Ventidius talking with him7 note.
Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you?
Ven. Serv.
Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt;
His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up; which failing,
Periods his comfort.
Tim.
Noble Ventidius! Well;
I am not of that feather, to shake off
My friend when he must need me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him.
Ven. Serv.
Your lordship ever binds him.
Tim.
Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me.—
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after.—Fare you well.
Ven. Serv.
All happiness to your honour!
[Exit.
Enter an old Athenian.
Old Ath.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Tim.
Freely, good father.
Old Ath.
Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.
Tim.
I have so: what of him?
Old Ath.
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
Tim.
Attends he here, or no?—Lucilius!
Enter Lucilius.
Luc.
Here, at your lordship's service.
Old Ath.
This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creature,
-- 510 --
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir, more rais'd
Than one which holds a trencher.
Tim.
Well; what farther?
Old Ath.
One only daughter have I; no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.
Tim.
The man is honest.
Old Ath.
Therefore he will be, Timon:
His honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.
Tim.
Does she love him?
Old Ath.
She is young, and apt:
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.
Tim. [To Lucilius.]
Love you the maid?
Luc.
Ay, my good lord; and she accepts of it.
Old Ath.
If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.
Tim.
How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath.
Three talents on the present; in future all.
Tim.
This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long:
To build his fortune, I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter;
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.
Old Ath.
Most noble lord,
-- 511 --
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Tim.
My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
Luc.
Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not ow'd to you!
[Exeunt Lucilius and old Athenian.
Poet.
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
Tim.
I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away.—What have you there, my friend?
Pain.
A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
Tim.
Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: these pencil'd figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work,
And you shall find, I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear farther from me.
Pain.
The gods preserve you!
Tim.
Well fare you, gentleman8 note: give me your hand;
We must needs dine together.—Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.
Jew.
What, my lord! dispraise?
Tim.
A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.
Jew.
My lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give: but you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are prized by their masters. Believe't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
-- 512 --
Tim.
Well mock'd.
Mer.
No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.
Tim.
Look, who comes here. Will you be chid?
Enter Apemantus.
Jew.
We'll bear, with your lordship.
Mer.
He'll spare none.
Tim.
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
Apem.
Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.
Tim.
Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.
Apem.
Are they not Athenians?
Tim.
Yes.
Apem.
Then I repent not.
Jew.
You know me, Apemantus.
Apem.
Thou know'st, I do; I call'd thee by thy
name.
Tim.
Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem.
Of nothing so much, as that I am not like
Timon.
Tim.
Whither art going?
Apem.
To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim.
That's a deed thou'lt die for.
Apem.
Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Tim.
How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
Apem.
The best, for the innocence.
Tim.
Wrought he not well that painted it?
Apem.
He wrought better that made the painter;
and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.
Pain.
Y'are a dog.
Apem.
Thy mother's of my generation: what's she,
if I be a dog?
Tim.
Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
-- 513 --
Apem.
No; I eat not lords.
Tim.
An thou should'st, thou'dst anger ladies.
Apem.
O! they eat lords; so they come by great
bellies.
Tim.
That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem.
So thou apprehend'st it. Take it for thy labour.
Tim.
How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
Apem.
Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not
cost9 note a man a doit.
Tim.
What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem.
Not worth my thinking.—How now, poet!
Poet.
How now, philosopher!
Apem.
Thou liest.
Poet.
Art not one?
Apem.
Yes.
Poet.
Then, I lie not.
Apem.
Art not a poet?
Poet.
Yes.
Apem.
Then, thou liest: look in thy last work, where
thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow.
Poet.
That's not feign'd; he is so.
Apem.
Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee
for thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy
o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
Tim.
What would'st do then, Apemantus?
Apem.
Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord
with my heart.
Tim.
What, thyself?
Apem.
Ay.
Tim.
Wherefore?
Apem.
That I had no angry wit to be a lord 11Q094810 note.—Art
not thou a merchant?
Mer.
Ay, Apemantus.
-- 514 --
Apem.
Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
Mer.
If traffic do it, the gods do it.
Apem.
Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!
Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant.
Tim.
What trumpet's that?
Serv.
'Tis Alcibiades, and
Some twenty horse, all of companionship.
Tim.
Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.—
[Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me.—Go not you hence,
Till I have thank'd you; and when dinner's done1 note
Show me this piece.—I am joyful of your sights.—
Enter Alcibiades, with his Company.
Most welcome, sir!
Apem.
So, so, there.—
Aches contract and starve your supple joints2 note!—
That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
Alcib.
Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.
Tim.
Right welcome, sir:
Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
[Exeunt all but Apemantus.
Enter Two Lords.
1 Lord.
What time o' day is't, Apemantus?
-- 515 --
Apem.
