O 'tis a worthy lord!

Jew.
Nay, that's most fixt.

Mer.
A most incomparable man, breath'd as it were
To an untirable and continuate goodness.

Jew.
I have a jewel here.

Mer.
O, pray, let's see't;
For the lord Timon, sir?

Jew.
If he will touch the estimate: but for that— [Exeunt Jeweller and Merchant.

Poet.
When we for recompence have prais'd the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.

Pain.
You're rapt, sir, in some work; some dedication
To the great lord?

Poet.
A thing slipt idly from me.
Our poesie is as a gum, which issues
From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i'th' flint
Shows not, till it be struck. What have you there?

Pain.
A picture, sir:—when comes your book forth?

Poet.
Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let's see your piece.
This comes off well and excellent.

Pain.
Indifferent.

Poet.
Admirable! how this grace
Speaks his own standing! what a mental power
This eye shoots forth! how big imagination
Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.

Pain.
It is a pretty mocking of the life. Enter two Senators, cross, and exeunt.

Pain.
How this lord's followed!

Poet.
The senators of Athens!

Pain.
Look—more! Enter two other Senators, cross, and exeunt.

Poet.
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors,
You see how all conditions tender down
Their service to lord Timon: yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself; even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace,
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain.
I saw them speak together.

Poet.
I have upon a high and pleasant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o'the mount
Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states; amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sov'reign lady fixt,
One do I personate of Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her iv'ry hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.

Pain.
'Tis conceived to the scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks
With one man beckoned from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount,
To climb his happiness, would be well exprest
In our condition.

Poet.
Nay, but hear me on:
All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment
Follow his strides; his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear;
Make sacred even his stirrup; and through him
Drink the free air.

Pain.
Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet.
When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood,
Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
(Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands) let him slip down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pain.
'Tis common:
A thousand moral paintings I can show,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To shew lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head. Trumpets sound. Enter Timon, addressing himself courteously to every suitor.

Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you? [To Messenger.

Mes.
Ay, my good lord; five talents is his debt,
His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up, which failing to him
Periods his comfort.

Tim.
Noble Ventidius! Well—
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he most needs me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have; I'll pay the debt, and free him.

Mes.
Your lordship ever binds him.

Tim.
Commend me to him, I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me;
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.

Mes.
All happiness to your honour? [Exit. Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim.
Freely, good father.

Old Ath.
Thou hast a servant named Flaminius.

Tim.
I have so: what of him?

Old Ath.
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim.
Attends he here or no? Flaminius! Enter Flaminius.

Flam.
Here, at your lordship's service.

Old Ath.
This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creature
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well: what further?

Old Ath.
One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride;
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,

In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pray thee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
The man is honest.

Old Ath.
Therefore he will be, Timon.
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim.
Does she love him?

Old Ath.
She is young and apt;
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim.
Love you the maid?

Flam.
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

Old Ath.
If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the Gods to witness, I will chuse
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

Tim.
How shall she be endowed,
If she be mated with an equal husband?

Old Ath.
Three talents on the present, in future all.

Tim.
This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long;
To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
What you bestow on her, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath.
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Tim.
My hand to thee, mine honour on my promise.

Flam.
Humbly I thank your lordship; never may
That state, or fortune, fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you! [Exeunt Flaminius and Old Athenian.

Poet.
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

Tim.
I thank you, you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Pain.
A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.

Tim.
Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man:
For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but outside: pencill'd figures are
Ev'n such as they give out. I like your work,
And you shall find I like it: wait attendance
'Till you hear further from me.

Pain.
The Gods preserve ye!

Tim.
Well fare you, gentleman. (To Merchant.) Give your hand,
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew.
What, my lord, dispraise?

Tim.
A mere satiety of commendations:
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew.
Believ't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

Tim.
Well mock'd.

Mer.
No, my good lord, he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.

Tim.
Look, who comes here.
Will you be chid?

Jew.
We'll bear it with your lordship.

Mer.
He'll spare none. Enter Apemantus.

Tim.
Good-morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

Apem.
'Till I be gentle, stay for thy good-morrow;
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

Tim.

Why dost thou call them knaves, thou know'st them not?

Apem.

Are they not Athenians?

Tim.

Yes.

Apem.

Then I repent not.

Jew.

You know me, Apemantus.

Apem.

Thou know'st I do, I call'd thee by thy name.

Tim.

Thou art proud, Apemantus,

Apem.

Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon.

Tim.

Whither art going?

Apem.

To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

Tim.

That's a deed thou'lt die for.

Apem.

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Tim.

How lik'st thou this picture, Apemantus?

Apem.

The best, for the innocence.

Tim.

Wrought he not well, that painted it?

Apem.

He wrought better that made the painter, and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain.

You're a dog.

Apem.

Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

Tim.

How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apem.

Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.

Tim.

What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apem.

Not worth my thinking. How now, Poet? (Poet advanees.

Poet.

How now, philosopher?

Apem.

Thou liest.

Poet.

Art thou not one?

Apem.

Yes.

Poet.

Then I lie not.

Apem.

Art not a poet?

Poet.

Yes.

Apem.

Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

Poet.

That's not feign'd, he is so.

Apem.

Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim.

What would'st do then, Apemantus?

Apem.

Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with all my heart.

Tim.

What thyself?

Apem.

Ay.

Tim.

Wherefore?

Apem.

That I had so hungry a wit, to be a lord. (Crosses to Merchant.) Art thou not a merchant?

Mer.

