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.

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