Time to be honest.
1 Lord.
That time serves still.
Apem.
The most accursed thou, that still omit'st it.
2 Lord.
Thou art going to lord Timon's feast.
Apem.
Ay; to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.
2 Lord.
Fare thee well; fare thee well.
Apem.
Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
2 Lord.
Why, Apemantus?
Apem.
Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean
to give thee none.
1 Lord.
Hang thyself.
Apem.
No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make
thy requests to thy friend.
2 Lord.
Away, unpeaceable dog! or I'll spurn thee hence.
Apem.
I will fly, like a dog, the heels of the ass.
[Exit.
1 Lord.
He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
And taste lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
2 Lord.
He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward: no meed3 note
, but he repays
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.
1 Lord.
The noblest mind he carries,
That ever govern'd man.
2 Lord.
Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
1 Lord.
I'll keep you company.
[Exeunt.
-- 516 --
SCENE II.
The Same. A Room of State in Timon's House.
Hautboys playing loud Music. A great banquet served
in; Flavius and others attending: then, enter Timon,
Alcibiades, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and
other Athenian Senators, with Ventidius, whom Timon
redeemed from prison, and Attendants: then comes,
dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself.
Ven.
Most honour'd Timon, it hath pleas'd the gods to remember
My father's age, and call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I deriv'd liberty.
Tim.
O! by no means,
Honest Ventidius: you mistake my love.
I gave it freely ever; and there's none
Can truly say, he gives, if he receives:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them: faults that are rich are fair.
Ven.
A noble spirit!
Tim.
Nay, my lords,
Ceremony was but devis'd at first,
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray, sit: more welcome are ye to my fortunes,
Than my fortunes to me.
[They sit.
1 Lord.
My lord, we always have confess'd it.
-- 517 --
Apem.
Ho, ho, confess'd it? hang'd it, have you not?
Tim.
O, Apemantus!—you are welcome.
Apem.
No, you shall not make me welcome:
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Tim.
Fie! thou'rt a churl: you have got a humour there
Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame.—
They say, my lords, ira furor brevis est,
But yond' man is ever angry4 note.
Go, let him have a table by himself;
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for't, indeed.
Apem.
Let me stay at thine apperil5 note, Timon:
I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.
Tim.
I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian,
therefore, welcome. I myself would have no power;
pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent.
Apem.
I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I
should ne'er flatter thee.—O you gods! what a number
of men eat Timon, and he sees them not! It grieves
me, to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood;
and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.
I wonder, men dare trust themselves with men:
Methinks, they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There's much example for't; the fellow, that sits next
him now, parts bread with him, and pledges the breath
of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill
him: it has been proved. If I were a huge man, I
should fear to drink at meals;
-- 518 --
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats6 note.
Tim.
My lord, in heart7 note; and let the health go round.
2 Lord.
Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Apem.
Flow this way? A brave fellow!—he keeps
his tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy
state look ill, Timon.
Here's that, which is too weak to be a sinner,
Honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:
This and my food are equals, there's no odds,
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. 11Q0949
Apemantus' Grace.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man, but myself.
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot for her weeping;
Or a dog that seems a sleeping;
Or a keeper with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't:
Rich men sin, and I eat root.
[Eats and drinks.
Much good dich thy good heart8 note, Apemantus!
Tim.
Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field
now.
-- 519 --
Alcib.
My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
Tim.
You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies,
than a dinner of friends.
Alcib.
So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's
no meat like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such
a feast.
Apem.
'Would all those flatterers were thine enemies
then, that then thou might'st kill 'em, and bid me to
'em9 note.
1 Lord.
Might we but have that happiness, my lord,
that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might
express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves
for ever perfect.
Tim.
O! no doubt, my good friends; but the gods
themselves have provided that I shall have much help
from you: how had you been my friends else? why
have you that charitable title from thousands, did you
not chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of
you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in
your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O, you
gods! think I, what need we have any friends, if we
should ne'er have need of 'em? they were the most
needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for
'em; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung
up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves.
Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might
come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits; and
what better or properer can we call our own, than the
riches of our friends? O! what a precious comfort
'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one
another's fortunes. O joy, e'en made away ere 't can
be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks:
to forget their faults, I drink to you.
Apem.
Thou weep'st to make them drink, Timon.
-- 520 --
2 Lord.
Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
Apem.
Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
3 Lord.
I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me much.
Apem.
Much!
[Tucket sounded.
Tim.
What means that trump?—How now!
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies
most desirous of admittance.
Tim.
Ladies! What are their wills?
Serv.
There comes with them a forerunner, my lord,
which bears that office to signify their pleasures.
Tim.
I pray, let them be admitted.