Ay, Apemantus.

Apem.

Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not!

Mer.

If traffick do it, the Gods do it.

Apem.

Traffick's thy God, and thy God confound thee!

Tim.

What trumpet's that?

Fla.
'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse
All of companionship.

Tim.
Pray entertain them—give them guide to us. [Exit Flaminius.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence,
'Till I have thankt you; and when dinner's done,
Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your sights. Trumpets. Enter Alcibiades, with the rest.
Most welcome, sir! (Bowing and embracing.

Apem.

So, so! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love amongst these sweet knaves, and all this courtesie! The strain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.

Alci.

You have sav'd my longing.

Tim.
Right welcome, sir.
Ere we do part, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Music. Exeunt. Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullus.

Luc.

What time a day is't, Apemantus?

Apem.

Time to be honest.

Luc.

That time serves still.

Apem.

The most accursed thou, that still omit'st it.

Lucul.

Thou art going to lord Timon's feast.

Apem.
Aye, to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.

Lucul.

Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Apem.

Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Lucul.

Why, Apemantus?

Apem.

Thou shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

Luc.

Hang thyself.

Apem.

No, I will do nothing at thy bidding; make thy requests to thy friend.

Lucul.

Away, unpeaceable dog, or—I'll spurn thee hence.

Apem.

I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' ass.

Luc.
He's opposite to humanity.
Come, shall we in, and taste lord Timon's bounty?
He, sure, outgoes the very heart of kindness.

Lucul.
He pours it out. Plutus, the God of gold,
Is but his steward: no meed but he repays
Seven-fold above itself; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.

Luc.
The noblest mind he carries,
That ever governed man.

Lucul.
Long may he live in fortunes! shall we in?

Luc.
I'll keep you company. [Exeunt. SCENE II. —Another Apartment in Timon's House. Loud Music. A Banquet. Enter Timon, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian Senators. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus discontentedly.

Semp.
Most honoured Timon, it hath pleased the Gods
To call my father's age unto long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich.
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.

Tim.
O, by no means,
Honest Sempronius, you mistake my love;
I gave it freely ever, and there's none
Can truly say he gives, if he receives.

Semp.
A noble spirit.

Tim.
Nay, ceremony was but devised at first,
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown:
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes,
Than they to me. [They sit down.

Luc.

We always have confest it.

Apem.

Ho, ho, confest it? hang'd it, have you not?

Tim.

O, Apemantus! you are welcome.

Apem.

No; you shall not make me welcome. I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

Tim.
Fie, th'art a churl; ye have got a humour there,
Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame.
Go, let him have a table by himself:
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for't.

Apem.

Let me stay, at thy peril, Timon; I come to observe, I give thee warning on't.

Tim.

I take no heed of thee; th'art an Athenian, therefore welcome; pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent.

Apem.

I scorn thy meat, 'twould choak me: for I should ne'er flatter thee. O you Gods! what a number of men eat Timon, and he sees them not?

Lest they should spy my wind-pipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

Tim.
My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

Lucul.

Let it flow this way, my good lord.

Apem.

Flow this way?—a brave fellow! he keeps his tides well: those healths will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:

Apemantus' Grace.
  Immortal Gods, I crave no pelf;
  I pray for no man but myself;
  Grant, I may never prove so fond,
  To trust man on his oath, or bond;
  Or a harlot for her weeping:
  Or a dog that seems a sleeping;
  Or a keeper with my freedom;
  Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
  Amen, amen; so fall to't:
  Rich men sin, and I eat root.
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

Tim.

Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

Alc.

My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

Luc.

Might we but have the happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.

Tim.

Why, I have often wisht myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes!

Luc.

I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

Apem.

Much!

Tim.

What means that trump? how now?

Flam.

Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.

Tim.
They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance.
Let music make their welcome.

Apem.
Heyday! what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
They dance, they are mad women.
I should fear, those that dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;
Men shut their doors against the setting sun. Ballet of Amazons. At the end of Ballet they Exeunt.

Tim.
They have done our pleasures much grace,
I am to thank them for it.—Flavius.

Flav.

My lord.

Tim.

The little casket bring me hither.

Flav.

Yes, my lord. More jewels yet—there's no crossing him in's humour,

Else I should tell him—well—

Tim.
O my good friends!
I have one word to say to you: look, my lord,
I must entreat you, honour me so much
As to advance this jewel, accept and wear it,
Kind my lord!

Luc.

I am so far already in your gifts—

Tim.

You do yourselves much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits. Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

Semp.

With more than common thanks I will receive it.

Tim.

And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis yours, because you lik'd it.

Lucul.

Oh, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.

Tim.
I take all, and your several visitations
So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give;

Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne'er be weary; Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich,
It comes in charity to thee; thy living
Is 'mongst the dead; and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitcht field.

Alc.
I defy land, my lord.

Semp.
We are so virtuously bound—

Tim.
And so am I to you.

Lucul.
So infinitely endeared—

Tim.
All to you. Lights! more lights, more lights.

Luc.
The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes, keep with you lord Timon.

Tim.
Ready for his friends. [Exeunt Lords.

Tim.
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I would be good to thee.

Apem.

No, I'll nothing; for if I should be brib'd too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou giv'st so long, Timon, I fear me, thou wilt give away thyself in proper shortly. What need these feasts, pomps, and vain glories?

Tim.

Nay, if you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come with better music.

Apem.

So—thou wilt not hear me now, thou shalt not then.

Serv.

