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.

Previous section