Athens.
Flaminius waiting, Enter a servant to him,
Servant.
I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.
Flam.
I thank you, Sir.
Enter Lucullus.
Serv.
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
ewre to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are
very respectively welcome, Sir; fill me some wine.
And how does that honourable, compleat, free-hearted
Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord
and master?
Flam.
His health is well, Sir.
Lucul.
I am right glad that his health is well, Sir;
and what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
Flam.
Faith, nothing but an empty box, Sir, which,
in my lord's behalf, I come to entreat 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,
-- 182 --
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.
Enter a servant, with wine.
Serv.
Please your lordship, here is the wine.
Lucul.
Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise.
Here's to thee.
Flam.
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 Flaminius; thy lord's a bountiful
gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou knowest well
enough (altho' 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 boy, wink at me, and say, thou saw'st me not.
Fare thee well.
Flam.
Is't possible the world should so much differ,
1 noteAnd we alive that liv'd? fly, damned baseness,
To him that worships thee.
[Throwing the money away.
Lucul.
Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for
thy master.
[Exit Lucullus.
Flam.
May these add to the number that may scald 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,
-- 183 --
When he is turn'd to poison?
O! may diseases only work upon't:
And when he's sick to death, let not that part
(a) noteOf nurture, my lord paid for, be of power
To expel sickness, but prolong his hour!
[Exit.
SCENE II.
A publick Street.
Enter Lucius, with three strangers.
Luc.
Who, the lord Timon? he is my very good
friend, and an honourable gentleman.
1 Stran.
We know him for no less, tho' we are but
strangers to him. 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
estate shrinks from him.
Luc.
Fye, no, do not believe it: he cannot want for
money.
2 Stran.
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 shewed what necessity belong'd to't, and yet was
deny'd.
Luc.
How?
2 Stran.
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 shew'd in that.
For my own part, I must needs confess, I have received
some small kindnesses from him, as mony, plate,
jewels, and such like trifles, nothing comparing to
-- 184 --
his; 2 note
yet had he mislook'd him, and sent him to me,
I should ne'er have deny'd his occasion so many
talents.
Enter Servilius.
Ser.
See, by good hap, yonder's my lord, I have
sweat to see his Honour.—My honour'd lord—
[To Lucius.
Luc.
Servilius! you are kindly met, Sir. Fare thee
well, commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord,
my very exquisite friend.
Ser.
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?
Ser.
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 (a) note fifty times five hundred talents.
Ser.
But in the mean time he wants less, my Lord.
3 noteIf his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it 4 notehalf so faithfully.
-- 185 --
Luc.
Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
Ser.
Upon my soul, 'tis true, Sir.
Luc.
What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish my
self against such a good time, when I might ha' shewn
my self honourable? how unluckily it hap'ned, that I
should purchase the day before for a little part, and
undo a great deal of honour? Servilius, now before
the gods, I am not able to do—(the more beast, I
say)—I was sending to use lord Timon myself, these
gentlemen 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 Servilius,
will you befriend me so far, as to use my own
words to him?
Ser.
Yes, Sir, I shall.
[Exit Servilius.
Luc.
I'll look ye out a good turn, Servilius—
True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed;
And he, that's once deny'd, will hardly speed.
[Exit.
1 Stran.
Do you observe this, Hostilius?
2 Stran.
Ay, too well.
1 Stran.
Why, this is the world's soul;
Of the same piece 5 noteis 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 mony
Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks,
But Timon's silver treads upon his lip;
&wlquo;And yet, oh, see the monstrousness of man,
&wlquo;When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!&wrquo;
-- 186 --
He does deny him (6 notein respect of his)
What charitable men afford to beggars.
3 Stran.
Religion groans at it.
1 Stran.
For mine own part,
I never tasted Timon in my life;
Nor any of his bounties came o'er me,
To mark me for his friend. Yet, I protest,
For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue,
And honourable carriage,
Had his necessity made use of me,
I would have put my wealth into donation,
And the best half should (a) note have attorn'd to him,
So much I love his heart; but, I perceive,
Men must learn now with pity to dispence,
For policy sits above conscience.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter a third Servant 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.
Ser.
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 shews but little love or judgment in him.
