ACT IVSCENE I. Without the walls of AthensEnterTimon.TIMON.Let me look back upon thee. O thou wallThat girdles in those wolves, dive in the earthAnd fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools,Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the benchAnd minister in their steads! To general filthsConvert, o’ th’ instant, green virginity,Do’t in your parents’ eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast;Rather than render back, out with your knivesAnd cut your trusters’ throats! Bound servants, steal!Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,And pill by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed,Thy mistress is o’ th’ brothel. Son of sixteen,Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear,Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood,Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,Degrees, observances, customs and laws,Decline to your confounding contraries,And let confusion live! Plagues incident to men,Your potent and infectious fevers heapOn Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,Cripple our senators, that their limbs may haltAs lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty,Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,That ’gainst the stream of virtue they may striveAnd drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,Sow all th’ Athenian bosoms, and their cropBe general leprosy! Breath infect breath,That their society, as their friendship, mayBe merely poison! Nothing I’ll bear from theeBut nakedness, thou detestable town!Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!Timon will to the woods, where he shall findTh’ unkindest beast more 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 growTo the whole race of mankind, high and low!Amen.[Exit.]SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon’s houseEnterFlaviuswith two or threeServants.FIRST SERVANT.Hear you, Master Steward, where’s our master?Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?FLAVIUS.Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,I am as poor as you.FIRST SERVANT.Such a house broke?So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and notOne friend to take his fortune by the armAnd go along with him?SECOND SERVANT.As we do turn our backsFrom our companion, thrown into his grave,So his familiars to his buried fortunesSlink all away, leave their false vows with him,Like empty purses picked; and his poor self,A dedicated beggar to the air,With his disease of all-shunned poverty,Walks, like contempt, alone.—More of our fellows.Enter otherServants.FLAVIUS.All broken implements of a ruined house.THIRD SERVANT.Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery.That see I by our faces. We are fellows still,Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our bark,And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,Hearing the surges threat. We must all partInto this sea of air.FLAVIUS.Good fellows all,The latest of my wealth I’ll share amongst you.Wherever we shall meet, for Timon’s sakeLet’s yet be fellows. Let’s shake our heads and say,As ’twere a knell unto our master’s fortune,“We have seen better days.” Let each take some.[Offering them money.]Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more.Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.[They embrace and part several ways.]O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,Since riches point to misery and contempt?Who would be so mocked with glory, or to liveBut in a dream of friendship,To have his pomp and all what state compoundsBut only painted, like his varnished friends?Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual bloodWhen 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, blessed to be most accursed,Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunesAre made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord,He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seatOf monstrous friends;Nor has he with him to supply his life,Or that which can command it.I’ll follow and inquire 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. Woods and caves near the sea-shoreEnterTimonin the woods.TIMON.O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earthRotten humidity, below thy sister’s orbInfect the air! Twinned brothers of one womb,Whose procreation, residence and birthScarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes,The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature,To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortuneBut 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 rother’s sides,The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who daresIn purity of manhood stand uprightAnd say, “This man’s a flatterer”? If one be,So are they all, for every grece of fortuneIs smoothed by that below. The learned pateDucks to the golden fool. All’s obliquy.There’s nothing level in our cursed naturesBut direct villainy. Therefore be abhorredAll feasts, societies, and throngs of men!His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots![Digs in the earth.]Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palateWith thy most operant poison! What is here?Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold?No, gods, I am no idle votarist.Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will makeBlack white, foul fair, wrong right,Base noble, old young, coward valiant.Ha, you gods, why this? What this, you gods? Why, thisWill lug your priests and servants from your sides,Pluck stout men’s pillows from below their heads.This yellow slaveWill knit and break religions, bless th’ accursed,Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thievesAnd give them title, knee, and approbationWith senators on the bench. This is itThat makes the wappened widow wed again;She whom the spittle-house and ulcerous soresWould cast the gorge at, this embalms and spicesTo th’ April day again. Come, damned earth,Thou common whore of mankind, that puts oddsAmong the rout of nations, I will make theeDo 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.]EnterAlcibiadeswith drum and fife, in warlike manner, andPhryniaandTimandra.ALCIBIADES.What art thou there? Speak.TIMON.A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heartFor showing me again the eyes of man!ALCIBIADES.What is thy name? Is man so hateful to theeThat art thyself a man?TIMON.I am Misanthropos and hate mankind.For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,That I might love thee something.ALCIBIADES.I know thee well,But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.TIMON.I know thee too, and more than that I know theeI not desire to know. Follow thy drum,With man’s blood paint the ground gules, gules.Religious canons, civil laws are cruel,Then what should war be? This fell whore of thineHath in her more destruction than thy sword,For all her cherubin look.PHRYNIA.Thy lips rot off!TIMON.I will not kiss thee, then the rot returnsTo thine own lips again.ALCIBIADES.How came the noble Timon to this change?TIMON.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.ALCIBIADES.Noble Timon,What friendship may I do thee?TIMON.None, but to maintain my opinion.ALCIBIADES.What is it, Timon?TIMON.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.ALCIBIADES.I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.TIMON.Thou saw’st them when I had prosperity.ALCIBIADES.I see them now; then was a blessed time.TIMON.As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.TIMANDRA.Is this th’ Athenian minion whom the worldVoiced so regardfully?TIMON.Art thou Timandra?TIMANDRA.Yes.TIMON.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 slavesFor tubs and baths, bring down rose-cheeked youthTo the tub-fast and the diet.TIMANDRA.Hang thee, monster!ALCIBIADES.Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his witsAre drowned and lost in his calamities.I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,The want whereof doth daily make revoltIn my penurious band. I have heard and grievedHow cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,Forgetting thy great deeds when neighbour states,But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them—TIMON.I prithee, beat thy drum and get thee gone.ALCIBIADES.I am thy friend and pity thee, dear Timon.TIMON.How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?I had rather be alone.ALCIBIADES.Why, fare thee well.Here is some gold for thee.TIMON.Keep it, I cannot eat it.ALCIBIADES.When I have laid proud Athens on a heap—TIMON.Warr’st thou ’gainst Athens?ALCIBIADES.Ay, Timon, and have cause.TIMON.The gods confound them all in thy conquest,And thee after, when thou hast conquered!ALCIBIADES.Why me, Timon?TIMON.That by killing of villainsThou wast born to conquer my country.Put up thy gold. Go on, here’s gold, go on.Be as a planetary plague when JoveWill o’er some high-viced city hang his poisonIn the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one.Pity not honoured age for his white beard;He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron;It is her habit only that is honest,Herself’s a bawd. Let not the virgin’s cheekMake soft thy trenchant sword, for those milk papsThat through the window-bars bore at men’s eyes,Are not within the leaf of pity writ,But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe,Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;Think it a bastard whom the oracleHath doubtfully pronounced 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 priests 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.ALCIBIADES.Hast thou gold yet? I’ll take the gold thou giv’st me,Not all thy counsel.TIMON.Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven’s curse upon thee!PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.Give us some gold, good Timon.Hast thou more?TIMON.Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,Your aprons mountant. You are not oathable,Although I know you’ll swear—terribly swearInto strong shudders and to heavenly aguesTh’ 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 smoke,And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months,Be quite contrary. And thatch your poor thin roofsWith burdens of the dead—some that were hanged,No matter; wear them, betray with them. Whore still,Paint till a horse may mire upon your face.A pox of wrinkles!PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.Well, more gold. What then?Believe’t that we’ll do anything for gold.TIMON.Consumptions sowIn hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,And mar men’s spurring. Crack the lawyer’s voice,That he may never more false title pleadNor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen,That scolds against the quality of fleshAnd not believes himself. Down with the nose,Down with it flat, take the bridge quite awayOf him that, his particular to foresee,Smells from the general weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald,And let the unscarred braggarts of the warDerive some pain from you. Plague all,That your activity may defeat and quellThe source of all erection. There’s more gold.Do you damn others, and let this damn you,And ditches grave you all!PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.TIMON.More whore, more mischief first! I have given you earnest.ALCIBIADES.Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon.If I thrive well, I’ll visit thee again.TIMON.If I hope well, I’ll never see thee more.ALCIBIADES.I never did thee harm.TIMON.Yes, thou spok’st well of me.ALCIBIADES.Call’st thou that harm?TIMON.Men daily find it. Get thee away, and takeThy beagles with thee.ALCIBIADES.We but offend him. Strike.[Drum beats. Exeunt all butTimon.]TIMON.That nature, being sick of man’s unkindness,Should yet be hungry! [He digs.] Common mother, thou,Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breastTeems and feeds all; whose selfsame mettleWhereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,Engenders the black toad and adder blue,The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm,With all the abhorred births below crisp heavenWhereon Hyperion’s quickening fire doth shine:Yield him who all thy human sons doth hate,From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,Let it no more bring out ingrateful man.Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward faceHath to the marbled mansion all aboveNever presented. O, a root, dear thanks!Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas,Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughtsAnd morsels unctuous greases his pure mind,That from it all consideration slips—EnterApemantus.More man? Plague, plague!APEMANTUS.I was directed hither. Men reportThou dost affect my manners and dost use them.TIMON.’Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dogWhom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!APEMANTUS.This is in thee a nature but infected,A poor unmanly melancholy sprungFrom change of fortune. Why this spade, this place?This slave-like habit and these looks of care?Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgotThat ever Timon was. Shame not these woodsBy putting on the cunning of a carper.Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thriveBy that which has undone thee. Hinge thy kneeAnd let his very breath whom thou’lt observeBlow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus;Thou gav’st thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome,To knaves and all approachers. ’Tis most justThat thou turn rascal; had’st thou wealth again,Rascals should have’t. Do not assume my likeness.TIMON.Were I like thee, I’d throw away myself.APEMANTUS.Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyselfA madman so long, now a fool. What, think’stThat the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these mossed trees,That have outlived the eagle, page thy heelsAnd skip when thou point’st out? Will the cold brook,Candied with ice, caudle thy morning tasteTo cure thy o’ernight’s surfeit? Call the creaturesWhose naked natures live in all the spiteOf wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,To the conflicting elements exposed,Answer mere nature, bid them flatter thee.O, thou shalt find—TIMON.A fool of thee. Depart.APEMANTUS.I love thee better now than e’er I did.TIMON.I hate thee worse.APEMANTUS.Why?TIMON.Thou flatter’st misery.APEMANTUS.I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.TIMON.Why dost thou seek me out?APEMANTUS.To vex thee.TIMON.Always a villain’s office or a fool’s.Dost please thyself in’t?APEMANTUS.Ay.TIMON.What, a knave too?APEMANTUS.If thou didst put this sour cold habit onTo castigate thy pride, ’twere well; but thouDost it enforcedly. Thou’dst courtier be againWert thou not beggar. Willing miseryOutlives incertain pomp, is crowned before;The one is filling still, never complete,The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless,Hath a distracted and most wretched being,Worse than the worst, content.Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.TIMON.Not by his breath that is more miserable.Thou art a slave whom Fortune’s tender armWith favour never clasped, but bred a dog.Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceededThe sweet degrees that this brief world affordsTo such as may the passive drugs of itFreely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyselfIn general riot, melted down thy youthIn different beds of lust and never learnedThe icy precepts of respect, but followedThe sugared game before thee. But myself—Who had the world as my confectionary,The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of menAt duty, more than I could frame employment,That numberless upon me stuck as leavesDo on the oak, have with one winter’s brushFell from their boughs and left me open, bareFor every storm that blows—I to bear this,That never knew but better, is some burden.Thy nature did commence in sufferance, timeHath made thee hard in’t. Why shouldst thou hate men?They never flattered thee. What hast thou given?If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuffTo some she-beggar and compounded theePoor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.APEMANTUS.Art thou proud yet?TIMON.Ay, that I am not thee.APEMANTUS.I, that I was no prodigal.TIMON.