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

Flam.
My dear lord.

Tim.
What if it should be so—

Fla.
My dear lord.

Tim.
I'll have it so—My steward!

Fla.
Here, my lord.

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

Fla.
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 VI. The CITY. Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting them with attendants.

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

2 Sen.
Most true; the law shall bruise 'em.

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

1 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 cowardise,
But with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe:
And with such sober and unnoted passion
He did behave his anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

1 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 came 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 rayment, carelesly,
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill?

Alc.
My lord!—

1 Sen.
You cannot make gross sins look clear,
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 battel,
And not endure all threatnings, 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
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in suff'ring. Oh my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good:
Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sin's extreamest gust,
But in defence, by mercy 'tis most just.
To be in anger, is impiety:
But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.

2 Sen.
You breathe in vain.

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

1 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?

2 Sen.
He has made too much plenty with 'em,
He's a sworn rioter; he has a sin
That often drowns him, and takes valour prisoner.
Were there no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him. In that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions. 'Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous.

1 Sen.
He dies.

Alc.
Hard fate! he might have dy'd 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;
For law is strict, and war is nothing more.

1 Sen.
We are for law, he dies, urge it no more,
On height of our displeasure: friend, or brother,
He forfeits his own blood, that spills another.

Alc.
Must it be so? it must not be:

My lords, I do beseech you know me.

2 Sen.
How?

Alc.
Call me to your remembrances.

3 Sen.
What!—

Alc.
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 grace.
My wounds ake at you.

1 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.

1 Sen.
If after two days shine, Athens contains thee
Attend our weightier judgment.
And, (not to swell our spirit,)
He shall be executed presently. [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 mony, and let out
Their coin upon large interest; I my self,
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 banisht,
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 VII. Timon's house. Enter divers Senators at several doors.

1 Sen.

The good time of the day to you, Sir.

2 Sen.

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

1 Sen.

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

2 Sen.

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

1 Sen.

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 conjur'd me beyond them, and I must needs appear.

2 Sen.

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.

1 Sen.

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

2 Sen.

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

1 Sen.

A thousand pieces.

2 Sen.

A thousand pieces!

1 Sen.

What of you?

3 Sen

He sent to me, Sir—here he comes.

Tim.

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

1 Sen.

Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.

2 Sen.

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 recompence this long stay: feast your ears with the musick a while; if they will fare so harshly as on the trumpets sound: we shall to't presently.

1 Sen.

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.

2 Sen.

My noble lord.

Tim.

Ah my good friend, what cheer?

2 Sen.

My 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.

2 Sen.
If you had sent but two hours before—

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

2 Sen.
All cover'd dishes!

1 Sen.
Royal chear, I warrant you.

3 Sen.
Doubt not that, if mony and the season can yield it.

1 Sen.
How do you? what's the news?

3 Sen.

Alcibiades is banisht: hear you of it?

Both.

Alcibiades banish'd!

3 Sen.

'Tis so, be sure of it.

1 Sen.
How? how?

2 Sen.
I pray you upon what?

Tim.
My worthy friends, will you draw near?

3 Sen.
I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.

2 Sen.
This is the old man still.

3 Sen.
Will't hold? will't hold?

2 Sen.
It does, but time will, and so—

3 Sen.
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 your selves prais'd: 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.

Some speak.
What does his lordship mean?

Some other.
I know not.

Tim.
May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends: smoke, and lukewarm water
Is your perfection. This is Timon's last.
Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reaking 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, vapors, and minute-jacks
Of man and beast; the infinite malady
Crust you quite o'er!—What, dost thou go?

Soft, take thy physick first—thou too—and thou— [Throwing the dishes at them, and drives 'em out.
Stay, I will lend thee mony, 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. Re-enter the Senators.

1 Sen.
How now, my lords?

2 Sen.
Know you the quality of lord Timon's fury!

3 Sen.
Push, did you see my cap?

4 Sen.
I've lost my gown.

1 Sen.

He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has beat it out of my cap. Did you see my jewel?