-- 187 --
Must I be his last refuge? his friends, like physicians,
Thriv'd, give him over? must I take the cure
On me? h'as much disgrac'd me in't; I'm angry.
He might have known my Place; I see no sense for't,
But his occasions might have wooed 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? no:
So it may prove an argument of laughter
To th' rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool:
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.
Ser.
Excellent! your lordship's a goodly villain.
The devil knew not what he did, when he made
man politick; he cross'd himself by't; and I cannot
think, but in the end the villanies of man 7 notewill set
him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear
foul? 8 notetakes virtuous copies to be wicked: like those
that under hot, ardent, zeal would set whole Realms
on fire. Of such a nature is his politick love.
-- 188 --
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 liberal course allows;
Who cannot keep his wealth, must keep his house.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Changes to Timon's Hall.
Enter Varro, Titus, Hortensius, Lucius, and other servants of Timon's creditors, who wait for his coming out.
Var.
Well met, good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.
Tit.
The like to you, kind Varro.
Hor.
Lucius, why do we meet together?
Luc.
I think, one business does command us all.
For mine is mony.
Tit.
So is theirs, and ours.
Enter Philo.
Luc.
And Sir Philo's too.
Phi.
Good day, at once.
Luc.
Welcome, good brother. What d'you think
the hour?
Phi.
Labouring for nine.
Luc.
So much?
Phi.
Is not my lord seen yet?
Luc.
Not yet.
Phi.
I wonder: he was wont to shine at seven.
Luc.
Ay, 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:
-- 189 --
'Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse;
That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet
Find little.
Phi.
I am of your fear for that.
Tit.
I'll shew you how t' observe a strange event:
Your lord sends now for money.
Hor.
True, he does.
Tit.
And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,
For which I wait for mony.
Hor.
Against my heart.
Luc.
How strange it shows,
Timon in this should pay more than he owes!
And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,
And send for mony for 'em.
Hor.
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.
Var.
Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?
Luc.
Five thousand.
Var.
'Tis too much deep; and, it should seem by th' sum,
9 noteYour master's confidence was above mine;
Else, surely, his had equall'd.
Enter Flaminius.
Tit.
One of lord Timon's men.
Luc.
Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord
Ready to come forth?
Flam.
No, indeed, he is not.
Tit.
We attend his lordship; pray, signifie so much.
Flam.
I need not tell him that, he knows you are
too diligent.
-- 190 --
Enter Flavius in a cloak muffled.
Luc.
Ha! is not that his Steward muffled so?
He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
Tit.
Do you hear, Sir—
Var.
By your leave, Sir.
Flav.
What do you ask of me, my friend?
Tit.
We wait for certain mony here, Sir.
Flav.
If mony were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr'd 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 your selves 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.
Luc.
Ay, but this answer will not serve.
Flav.
If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you;
For you serve knaves.
[Exit.
Var.
How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter?
Tit.
No matter, what—he's poor, and that's revenge
enough. Who can speak broader than he that
has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against
great Buildings.
Enter Servilius.
Tit.
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,
My lord leans wondrously to discontent:
His comfortable temper has forsook him,
He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
Luc.
Many do keep their chambers, are not sick:
-- 191 --
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.
Ser.
Good Gods!
Tit.
We cannot take this for an answer.
Flam. [within]
Servilius, help—my lord! my lord.
SCENE V.
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 goal?
The place, which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, shew me an iron-heart?
Luc.
Put in now, Titus.
Tit.
My lord, here's my bill.
Luc.
Here's mine.
Var.
And mine, my lord.
Cap.
And ours, my lord.
Phi.
And our bills.
Tim.
Knock me down with 'em—cleave me to
the girdle.
Luc.
Alas! my lord.
Tim.
Cut out my heart in sums.
Tit.
Mine, fifty talents.
Tim.
Tell out my blood.
Luc.
Five thousand crowns, my lord.
Tim.
Five thousand drops pay that.
What yours—and yours?
Var.
My lord—
Cap.
My lord—
Tim.
Here tear me, take me, and the Gods fall on you.
[Exit.
-- 192 --
Hor.
Faith, I perceive, our Masters may throw
their caps at their mony; these debts may be well
call'd desperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em.