May it please your honour, lord Lucius, out of his free love, hath presented to you four milk white horses, trapp'd in silver.

Tim.

I shall accept them fairly; let the presents be worthily entertained.

How now! what news?

Flam.

Please you my lord, that honourable gentleman,

lord Lucullus, entreats your company tomorrow to hunt with him, and hath sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.

Tim.

I'll hunt with him, and let them be received not without fair reward.

Serv.

My lord, there are certain nobles of the Senate newly alighted, and come to visit you.

Tim.

They are fairly welcome.

Flav.

I beseech your honour vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.—

Tim.

Near! why then another time I'll hear thee. I pry'thee let's be provided to show them entertainment.

Flav.

I scarce know how—what will this come to? He commands me to provide and give great gifts, and all out of an empty coffer—

ACT II. SCENE I. —A public place in the City. Enter Second Senator.

2d Sen.
And late, five thousand: to Varro and 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
Better than he; why, give my horse to Timon;
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me strait
Ten able horse. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles, and still invites
All that pass by it. It cannot hold; no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, hoa!
Caphis, I say. Enter Caphis.

Caph.
Here, Sir, what is your pleasure?

2d Sen.
Get on your cloak, and haste you to lord Timon:
Importune him for monies, be not ceast
With slight denial; nor then silenc'd with
“Commend me to your master”—and the cap
Plays me in the hand, thus:—But tell him, sirrah,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
And my reliance on his fracted dates
Has smit my credit. Get you gone;
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand. Get you gone.

Caph.
I go, Sir.

2d Sen.
Aye go, Sir.—Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in compt. [Exeunt. SCENE II. —changes to Timon's Hall. Enter Flavius, with many bills in his hand.

Flav.
No care, no stop? so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot? Takes no account
How things go from him, and resumes no care
Of what is to continue; he will not hear, 'till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie! [Retires. Enter Caphis, Varro, and other Servants.

Caph.
Good evening, Varro; what, you come for money?

Var.
Is't not your business too?

Caph.
It is. Would we were all discharged!

Var.
I fear it.

Caph.
Here comes the lord. Enter Timon, with Alcibiades and his Train.

Tim.
So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again,
My Alcibiades.—Well, what's your will? [They present their Bills.

Caph.
My lord, here is a note of certain dues.

Tim.
Dues? whence are you?

Caph.
Of Athens here, my lord.

Tim.
Go to my Steward.

Caph.
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.

Caph.

Nay, good my lord—

Tim.

Contain thyself, good friend.

Var.

One Varro—servant, my good lord—

Caph.
If you did know, my lord, my master's wants—

Var.

'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past.—

Caph.

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. [Exit Lords.
I'll wait upon you instantly.—Come hither [crosses to Flavius.
How goes the world that I am thus encount'red
With clam'rous claims of debt, or broken bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?

Flav.
Please you, gentlemen, [crosses to creditors.
The time is unagreeable to this business;
Your importunity cease, 'till after dinner;
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim.
Do so, my friends; see them well entertain'd. [retires up the stage.

Flav.

Pray you walk near. I'll speak with you anon.

Caph.

Aye, but this answer will not serve.

Flav.
If 'twill not serve, 'tis not as base as you;
For you serve knaves. (Flavius and Timon converse together)

Var.
How! what does his worship mutter?

Caph.
No matter what—his power, and that's
Revenge enough. Who can speak louder
Than he who has no house to put his head in [Exit creditors.
Such may rail against great buildings.

Var.
Faith I perceive our master's may throw
Their caps at their money. [Exeunt Caphis and Varro.

Flavius and Timon come forward.

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 expense,
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 you minister
Thus to excuse yourself.

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, I've shook my head and wept;
Yea, 'gainst th' authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close. My dear lov'd lord,
Though you hear now too late, yet now's a time;
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.

Tim.
Let all my land be sold.

Flav.
'Tis all engaged, 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.

Flav.
O my good lord, the world is but a world:
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 falshood,
Call me before th' 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

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,
And set mine eyes at flow.

Tim.
Pr'ythee, no more.

Flav.
Heav'ns! 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, 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 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 arguments of hearts by borrowing;
Men, and men's fortune could I frankly use,
As I can bid thee speak.

Flav.
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: in my friends I'm wealthy,
Within there, ho! Flaminius! Servilius! Enter Flaminius, and Servilius.

Ser.
My lord, my lord.

Tim.

I will despatch you sev'rally.

You to lord Lucius—to lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour to-day—commend me to their loves; and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have

found time to use 'em towards a supply of money; let the request be fifty talents.

Flam.

As you have said, my lord.

Flav.
Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum— (Aside

Tim.
Go also to the senators; [To Flavius
Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
Deserv'd this hearing; bid 'em send o'th, instant
A thousand talents to me.

Flav.
I've been bold,
(For that I knew it the most gen'ral 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?

Flav.
They answer in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
Do what they would; are sorry—You are honourable,
But yet they could have wish'd—they know not—
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
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows.
And nature, as it grows again tow'rd earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.—
Go to Sempronius—pr'ythee, be not sad,
Thou'rt true, and just; ingenuously I speak,
No blame belongs to thee: Sempronius lately
Bury'd his father, by whose death he's stepp'd
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 five 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. [Exeunt. END OF THE SECOND ACT. ACT III. SCENE I. —Lucullus's House in Athens. Flavius discovered waiting. Enter a Servant to him.

Ser.

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

Flav.

I thank you, sir.