2 Sen.
Did you see my cap?

3 Sen.
Here 'tis.

4 Sen.
Here lyes my gown.

1 Sen.
Let's make no stay.

2 Sen.
Lord Timon's mad.

3 Sen.
I feel't upon my bones.

4 Sen.
One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. [Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens.

Enter Timon.
&plquo;Let me look back upon thee, O thou wall,
&plquo;That girdlest in those wolves! dive in the earth,
&plquo;And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
&plquo;Obedience fail in children; slaves and fools
&plquo;Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
&plquo;And minister in their steads to general filths.
&plquo;Convert o'th' instant, green, virginity
&plquo;Do't in your parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast,
&plquo;Rather than render back; out with your knives,
&plquo;And cut your trusters throats. Bound servants, steal;
&plquo;Large-hande drobbers your grave masters are,
&plquo;And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;
&plquo;Thy mistress is o'th' brothel. Son of sixteen,
&plquo;Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping sire,
&plquo;And with it beat his brains out. Fear and Piety,
&plquo;Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
&plquo;Domestick awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
&plquo;Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,
&plquo;Degrees, observances, customs and laws,
&plquo;Decline to your confounding contraries!
&plquo;And yet confusion live! plagues incident to men,
&plquo;Your potent and infectious fevers heap
&plquo;On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold Sciatica,

&plquo;Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
&plquo;As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty
&plquo;Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
&plquo;That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
&plquo;And drown themselves in riot. Itches, blains,
&plquo;Sow all the Athenian bosoms, and their crop
&plquo;Be general leprosie: breath infect breath,
&plquo;That their society (as their friendship) may
&plquo;Be meerly poison. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
&plquo;But nakedness, thou detestable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns:
Timon will to the woods, where he shall find
Th' unkindnest beast much kinder than mankind.
The gods confound (hear me you good gods all)
Th' Athenians both within and out that wall;
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow,
To the whole race of mankind, high and low. [Exit. SCENE II. Timon's house. Enter Flavius with two or three servants.

1 Ser.
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.

1 Ser.
Such a house broke!
So noble a Master faln! all gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him?

&plquo;2 Ser.
&plquo;As we do turn our backs
&plquo;From our companion, thrown into his grave,
&plquo;So his familiars to his buried fortunes
&plquo;Slink all away, leave their false vows with him
&plquo;Like empty purses pick'd: and his poor self
&plquo;A dedicated beggar to the air,
&plquo;With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
&plquo;Walks like Contempt alone.—More of our fellows. Enter other servants.

Fla.
All broken implements of a ruin'd house!

3 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.

Fla.
Good fellows all,
The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Where-ever 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 mony, they embrace and part several ways.
Oh the fierce 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 vanish'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 enquire him out.
I'll ever serve his mind with my best will,
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit. SCENE III. The WOODS. Enter Timon.

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 dividant, touch with several fortunes,
The greater scorns the lesser. Not ev'n nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and deny't that lord,
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:
It is the pasture lards the beggar's sides,

The want that makes him lean. Who dares? who dares,
In purity of manhood, stand upright,
And say, this man's flatterer? if one be,
So are they all, for every † ^notegreeze of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: ^{a note}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 phang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! [Digging the earth.
Who seeks for better of thee, sawce 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! thus much of this will make
Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;
Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.
&plquo;You gods! why this? what this? you gods? why, this
&plquo;Will lug your priests and servants from your sides:
&plquo;Pluck stout mens pillows from below their heads.
&plquo;This yellow slave
&plquo;Will knit and break religions; bless th' accurs'd;
&plquo;Make the hoar leprosie ador'd; place thieves,
&plquo;And give them title, knee, and approbation
&plquo;With senators on the bench: this is it
&plquo;That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
&plquo;She, whom the spittle-house and ulcerous sores
&plquo;Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
&plquo;To th' April day again. Come, damned earth,
&plquo;Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds
&plquo;Among the rout of nations, I will make thee

&plquo;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 out for earnest. [Keeping some gold. SCENE IV. Enter Alcibiades with drum and fife in warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra.