[Exeunt.
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 VI.
Changes to the Senate-House.
Senators and Alcibiades.
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:
-- 193 --
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, 1 note
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 2 noteand unnoted passion
3 note
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, &wlquo;set quarrelling
&wlquo;Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
&wlquo;Is valour mis-begot, and came into the world
&wlquo;When sects and factions were but newly born.&wrquo;
He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer
The worst that man can breathe, 4 note
and make his wrongs
-- 194 --
His out-side wear; hang like his rayment, carlesly:
And ne'er prefer his Injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
If wrongs be evils, and inforce 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 battle,
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 5 notesin's extreamest gust,
But, in defence,—6 note
by mercy, 'tis made 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 Byzantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life.
1 Sen.
What's that?
Alc.
I say, my lords, h'as done fair service,
-- 195 --
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,
7 note
He's a swoln 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,
8 noteAnd 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 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 receiv'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.
-- 196 --
3 Sen.
What!—
Alc.
I cannot think, but your age hath forgot me;
It could not else be, 9 noteI 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 day's shine, Athens contains thee,
Attend our weightier judgment.
1 note
And, (now to swell your 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 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 banisht,
It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
My discontented troops, 2 note
and lay for hearts.
-- 197 --
'Tis honour with most hands to be at odds;
Soldiers as little should brook wrongs, as Gods.
[Exit.
SCENE VII.
Changes to 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.
-- 198 --
2 Sen.
Ev'ry man here's so. What would he have
borrow'd 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.
Enter Timon and attendants.
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 recompense this long stay: feast your ears with
the musick a while; if they will fare so harshly as on
the trumpet's 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?
[The banquet brought in.
2 Sen.
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 cheer, 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?
-- 199 --
3 Sen.
Alcibiades is banish'd: 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 ye 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 yourselves 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—1 noteThe rest of
your foes, 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.
Some speak.
What does his lordship mean?
Some other.
I know not.
-- 200 --
Tim.
May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends: smoke, and lukewarm water
2 noteIs your perfection. This is Timon's last;
Who stuck 3 note
and spangled with your flatteries,
Washes it off, and springles 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.
Psha! 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.
-- 201 --
4 Sen.
Here lies 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.
1 noteACT IV.
SCENE I.
Without the Walls of Athens.
Enter &plquo;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-handed robbers 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,
-- 202 --
&plquo;Decline to your confounding contraries!
&plquo;And yet Confusion live!—Plagues, incident to men,
&plquo;2 noteYour 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!&prquo;
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns:
Timon will to the Woods, where he shall find
Th' unkindest beast much kinder than mankind.
The Gods confound (hear me, ye 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.
Changes to 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.
-- 203 --
1 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?
&plquo;2 Ser.
&plquo;As we do turn our backs
&plquo;From our companion, thrown into his grave,
&plquo;So his familiars (a) note from 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.&prquo;
Enter other servants.
Flav.
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 still,
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.
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.
&wlquo;Oh, the first wretchedness that glory brings us!&wrquo;
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
-- 204 --
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 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.
&wlquo;Tim.
&wlquo;3 note
O Blessing-breeding Sun, draw from the earth
&wlquo;Rotten humidity: below thy sister's orb
&wlquo;Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
&wlquo;Whose procreation, residence, and birth
&wlquo;Scarce is dividant, touch with several fortunes.
-- 205 --
&wlquo;The greater scorns the lesser. 4 note
Not ev'n nature,
&wlquo;To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
&wlquo;But by contempt of nature.
&wlquo;5 note
Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord,
-- 206 --
&wlquo;The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
&wlquo;The beggar native honour:
&wlquo;6 note
It is the Pasture lards the Weather's sides,
&wlquo;The Want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
&wlquo;In purity of manhood stand upright,
&wlquo;And say, this man's flatterer? if one be,
&wlquo;So are they all, 7 notefor every greeze of fortune
&wlquo;Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
&wlquo;Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique;
&wlquo;There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
&wlquo;But direct villany.&wrquo; 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.
&wlquo;Who seeks for better of thee, sawce his palate
&wlquo;With thy most operant poison!—What is here?
&wlquo;Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold?
&wlquo;8 note
No, Gods, I am no idle votarist.