Ser.

Here's my lord.

Lucul.

One of lord Timon's men! A gift, I warrant. Why, this hits right: I dreamt of a silver bason and ewer to-night. Flavius, honest Flavius, you are very respectively welcome, sir; fill me some wine. (Exit Servant.) And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord and master?

Flav.

His health is well, sir.

Lucul.

I am right glad that his health is well, sir; and what hast thou there under thy cloak, honest Flavius.

Flav.

Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which, in my lord's behalf, I come to intreat your honour to supply; who, having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, hath 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 ha' din'd with him, and told him on't; and come again to supper to him, on purpose to have him spend less. And yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming. Every man hath his fault, and honesty is his. I ha' told him on't but I could never get him from't.

Ser.

Please your lordship, here is the wine.

Lucul.
Flavius, I have noted thee always wise.
Here's to the thee.

Flav.

Your lordship speaks your pleasure.

Lucul.

I have observ'd 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 Flavius. 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 for thee; good man, wink at me, and say thou saw'st me not. Fare thee well.

Flav.
Is't possible the world should so much differ,
And we alive that lived? Fly, damn'd baseness,
To him that worships thee. (Throwing the money away.

Lucul.

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

Flav.
May these add to the number that may seald thee:
Let molten coin be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!
Has friendship such a faint and milky heart
It turns in less than two nights? O you Gods!
I feel my master's passion. This slave
Unto this hour has my lord's meat in him;
Why should it thrive, and turn to nutriment,

When he is turned to poison?
O, may diseases only work upon't:
And when he's sick to death, let not that part
Of nature, my lord paid for, be of power
To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! [Exit. SCENE II. —A public Street. Enter Lucius with 1st Senator.

Luc.

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

1st Sen.

But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and which I hear from common rumours; now lord Timon's happy hours are done and past, and his estates shrinks from him.

Luc.

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

1st Sen.

But believe you this, my lord, that not long ago one of his men was with the lord Lucullus, to borrow fifty talents, nay, urg'd extremely for't, and showed what necessity belong'd to't, and yet was deny'd.

Luc.

How?

1st Sen.

I tell you, deny'd, my lord.

Luc.

What a strange case was that! now, before the Gods, I am asham'd on't. Deny'd that honourable man? There was very little honour show'd in that. For my own part, I must needs confess, I have received small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels, and such like trifles, nothing comparing to his; yet had he mistook him, and sent him to me, I should ne'er have deny'd his occasion so many talents.

Flam.

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

Luc.

Flaminius, you are kindly met, sir. Fare

thee well—commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend.

Flam.

May it please your honour, my lord hath sent—

Luc.

Ha—what hath he sent? I am so much endear'd to that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank him, think'st thou? and what has he sent now?

Flam.

H'as only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with fifty talents.

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

Flam.
But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.
If his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it half so faithfully.

Luc.

Dost thou speak seriously, Flaminius?

Flam.

By my soul 'tis true, sir.

Luc.

What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish myself against such a good time, when I might ha' shown myself honourable! how unluckily it happened that I should purchase the day before for a little dirt, and undo a great deal of honour? Flaminius, now before the Gods, I am not able to do— (the more beast, I say)—I was sending to use lord Timon myself, this gentleman can witness; but I would not for the wealth of Athens, I had don't 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, that I cannot pleasure such an honourable gentleman. Good Flaminius, will you befriend me so far, as to use my own words to him?

Flam.

Yes, sir, I shall.

Luc.
I'll look ye out a good turn, Flaminius.
True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed;
And he, that's once deny'd, will hardly speed. [Exit Lucius and 1st Senator.

Flam.
Why, this is the world's soul;
Of the same piece is every flatterer's spirit:
Who can call him his friend,
That dips in the same dish? for, in my knowing,
Timon has been to this lord as a father,
And kept his credit with his bounteous purse:
Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks,
But Timon's silver rests upon his lip;
And yet, oh, see the monstrousness of man,
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!
He does deny him, in respect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars. [Retires up. Flavius enters, with Sempronius.

Sem.
Must he needs trouble me in't, 'bove all others?—
He might have tried lord Lucius, or Lucullus;
And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these three
Owe their estates unto him.

Flav.
Oh, my Lord,
They've all been touch'd, and all are found base metal;
For they have all deny'd him.

Sem.
How! deny'd him?
Ventidius and Lucullus both deny'd him?
And does he send to me? three! hum—
It shows but little love or judgment in him.
Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,
Three, give him over! Must I take the cure
On me? H'as much disgrac'd me in't; I am angry.
He 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 received gift from him:
And does he think so backwardly of me,
That I'll requite it last?
I'd rather than the worth of thrice the sum,
H'ad sent to me first, but for my mind's sake:

I'd such a courage to have done him good.
But now return,
And with their faint reply this answer join:
Who 'bates mine honour, shall not know my coin. [Exit.

Flam.

Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did, when he made man politic; he cross'd himself by't; and I cannot think, but, in the end, the villanies of man will set him clear.

Flav.
This was my Lord's best hope; now all are fled,
Save the Gods only. Now his friends are dead;
Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards
Many a bounteous year, must be employ'd
Now to guard sure their master.
And this is all a lib'ral course allows;
Who cannot keep his wealth, must keep his house. [Exit Flavius and Flaminius. SCENE II. —Timon's Hall. Enter Varro, Caphis, and other servants of Timon's creditors, who wait for his coming out.

Var.

Caphis, why do we meet together?