Enter Cupid.
Cup.
Hail to thee, worthy Timon; and to all
That of his bounties taste!—The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. The ear,
Taste, touch, smell, pleas'd from thy table rise10 note
;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
Tim.
They are welcome all. Let them have kind admittance:
Music, make their welcome.
[Exit Cupid.
1 Lord.
You see, my lord, how ample y'are belov'd.
-- 521 --
Music. Re-enter Cupid, with a masque of Ladies as
Amazons, with Lutes in their Hands, dancing, and playing.
Apem.
Hey day! what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
They dance! they are mad women.
Like madness is the glory of this life,
As this pomp shows to a little oil, and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men,
Upon whose age we void it up again,
With poisonous spite, and envy.
Who lives, that's not depraved, or depraves?
Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friends' gift?
I should fear, those, that dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon;
and, to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon,
and all dance, Men with Women, a lofty Strain or two
to the Hautboys, and cease.
Tim.
You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind:
You have added worth unto't, and lustre1 note,
And entertain'd me with mine own device;
I am to thank you for it.
1 Lady.
My lord2 note, you take us even at the best.
-- 522 --
Apem.
'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not
hold taking, I doubt me.
Tim.
Ladies, there is an idle banquet
Attends you: please you to dispose yourselves.
All Lad.
Most thankfully, my lord.
[Exeunt Cupid, and Ladies.
Tim.
Flavius!
Flav.
My lord.
Tim.
The little casket bring me hither.
Flav.
Yes, my lord. [Aside.] More jewels yet!
There is no crossing him in his humour;
Else I should tell him,—well,—i' faith, I should,
When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could.
'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.
[Exit, and returns with the Casket.
1 Lord.
Where be our men?
Serv.
Here, my lord, in readiness.
2 Lord.
Our horses!
Tim.
O, my friends!
I have one word to say to you. Look you, my good lord,
I must entreat you, honour me so much,
As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,
Kind my lord.
1 Lord.
I am so far already in your gifts,—
All.
So are we all.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate
newly alighted, and come to visit you.
Tim.
They are fairly welcome.
Flav.
I beseech your honour,
Vouchsafe me a word: it does concern you near.
Tim.
Near? why then another time I'll hear thee:
I pr'ythee, let's be provided to show them entertainment.
Flav.
I scarce know how.
[Aside.
-- 523 --
Enter another Servant.
2 Serv.
May it please your honour, lord Lucius,
Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.
Tim.
I shall accept them fairly: let the presents
Enter a third Servant.
Be worthily entertain'd.—How now! what news?
3 Serv.
Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman,
lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow
to hunt with him; and has sent your honour two brace
of greyhounds.
Tim.
I'll hunt with him; and let them be receiv'd,
Not without fair reward.
Flav. [Aside.]
What will this come to?
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer:
Nor will he know his purse; or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good.
His promises fly so beyond his state,
That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
For every word: he is so kind, that he now
Pays interest for't; his land's put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office,
Before I were forc'd out!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such as do even enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.
[Exit.
Tim.
You do yourselves
Much wrong: you bate too much of your own merits.
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
2 Lord.
With more than common thanks I will receive it.
3 Lord.
O! he's the very soul of bounty.
-- 524 --
Tim.
And now I remember, my lord, you gave
Good words the other day of a bay courser
I rode on: it is yours, because you lik'd it.
2 Lord.
O! I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.
Tim.
You may take my word, my lord: I know no man
Can justly praise, but what he does affect:
I weigh my friend's affection with mine own;
I'll tell you true. I'll call to you.
All Lords.
O! none so welcome.
Tim.
I take all, and your several visitations,
So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give:
Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne'er be weary.—Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich:
It comes in charity to thee; for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.
Alcib.
Ay, defil'd land, my lord3 note.
1 Lord.
We are so virtuously bound,—
Tim.
And so
Am I to you.
2 Lord.
So infinitely endear'd,—
Tim.
All to you.—Lights! more lights!
1 Lord.
The best of happiness,
Honour, and fortunes, keep with you, lord Timon.
Tim.
Ready for his friends.
[Exeunt Alcibiades, Lords, &c.
Apem.
What a coil's here!
Serving of becks, and jutting out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs4 note be worth the sums
-- 525 --
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs.
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.
Tim.
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I'd be good to thee.
Apem.
No, I'll nothing; for if I should be brib'd
too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and
then thou would'st sin the faster. Thou giv'st so long,
Timon, I fear me, thou wilt give away thyself in paper
shortly: what need these feasts, pomps, and vain
glories?
Tim.
Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I
am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and
come with better music.
[Exit.
Apem.
So;—thou wilt not hear me now;—
Thou shalt not then; I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
[Exit.
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