-- 207 --
&wlquo;Roots, you clear heav'ns! thus much of this will make
&wlquo;Black, white; fair, foul; wrong, right;
&wlquo;Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.&wrquo;
&plquo;You Gods! why this? what this? you Gods! 9 note
why, this
&plquo;Will lug your priests and servants from your sides:
&plquo;1 notePluck stout men's 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;2 noteThat makes the waped 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.&prquo;—[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.
-- 208 --
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 thyself a man?
Tim.
3 noteI 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,
&wlquo;With man's blood paint the ground; gules, gules;—
&wlquo;Religious Canons, civil Laws are cruel;
&wlquo;Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine
&wlquo;Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
&wlquo;For all her cherubin look.&wrquo;
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.
-- 209 --
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
4 noteTo th' Tub-fast, and the diet.
Timan.
Hang thee, monster!
Alc.
Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
-- 210 --
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 hear'd 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;
&plquo;5 note
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,
-- 211 --
&plquo;It is her habit only that is honest,
&plquo;Herself's a bawd.&prquo; Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
6 note
That through the window-lawn bore at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ;
Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe,
Whose dimpled smiles from fools (a) note extort 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 be thyself! 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,
7 note
And to make whole a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
-- 212 --
Your aprons mountant; you're not othable,
Although, I know, you'll swear; terribly swear
Into strong shudders, and to heav'nly 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 predominate his smoak,
And be no turn-coats: 8 note
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. &wlquo;Crack the lawyer's voice,
-- 213 --
&wlquo;That he may never more false Title plead,
&wlquo;Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the Flamen,
&wlquo;That scolds against the quality of flesh,
&wlquo;And not believes himself. Down with the nose,
&wlquo;Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
&wlquo;Of him, 9 note
that his particular to forefend,
&wlquo;Smells from the gen'ral weal. Make curl'd-pate ruffians bald,
&wlquo;And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
&wlquo;Derive some pain from you.&wrquo; Plague all;
That your activity may defeat, and quell
The 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 money, 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.
-- 214 --
And take thy beagles with thee.
Alc.
We but offend him: strike.
[Exeunt Alcibiad. Phryn. and Timand.
SCENE V.
&plquo;Tim.
&plquo;That nature being sick of man's unkindness,
&plquo;Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou
&plquo;1 noteWhose 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 2 notebelow cript heav'n,
&plquo;Whereon Hyperion's quickning fire doth shine;
&plquo;Yield him, who all thy human sons does hate,
&plquo;From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
&plquo;Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb;
&plquo;3 note
Let it no more bring out to ingrateful man.
&plquo;Go great with tygers, dragons, wolves and bears,
&plquo;Teem with new monsters, 4 notewhom thy upward-face
-- 215 --
&plquo;Hath to the marbled mansion all above
&plquo;Never presented—O, a root—dear thanks!
&plquo;5 note
Dry up thy harrow'd 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.—&prquo;
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!
&wlquo;Apem.
&wlquo;This is in thee a nature but affected,
&wlquo;A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
&wlquo;From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
&wlquo;This slave-like habit, and these looks of care?
&wlquo;Thy flatt'rers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
&wlquo;6 note
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
-- 216 --
&wlquo;That ever Timon was. 7 note
Shame not these weeds,
&wlquo;By putting on 8 note
the cunning of a carper.
&wlquo;Be thou a flatt'rer now, and seek to thrive
&wlquo;By that which has undone thee, hinge thy knee,
&wlquo;And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
&wlquo;Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
&wlquo;And call it excellent.&wrquo; 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 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 (a) note moss'd 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,
-- 217 --
&plquo;To the conflicting elements expos'd,
&plquo;Answer meer nature; bid them flatter thee;
&plquo;Oh! thou shalt find—&prquo;
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 caytiff.
Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?
Apem.
To vex thee.
Tim.
Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Do'st please thyself in't?
Apem.
Ay.
Tim.
(a) noteWhat a knave thou!
&wlquo;Apem.
&wlquo;If thou didst put this sowre cold habit on
&wlquo;To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
&wlquo;Dost it enforcedly: thou'dst Courtier be,
&wlquo;Wert thou not beggar.&wrquo; Willing misery
Outlives 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; 9 notebut 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 thyself
-- 218 --
&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.&prquo; Hence! be gone—
1 noteIf 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.