Caph.
I think one business does command us all;
For mine is money.

Var.

So is theirs, and ours.

Caph.

And Sir Philo's too.

Phi.

Good day, at once.

Caph.

Welcome, good brother. What d'you think the hour?

Phi.
Labouring for nine. Is not my Lord seen yet?

Caph.

Not yet.

Phi.
I wonder: he was wont to shine at seven.

Caph.
Aye, but the days are waxed shorter with him.
You must consider that a prodigal's course

Is like the sun's, but not like his, recoverable, I fear:
Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse.

Phi.
I am of your fear for that.

Caph.
I'll show you how t'observe a strange event:
Your lord sends now for money.

Var.
True, he does.

Caph.
And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,
For which I wait for money.

Var.
Against my heart.

Caph.
'Tis e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,
And send for money for 'em.

Var.
I'm weary of this charge, the Gods can witness:
I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth;
Ingratitude now makes it worse than stealth.

Caph.
Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?

Var.

Five thousand.

Var.

One of lord Timon's men.

Caph.

Flaminius! sir, a word: pray is my lord ready to come forth?

Flam.

No, indeed he is not.

Caph.

We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much.

Flam.

I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent.

Caph.
Ha! is not that this steward muffled so?
He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.

Var.
Do you hear, sir?

Caph.
By your leave, sir.

Flav.
What do you ask of me, my friend?

Caph.
We wait for certain money here, sir.

Flav.
If money were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough.
Why then preferred you not your sums and bills,
When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?

Then they would smile and fawn upon his debts,
And take down th' interest in their glutt'nous maws;
You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;
Let me pass quietly:—
Believe't, my lord and I have made an end:
I have no more to reckon, he to spend. [Exit Flav. Enter Servilius.

Var.

Oh, here's Servilius; now we shall have some answer.

Ser.

If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from it. For take it of my soul,

Caph.
Many who keep their chambers are not sick:
And if he be so far beyond his health,
Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a clear way to the Gods.

Var.
We cannot take this for an answer.

Flam. [within]
Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim.
What, are my doors oppos'd against my passage?
Have I been ever free, and must my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
The place which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, shew me an iron heart?

Var.
Put in now, Caphis.

Caph.
My lord, here's my bill.

Phi.
Here's mine.

Var.
And mine, my lord.

Omnes.
And ours, my lord.

Tim.
Knock me down with 'em—cleave me to the girdle.

Var.
Alas! my lord.

Tim.
Cut out my heart in sums.

Caph.
Mine, fifty talents.

Tim.
Tell out my blood.

Var.
Five thousand crowns, my lord,

Tim.
Five thousand drops pay that.—
What yours—and yours?—

Var.
My lord—

Caph.
My lord—

Tim.
Here tear me, take me, and the Gods fall on you. [Exeunt. Scene changes. Re-enter Timon and Flavius.

Tim.
They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors!—devils.

Flav.
My dear lord,

Tim.
What if it should be so?—

Flav.
My dear lord,

Tim.
I'll have it so—My steward!

Flav.
Here, my lord.

Tim.
So fitly!—Go, bid all my friends again,
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius. All.—
I'll once more feast the rascals.

Flav.
O my lord!
You only speak from your distracted soul;
There's not so much left as to furnish out
A moderate table.

Tim.
Be it not thy care:
Go and invite them all, let in the tide
Of knaves once more: my cook and I'll provide. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. —The Senate-house. Senators and Alcibiades discovered.

1st Sen.
My lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's bloody;
'Tis necessary he should die:
Nothing embolden's sin so much as mercy.

Alc.
Health, honour, and compassion to the senate!

1st Sen.
Now, Captain.

Alc.
I am an humble suitor to your virtues:
For pity is the virtue of the law,
And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath stept into the law, which is past depth
To those that without heed do plunge into't.
He is a man, setting his fault aside,
Of virtuous honour, which buys out his fault;—
Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice,
But with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe.

1st Sen.
You undergo too strict a paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:
Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring man-slaughter into form, set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour mis-begot, and come into the world
When sects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer
The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His out-sides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly;
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.

Alc.
My lord.—

1st Sen.
It is not valour to revenge, but bear.

Alc.
My lords, then, under favour pardon me,
If I speak like a captain.
Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threat'nings, sleep upon't,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
Without repugnancy? but if there be
Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? why then, sure, women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;
The ass, more than the lion; and the fellow,
Loaded with irons, wiser than the judge;

If wisdom be in suff'ring. Oh, my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good:
To be in anger is impiety:
But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.

2d Sen.
You breathe in vain.

Alc.
In vain! his service done
At Lacedæmon, and Byzantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life.

1st Sen.
What's that?

Alc.
I say my lords, h'as done fair service,
And slain in battle many of your enemies;
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds?

2d Sen.
He has made too much plenty with 'em.
He's a sworn rioter.

1st Sen.
He dies.

Alc.
Hard fate! he might have died in war,
My lords, if not for any parts in him,
(Though his right arm might purchase his own time,
And be in debt to none;) yet more to move you,
Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both.
And, for I know your reverend ages love
Security, I'll pawn my victories,
My honours to you, on his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive't in valiant gore.

1st Sen.
We are for law, he dies, urge it no more,
On height of our displeasure.

Alc.
Must it be so? it must not be:
My lords, I do beseech you, know me.

2d Sen.
How?

Alc.
Call me to your remembrances.
I cannot think, but your age hath forgot me:
It could not else be, I should prove so base,
To sue and be deny'd such common favour.
My wounds ache at you.