Alc.
What art thou there? speak.

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

Alc.
What is thy name? is man so hateful to thee,
That art thy self 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 as I know thee
I not desire to know. Follow thy drum,
With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules,
Religious cannons, civil laws are cruel,
Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

Phry.
Thy lips rot off!

Tim.
I will not kiss thee, then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.

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.
Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?

Tim.

None, but to maintain my opinion.

Alc.
What is it, Timon?

Tim.

Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man: if thou dost perform, confound thee, for thou art a man.

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.

Tim.
As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

Timan.
Is this th' Athenian minion, whom the world
Voic'd so regardfully?

Tim.
Art thou Timandra?

Timan.
Yes.

Tim.
Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee:
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust:
Make use of thy salt hours, season the slaves
For tubs and baths, bring down the rose-cheek'd youth
To th' subfast, and the diet.

Timan.
Hang thee, monster!

Alc.
Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof 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.
War'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;
&plquo;Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
&plquo;Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
&plquo;In the sick air: Let not thy sword skip one,
&plquo;Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
&plquo;He is an usurer. Strike me the matron,
&plquo;It is her habit only that is honest,
&plquo;Her self's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps
That through the window-barn bore at mens eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse. 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 by thy self. Speak not, be gone.

Alc.
Hast thou gold yet?
I'll take the gold thou giv'st me, not thy counsel.

Tim.
Dost thou, or dost thou not, heav'n's curse upon thee.

Both.
Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?

Tim.
Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whore a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant, you're not othable,
Although I know you'll swear, terribly swear
Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
Th' immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths:
I'll trust to your conditions, be whores still.
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up.
Let your close fire predomitate his smoak,
And be no turn-coats: yet may your pains six months
Be quite contrary. Make false hair, and thatch
Your poor thin roofs with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter:
Wear them, betray with them; and whore on still.
Paint 'till a horse may mire upon your face;
A pox of wrinkles!

Both.
Well, more gold—what then?
Believe that we'll do any thing for gold.

Tim.
Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man, strike their sharp shins,
And mar mens spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the Flamen,
That scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself. Down with the nose,
Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee
Smells from the gen'ral weal. Make curl'd-pate ruffians bald

And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you. Plague all;
That your activity may defeat, and quell
He source of all erection.—There's more gold.
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

Both.
More counsel with more mony, bounteous Timon.

Tim.
More whore, more mischief first; I've given you earnest.

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,
And take thy beagles with thee.

Alc.
We but offend him: strike. [Exeunt. SCENE V.

&plquo;Tim.
&plquo;That Nature being sick of man's unkindness
&plquo;Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou
&plquo;Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast
&plquo;Teems, and feeds all; oh thou! whose self-same mettle
&plquo;(Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puft)
&plquo;Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
&plquo;The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm;
&plquo;With all th' abhorred births below crisp heav'n
&plquo;Whereon Hyperion's quickning fire doth shine;
&plquo;Yield him, who all thy human sons do's hate,
&plquo;From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
&plquo;Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb;
&plquo;Let it no more bring out ingrateful man.

&plquo;Go great with tygers, dragons, wolves and bears,
&plquo;Teem with new monsters whom thy upward face
&plquo;Hath to the marbled mansion all above
&plquo;Never presented—O, a root—dear thanks!
&plquo;Dry up thy marrows, veins, and plough-torn leas,
&plquo;Whereof ingrateful man with liqu'rish draughts,
&plquo;And morsels unctious, greases his pure mind,
&plquo;That from it all consideration slips— SCENE VI. 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, lye soft,
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
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 my self.