[Eating a root.
Apem.
Here, I will mend thy feast.
Tim.
First mend my company, take away thyself.
Apem.
So I shall mend my own, by th' lack of thine.
-- 219 --
Tim.
'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht;
If not, I would it were.
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.
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 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 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 2 notefor too
much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but
art despis'd for the contrary. There's a medlar for
thee, eat it.
Tim.
On what I hate I feed not.
Apem.
Dost hate a medlar?
Tim.
Ay, though it look like thee.
Apem.
An th' hadst hated medlers sooner, thou
should'st have loved thyself better now. What man
didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after
his means?
-- 220 --
Tim.
Who, without those means thou talk'st of,
didst thou ever know beloved?
Apem.
Myself.
Tim.
I understand thee, thou hadst some means to
keep a dog.
Apem.
What 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 thyself 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 to attain to! If thou wert a lion, the fox
would beguile thee; if thou wert a lamb, the fox
would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion would
suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd
by the ass; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would
torment thee; and still thou liv'dst 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 seiz'd 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
-- 221 --
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.
Yonder comes a Poet, and a Painter. 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.
3 noteThou art the cap of all the fools alive.
Tim.
Would, thou wert clean enough to spit upon.
A plague on thee!
Apem.
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.
If I name thee.—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!
[Apem. retreats backward, as going.
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;
-- 222 --
That death in me at other's 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;4 note
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.&prquo;
Apem.
'Would 'twere so,
But not 'till I am dead! I'll say, thou 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.
[Exit Apem.
-- 223 --
SCENE VII.
Enter Thieves.
1 Thief.
Where should he have this gold? It is some
poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder:
the meer want of gold, and the falling off of friends,
drove him into this melancholy.
2 Thief.
It is nois'd, he hath a mass of treasure.
3 Thief.
Let us make the assay upon him; if he
care not for't, he will supply us easily: if he covetously
reserve it, how shall's get it?
2 Thief.
True; for he bears it not about him:
'tis hid.
1 Thief.
Is not this he?
All.
Where?
2 Thief.
'Tis his description.
3 Thief.
He; I know him.
All.
Save thee, Timon.
Tim.
Now, thieves.
All.
Soldiers; not thieves.
Tim.
Both too, and womens' sons.
All.
We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
Tim.
Your greatest want is, you want much of (a) note meet.
&wlquo;Why should you want? behold, the earth hath roots;
&wlquo;Within this mile break forth an hundred springs;
&wlquo;The oaks bear masts, the briars scarlet hips:
&wlquo;The bounteous huswife nature on each bush
&wlquo;Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?&wrquo;
1 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;
-- 224 --
You must eat men. &wlquo;Yet thanks I must you con,
&wlquo;That you are thieves profest: that you work not
&wlquo;In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
&wlquo;5 noteIn limited professions. Rascals, thieves,
&wlquo;Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o'th' grape,
&wlquo;Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth,
&wlquo;And so 'scape hanging. Trust not the physician,
&wlquo;His antidotes are poison, and he slays
&wlquo;More than you rob, (a) note takes wealth and life together,
&wlquo;Do villany, do, since you profess to do't,
&wlquo;Like workmen; I'll example you with thievery.
&wlquo;The Sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
&wlquo;Robs the vast Sea. The Moon's an arrant thief,
&wlquo;And her pale fire she snatches from the Sun.
&wlquo;6 note
The Sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
&wlquo;The Mounds into salt tears. The earth's a thief,
&wlquo;That feeds and breeds by a composture stoln
&wlquo;From gen'ral excrements: each thing's a thief.
&wlquo;The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
&wlquo;Have uncheck'd theft.&wrquo; 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
-- 225 --
I give, and gold confound you howsoever! Amen.
[Exit.
3 Thief.
H'as almost charm'd me from my profession,
by persuading me to it.
1 Thief.
4 note'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he
thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery.
2 Thief.
I'll believe him as an enemy; and give over
my trade.
1 Thief.
5 noteLet us first see peace in Athens.
2 Thief.
There is no time so miserable, but a man
may be true.
[Exeunt.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