1st Sen.
Do you dare our anger?
'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect;
We banish thee for ever.

Alc.
Banish me!
Banish your dotage, banish usury,
That make the senate ugly.

1st Sen.
If, after two day's shine, Athens contains thee,
Attend our weightier judgment. [Exeunt.

Alc.
Gods keep you old enough, that you may live
Only in bone, that none may look on you!
I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
While they have told their money, and let out
Their coin upon large interest; I myself
Rich only in large hurts.—All those, for this?
Is this the balsam that the usuring senate
Pours into captains' wounds? ha! banishment?
It comes not ill: I hate not to be banish'd.
It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;
Soldiers as little should brook wrongs, as Gods. [Exit. SCENE V. Timon's house. Enter Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius.

Luc.

The good time of the day to you, Sir.

Lucul.

I also wish it to you; I think this honourable lord did but try us this other day.

Sem.

Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him, as he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.

Luc.

It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.

Lucul.

I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear.

Sem.

In like manner was I in debt to my importunate business; but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my provision was out.

Lucul.

I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go.

Sem.

Every man here's so. What would he have borrow'd of you?

Luc.

A thousand pieces.

Sem.

A thousand pieces!

Luc.

What of you?

Sem.

He sent to me, Sir.—(Music announces Timon.) —Here he comes.

Tim.

With all my heart, gentlemen—and how fare you?

Sem.

Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.

Lucul.

The swallow follows not summer more willingly than we your lordship.

Tim.

Nor more willingly leaves winter: such summer birds are men.—Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the music awhile; if they will fare so harshly as on the trumpet's sound.

Lucul.

I hope, it remains not unkindly with your lordship, that I return'd you an empty messenger.

Tim.

O sir, let it not trouble you.

Sem.

My noble lord.

Tim.

Ah, my good friend, what cheer?

Sem.

Most honourable lord, I'm e'en sick of shame, that when your lordship, t'other day, sent to me, I was so unfortunate a beggar.

Tim.

Think not on't, sir.

Sem.

If you had sent but two hours before—

Tim.
Let it not cumber your better remembrance.
Come, bring in all together. Enter four Senators.

Lucul.

All covered dishes!

Sem.

Royal cheer, I warrant you.

Lucul.
Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it.

Tim.

My worthy friends, will you draw near?

Lucul.

This is the old man still.

Sem.

Will't hold? will't hold?

Lucul.

It does, but time will, and so—

Sem.

I do conceive.

Tim.

Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. Sit, sit. The Gods require our thanks. You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves praised; but reserve still to give, lest your Deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that one need not lend to another. For were your Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make the meat beloved, more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a dozen of them be as they are. The rest of your fees, O Gods, the senators of Athens, together with the common lag of people, what is amiss in them, you Gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they welcome.—Uncover, dogs, and lap!

Lucul. & Sem.

What does his lordship mean?

Tim.
May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends! smoke, and lukewarm water
Is your perfect image. This is Timon's last;
Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villany. Live loath'd and long—
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites—
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears—
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time-flies,
Cap-and-knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks;
Of man and beast the infinite malady

Crust you quite o'er!—What, dost thou go?
Soft, take thy physic first—thou too—and thou— [Throwing the dishes at them, and drives 'em 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. SCENE V. —Without the Walls of Athens.

Enter Timon.
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. 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. Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping sire,
And with it beat his brains out! Fear and piety,
Religion to the Gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries!
And yet confusion 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
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves in riot!—Nothing I'll bear from thee
But nakedness, thou detestable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns:
Timon will to the woods, where he shall find
Th' unkindest beast much kinder than mankind. [Exit. END OF THIRD ACT.

ACT IV SCENE I. —Timon's House. Enter Flavius, Flaminius, and Servilius.

Flam.
Hear you, good 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 by the righteous Gods,
I am as poor as you.

Ser.
Such a house broke!
So noble a master fall'n! all gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him!

Flam.
As we do turn our backs
From our companion, thrown into his grave—
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
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!

Ser.
Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows,
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 the 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: shake our heads, and say,
(As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes)
We have seen better days. Let each take some;
Nay put out all your hands; not one word more,
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. [He gives them money; they embrace, and part several ways. [Exeunt all but Flavius.
Oh, the first wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory, as 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,
When man's worst sin is, he does too much good.
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes Gods, does still mar men.
My dearest lord, blest, to be most accurs'd,
Rich, only to be wretched; thy great fortunes,
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful seat
Of monstrous friends; nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it:
I'll follow and inquire him out.
I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit. SCENE II. —The Woods. Timon discovered.

Tim.
O blessed, breeding sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity: below thy sister's orb
Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarce is divident, touch them with several fortunes;
The greater scorns the lesser.
Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:

Who dares, who dares,
In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, this man's a flatterer? if one be,
So are they all, for each degree of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villany. Then be abhorr'd,
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.—
Destruction fang mankind; earth, yield me roots! [Digging the earth.
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.
Roots, you clear heav'ns! what this? you Gods! why this
Will lug your priests and servants from your sides:
This yellow slave
Will knit and break religions; bless th' accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation.
With senators on the bench. Come damn'd earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature.—[March afar off.] Ha! a drum?—thou'rt quick,
But yet I'll bury thee—thou'lt go, strong thief,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
Nay, stay, thou art for earnest. [Keeping some gold. Enter Alcibiades, with drum and fife in warlike manner.