Apem.
Thou'ast cast away thy self, being like thy self,
So long a mad-man, now a fool. What, think'st thou
&plquo;That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
&plquo;Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moist trees
&plquo;That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
&plquo;And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook
&plquo;Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning taste
&plquo;To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
&plquo;Whose naked natures live in all the spight
&plquo;Of wreakful heav'n, whose bare unhoused trunks
&plquo;To the conflicting elements expos'd,
&plquo;Answer meer nature; bid them flatter thee;
&plquo;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 flatter'st misery.

Apem.
I flatter not, but say thou art a caytiff.

Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?

Apem.
To vex thee.

Tim.
Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Dost please thy self in't?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
What! a knave too?

Apem.
If thou didst put this sowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
Dost it enforcedly: thou'dst courtier be
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Out-lives incertain pomp; is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never compleat;

The other, at high wish: Best states, contentless,
Have a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

Tim.
Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
&plquo;Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
&plquo;With favour never claspt; but bred a dog.
&plquo;Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath proceeded
&plquo;Through sweet degrees that this brief world affords,
&plquo;To such, as may the passive drugs of it
&plquo;Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thy self
&plquo;In general riot, melted down thy youth
&plquo;In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
&plquo;The icy precepts of respect, but followed
&plquo;The sugar'd game before thee. But my self,
&plquo;Who had the world as my confectionary,
&plquo;The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men
&plquo;At duty more than I could frame employments;
&plquo;That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
&plquo;Do on the oak; have with one winter's brush
&plquo;Fall'n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
&plquo;For every storm that blows. I to bear this,
&plquo;That never knew but better, is some burthen.
&plquo;Thy nature did commence in suff'rance, time
&plquo;Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
&plquo;They never flatter'd thee. What hast thou given?
&plquo;If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
&plquo;Must be thy subject, who in spight put stuff
&plquo;To some she-beggar, and compounded thee
&plquo;Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone—
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been knave and flatterer.

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—
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it.* ^note






[Eating a root.

Apem.
What wouldst thou have to Athens?

Tim.
Thee thither in a whirlwind; if thou wilt,
Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

Apem.
Here is no use for gold.

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

Apem.
Where ly'st a-nights, Timon?

Tim.
Under that's above me.
Where feed'st thou a-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 wouldst thou send it?

Tim.
To sawce thy dishes.

Apem.

The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mockt thee, for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despis'd for the contrary. * ^note

things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim.

Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem.

Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim.

Wouldst thou have thy self fall in the confusion of men, or remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem.

Ay, Timon.

&plquo;Tim.

&plquo;A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'attain to. If thou wert a lion, the fox would beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accus'd by the the ass; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and still thou liv'st but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee; and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury. Wert thou a bear, thou wouldst be kill'd by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, and seest not thy loss in transformation.&prquo;

Apem.

If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou might'st have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim.

How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

Apem.
Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

Tim.
Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.

Apem.
A plague on thee. Thou art too bad to curse.

Tim.
All villains that do stand by thee, are pure.

Apem.
There is no leprosie but what thou speak'st.

Tim.
I'll beat thee; but I should infect my hands.

Apem.
I would my tongue could rot them off.

Tim.
Away thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Apem.
Would thou wouldst burst.

Tim.

Away thou tedious rogue, I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.

Apem.

Beast!

Tim.

Slave!

Apem.

Toad!

Tim.
Rogue! rogue! rogue!
I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
But ev'n the meer necessities upon it.
Then Timon presently prepare thy grave;
Lye 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.
&plquo;O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce [Looking on the gold.
&plquo;'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
&plquo;Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars,
&plquo;Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
&plquo;Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow,
&plquo;That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
&plquo;That souldrest close impossibilities,
&plquo;And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
&plquo;To every purpose; Oh thou touch of hearts!
&plquo;Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
&plquo;Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
&plquo;May have the world in empire.

Apem.
Would 'twere so,
But not 'till I am dead. I'll say th'hast gold;
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim.
Throng'd to?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Apem.
Live, and love thy misery,

Tim.
Long live so, and so die. I am quit.

Apem.

Mo things like men—Eat, Timon, and abhor them. 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.