Alc.
What art thou there? speak.

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

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

Tim.
I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Alc.
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;
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel.

Alc.
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.

Alc.
I've heard in some sort of thy miseries.

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

Alc.
I see them now—then was a blessed time.
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want thereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band. I 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—

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

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

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

Alc.
Why, fare thee well,
Here's gold for thee.

Tim.
Keep it, I cannot eat it.

Alc.
When I have laid proud Athens on a heap—

Tim.
Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

Alc.
Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim.
The Gods confound them all then in thy conquest,
And, after, thee, when thou hast conquered!

Alc.
Why me, Timon?

Tim.
That by killing of 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: let not thy sword skip one,
Pity not honoured age for his white beard,
He is an usurer. Strike me the matron,
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps
That through the window-lawn bore at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ;
Set them down horrible traitors. Swear against objects,
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor sight of priest in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers.
Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! speak not, be gone.

Alc.
Strike up the drum tow'rds Athens; farewel, Timon:
If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

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

Alc.
I never did thee harm.

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

Alc.
Call'st thou that harm?

Tim.
Men daily find it. Get thee hence, away.

Alc.
We but offend him: strike. March. Drums and fifes. [Exeunt Alcibiades.

Tim.
That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,
Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all; oh thou! whose self-same mettle
(Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puft)
Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm;
With all th' abhorred births below crisp heav'n,
Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons does hate,

From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb;
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man.
Go, great with tygers, dragons, wolves, and bears,
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented—O, a root—dear thanks! Enter Apemantus.
More man? plague! plague!—

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. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit, and these looks of care?
Thy flatt'rers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these weeds,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatt'rer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee; hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus:
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome
To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just
That thou turn rascal: hadst thou wealth again,
Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.

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

Apem.
Thou'st cast away thyself, being like thyself,
So long a madman, now a fool. What, think'st thou,
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moist trees,
That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste
To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? call the creatures;
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heav'n, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
Oh! 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 flatt'rest misery.

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

Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?

Apem.
To vex thee.

Tim.
Alway's a villain's office, or a fool's.

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,
Wert thou not beggar.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

Tim.
Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath proceeded
Through sweet degrees that this brief world affords.
To such, as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command; thou would'st have plung'd thyself
In general riot, melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but followed
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionery,
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employments;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak; have with one winter's brush
Fall'n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows. I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burthen.

Thy nature did commence in suff'rance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st thou hate men?
They never flatter'd thee? Hence! be gone!

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.—

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. [Takes gold from bank.

Apem.
Here is no use for gold.

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

Apem.
Where liest o' nights, Timon?

Tim.
Under that's above me.
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.

Yonder comes more visitants. 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 too bad to curse.

Tim.
Away! away!—
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive:
I swoon to see thee.

Apem.
'Would thou would'st burst!

Tim.
Away, thou tedious rogue.

Apem.
Beast!

Tim.
Rogue! rogue! rogue! [Exit Apemantus.

I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
But ev'n 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. Enter two Thieves.

1st Thief.

Where should he have this gold? the mere want of gold, and the falling off of friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2d Thief.

It is nois'd he hath a mass of treasure.

1st Thief.

Let us make an assay upon him; if he care not for't, he will supply us easily.

2d Thief.

Is not this he?

1st Thief.
He; I know him.
Save thee, Timon.

Tim.
Now, thieves.

1st Thief.
We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

Tim.
Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth an hundred springs;
The oaks bear masts, the briars scarlet hips:
The bounteous housewife nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?

1st 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,
That you are thieves profest: that you work not
In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
In limited professions. Rascals, thieves,
Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' th' grape,
Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging. Trust not the physician,
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob. Take wealth, and live together,
Do villany, do, since you profess to do't,

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 mounds into salt tears. Each thing's a thief:
The laws, your curb and whip, 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, for nothing can you steal
But thieves do lose it: steal not less for what
I give, and gold confound you howsoever! [Exeunt. END OF THE FOURTH ACT. ACT V. SCENE I. —Woods, and Timon's Cave. Enter Flavius.

Flav.
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!
What change of honour desp'rate want has made!
H'as caught me in his eye, I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord
Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! 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 servant—

Tim.
Then I know thee not:
I ne'er had honest man about me; all
I kept were knaves, 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?

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?
It almost turns my dangerous nature wild.—
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's service;
For many so arrive at second masters,
Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true,
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;
That which I show, heav'n knows, is merely love,
Duty, and zeal, to your unmatched mind,
Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
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

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 from men:
Hate all, curse all, show charity to none;
But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men. Let prisons swallow 'em,
Debts wither 'em; 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. [Exit Timon into his cave. Enter two Senators.

1st Sen.

Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files as full as they report?

2d Sen.
I have spoke the least:
Besides, his expedition promises
Present approach.

1st Sen.
We stand much hazard if we bring not Timon.

2d Sen.
I met a captain, once mine ancient friend,
Who, tho' in general part we were oppos'd,
Yet an old love made a particular force,
And made us speak like friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
With letters of entreaty, which imported
His fellowship o' the cause against your city,
In part for his sake moved.

Flav.
It is in 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.

1st Sen.
Bring us to his cave.
It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
To speak with Timon.

2d Sen.
At all times alike.

Men are not still the same; 'twas time and griefs
That fram'd 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 it as it may.

Flav.
Here is his cave:
Peace and content be here—Lord Timon! Timon!
Look out, and speak to friends; th' Athenians,
By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee;
Speak to them, noble Timon. Enter Timon out of his cave.

Tim.
Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!—
Speak and be hang'd;
For each true word a blister, and each false
Be cauterizing to the root o' th' tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

2d Sen.
The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

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

1st Sen.
Oh! forget
What we are sorry for ourselves, in thee:
The senators, with one consent of love,
Intreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

2d Sen.
They confess
Tow'rd thee forgetfulness, too general, gross;
Which now the public body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter, feeling in itself
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And sends forth us to make their sorrow'd tender,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram.

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.

1st 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 with absolute power, and thy good name
Live with authority: soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.
Therefore, Timon—

Tim.
Well, sir, I will; therefore I will, sir; thus—
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That Timon cares not. If he sack fair Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by th' 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 chuse but tell him, that I care not.
And let him tak't at worst; for their knives care not,
While you have throats to answer. For myself,
There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp,
But I do prize it at my love, before
The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosp'rous Gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav.
Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim.
Why, I was writing of my epitaph,
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!

1st Sen.
We speak in vain.

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

1st Sen.
That's well spoke.

Tim.
Commend me to my loving countrymen.

1st Sen.
These words become your lips.

Tim.
Commend me to them,

And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, and losses,
Their pangs of love, with other incident throes,
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage, I will do
Some kindness to them, I'll teach them to prevent
Wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2d Sen.
I like this well, he will return again.

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 of degree,
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste;
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself—I pray you, do my greetings.

Flav.
Vex him 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;
Which once a-day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle.
Graves only be men's works, and death their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Exeunt. SCENE II. —Before the Walls of Athens. Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his forces.

Alc.
Sound to this coward and lascivious town
Our terrible approach. Sound a parley. The Senators appear upon the walls.
'Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice. 'Till now myself, and such
As slept-within the shadow of your power,
Have wander'd with our traverst arms, and breath'd
Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush,

When crouching marrow in the bearer strong
Cries, of itself, no more: now breathless wrong
Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease.

1st Sen.
Noble and young,
When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause to fear;
We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude, with loves
Above their quantity.

2d Sen.
So did we woo
Transformed Timon to our city's love
By humble message, and by promis'd 'mends:
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

1st Sen.
March on, oh, noble lord,
Into our city with thy banners spread;
By decimation and a tithed death,
If thy revenges hunger for that food
Which nature loaths, take thou the destin'd tenth:
And by the hazard of the spotted die,
Let die the spotted.

2d Sen.
Set but thy foot
Against our rampir'd gates, and they shall ope,
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say, thou'lt enter friendly.

1st Sen.
Throw thy glove,
Or any token of thine honour else,
That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
And not as our confusion; all thy powers
Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
Have seal'd thy full desire.

Alc.
Descend, and open your uncharged ports;
Those enemies of Timon's, and mine own,
Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof,
Fall, and no more; and, to atone your fears
With my more noble meaning, not a man
Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
Of regular justice in your city's bounds;
But shall be remedied by public laws
At heaviest answer.

Both.
'Tis most nobly spoken.

Alc.
Descend, and keep your words.

The Gates open. Senators, &c. come forth, and kneeling, deliver the Keys of the Town to Alcibiades. Flourish of Trumpets.

Alc.
Yet all's not done:
Vengeance must work. Where is that loathsome crew,
Whose black ingratitude corrodes the heart
Of Athen's noblest son?

1st Sen.
They wait your doom.
Guard them hither. Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other of Timon's former friends, brought in bound.

Alc.
Now, base dissembling villains,
Ye look'd more cheerly, when I found you guests
At Timon's feast.—While on his wealth ye throve,
And his full coffers, like his heart, stood open
To your free use.

Sem.
These are your doings ye vindictive Gods
I see you rise against ingratitude
And push us from the earth: I have deserv'd it.

Luc.
What law can judge the heart! what is my fault?

Alc.
What fault! oh heartless slave ye did deny
Lord Timon, certain vile and sorry drachms
In his distress, now Timon's star prevails,
And justice wrings your treasures from your gripe.

Luc.
What all my wealth, my pictures, statues, coin,
Plate—jewels—gems—

Lucul.
Yet spare, oh mighty chief,
All your need craves not, I've a mine of gold
A magazine to sack or save a city.

Alc.

And it shall buy you banishment, instead of public, shameful death. So that Lord Timon, whose will must seal your sentence, yield consent to so much mercy.

Lucul.
Mercy from him! Would I were Timon's dog
Rather than what I am. Egregious dotard!

Luc.
I have no heart to speak.—All swept away—
My hangings, couches, vestments wrought with gold.
Oh what a luckless piece of work is man!—

Alc.
Bring them along
To the lone wood, where wretched Timon haunts,
The exile of mankind. Enter a Soldier.

Sol.
My noble general, Timon is dead;
Entomb'd upon the very hem o'th' sea;
And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
With wax I brought away;

Alcibiades reads the epitaph.
Here lye I Timon, who all living men did hate,
Pass by, and curse thy fill, but stay not here thy gait.

These well express in thee thy latter spirits:
Tho' thou abhorr'dst us in our human griefs,
Scorn'dst our brains' flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard nature fall; yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
On thy low grave.—On: faults forgiven.—Dead
Is noble Timon, of whose memory
Hereafter more—bring me into your city,
And I will use the olive with my sword;
Make war breed peace; make peace stint war; make each
Prescribe to other,
Let our drums strike.— A march.—Curtain falls. THE END.

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