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.[Eats a root.]APEMANTUS.Here, I will mend thy feast.TIMON.First mend my company, take away thyself.APEMANTUS.So I shall mend mine own, by th’ lack of thine.TIMON.’Tis not well mended so, it is but botched.If not, I would it were.APEMANTUS.What wouldst thou have to Athens?TIMON.Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,Tell them there I have gold. Look, so I have.APEMANTUS.Here is no use for gold.TIMON.The best and truest,For here it sleeps and does no hired harm.APEMANTUS.Where liest a-nights, Timon?TIMON.Under that’s above me. Where feed’st thou a-days, Apemantus?APEMANTUS.Where my stomach finds meat, or rather where I eat it.TIMON.Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!APEMANTUS.Where wouldst thou send it?TIMON.To sauce thy dishes.APEMANTUS.The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou know’st none, but art despised for the contrary. There’s a medlar for thee. Eat it.TIMON.On what I hate I feed not.APEMANTUS.Dost hate a medlar?TIMON.Ay, though it look like thee.APEMANTUS.An thou’dst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?TIMON.Who, without those means thou talk’st of, didst thou ever know beloved?APEMANTUS.Myself.TIMON.I understand thee. Thou hadst some means to keep a dog.APEMANTUS.What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?TIMON.Women nearest; but men—men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?APEMANTUS.Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.TIMON.Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men and remain a beast with the beasts?APEMANTUS.Ay, Timon.TIMON.A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t’ attain to. If thou wert the 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 accused by the ass; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee, and still thou lived’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 killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert germane 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 beast art thou already that seest not thy loss in transformation!APEMANTUS.If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.TIMON.How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?APEMANTUS.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.TIMON.When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar’s dog than Apemantus.APEMANTUS.Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.TIMON.Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!APEMANTUS.A plague on thee! Thou art too bad to curse.TIMON.All villains that do stand by thee are pure.APEMANTUS.There is no leprosy but what thou speak’st.TIMON.If I name thee,I’ll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.APEMANTUS.I would my tongue could rot them off!TIMON.Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!Choler does kill me that thou art alive.I swoon to see thee.APEMANTUS.Would thou wouldst burst!TIMON.Away, thou tedious rogue!I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.[Throws a stone at him.]APEMANTUS.Beast!TIMON.Slave!APEMANTUS.Toad!TIMON.Rogue, rogue, rogue!I am sick of this false world, and will love noughtBut even the mere necessities upon’t.Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave.Lie where the light foam of the sea may beatThy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph,That death in me at others’ lives may laugh.[To the gold.] O thou sweet king-killer and dear divorce’Twixt natural son and sire; thou bright defilerOf Hymen’s purest bed, thou valiant Mars;Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer,Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snowThat lies on Dian’s lap; thou visible god,That solder’st close impossibilitiesAnd mak’st them kiss, that speak’st with every tongueTo every purpose! O thou touch of hearts,Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtueSet them into confounding odds, that beastsMay have the world in empire!APEMANTUS.Would ’twere so!But not till I am dead. I’ll say thou’st gold;Thou wilt be thronged to shortly.TIMON.Thronged to?APEMANTUS.Ay.TIMON.Thy back, I prithee.APEMANTUS.Live and love thy misery.TIMON.Long live so, and so die! I am quit.APEMANTUS.More things like men. Eat, Timon, and abhor them.[ExitApemantus.]EnterBanditti.FIRST BANDIT.Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this melancholy.SECOND BANDIT.It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.THIRD BANDIT.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?SECOND BANDIT.True, for he bears it not about him. ’Tis hid.FIRST BANDIT.Is not this he?BANDITTI.Where?SECOND BANDIT.’Tis his description.THIRD BANDIT.He; I know him.BANDITTI.Save thee, Timon!TIMON.Now, thieves?BANDITTI.Soldiers, not thieves.TIMON.Both too, and women’s sons.BANDITTI.We are not thieves, but men that much do want.TIMON.Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots,Within this mile break forth a hundred springs,The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips,The bounteous housewife Nature on each bushLays her full mess before you. Want? Why want?FIRST BANDIT.We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,As beasts and birds and fishes.TIMON.Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you conThat you are thieves professed, that you work notIn holier shapes, for there is boundless theftIn limited professions. Rascal thieves,Here’s gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o’ th’ grapeTill the high fever seethe your blood to froth,And so scape hanging. Trust not the physician;His antidotes are poison, and he slaysMore than you rob. Take wealth and lives together,Do villainy, do, since you protest to do’t,Like workmen. I’ll example you with thievery.The sun’s a thief and with his great attractionRobs the vast sea; the moon’s an arrant thief,And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;The sea’s a thief, whose liquid surge resolvesThe moon into salt tears; the earth’s a thief,That feeds and breeds by a composture stol’nFrom general excrement. Each thing’s a thief.The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough powerHas unchecked theft. Love not yourselves; away!Rob one another. There’s more gold. Cut throats,All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go,Break open shops, nothing can you stealBut thieves do lose it. Steal no less for this I give you,And gold confound you howsoe’er! Amen.THIRD BANDIT.Has almost charmed me from my profession by persuading me to it.FIRST BANDIT.’Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery.SECOND BANDIT.I’ll believe him as an enemy and give over my trade.FIRST BANDIT.Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so miserable but a man may be true.[ExeuntBanditti.]EnterFlavius.FLAVIUS.O you gods!Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord?Full of decay and failing? O monumentAnd wonder of good deeds evilly bestowed!What an alteration of honour has desperate want made!What viler thing upon the earth than friendsWho can bring noblest minds to basest ends!How rarely does it meet with this time’s guise,When man was wished to love his enemies!Grant I may ever love, and rather wooThose that would mischief me than those that do!He has caught me in his eye. I will presentMy honest grief unto him and as my lordStill serve him with my life.—My dearest master!TIMON.Away! What art thou?FLAVIUS.Have you forgot me, sir?TIMON.Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men.Then, if thou grant’st thou’rt a man, I have forgot thee.FLAVIUS.An honest poor servant of yours.TIMON.Then I know thee not.I never had honest man about me. I; allI kept were knaves to serve in meat to villains.FLAVIUS.The gods are witness,Ne’er did poor steward wear a truer griefFor his undone lord than mine eyes for you.TIMON.What, dost thou weep? Come nearer then. I love theeBecause thou art a woman and disclaim’stFlinty mankind, whose eyes do never giveBut thorough lust and laughter. Pity’s sleeping.Strange times that weep with laughing, not with weeping!FLAVIUS.I beg of you to know me, good my lord,T’ accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lastsTo entertain me as your steward still.TIMON.Had I a stewardSo true, so just, and now so comfortable?It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.Let me behold thy face. Surely this manWas born of woman.Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,You perpetual sober gods! I do proclaimOne honest man, mistake me not, but one;No more, I pray, and he’s a steward.How fain would I have hated all mankind,And thou redeem’st thyself. But all, save thee,I fell with curses.Methinks thou art more honest now than wise,For by oppressing and betraying meThou mightst have sooner got another service;For many so arrive at second mastersUpon their first lord’s neck. But tell me true—For I must ever doubt, though ne’er so sure—Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,A usuring kindness and as rich men deal gifts,Expecting in return twenty for one?FLAVIUS.No, my most worthy master, in whose breastDoubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late.You should have feared false times when you did feast,Suspect still comes where an estate is least.That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,Care of your food and living. And believe it,My most honoured lord,For any benefit that points to me,Either in hope or present, I’d exchangeFor this one wish, that you had power and wealthTo requite me by making rich yourself.TIMON.Look thee, ’tis so! Thou singly honest man,Here, take. The gods out of my miseryHave sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,But thus conditioned: thou shalt build from men;Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,But let the famished flesh slide from the boneEre thou relieve the beggar; give to dogsWhat thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow ’em,Debts wither ’em to nothing; be men like blasted woods,And may diseases lick up their false bloods!And so farewell and thrive.FLAVIUS.O, let me stayAnd comfort you, my master.TIMON.If thou hat’st curses,Stay not. Fly whilst thou’rt blest and free.Ne’er see thou man, and let me ne’er see thee.[Exeunt severally.]
EnterTimon.
TIMON.Let me look back upon thee. O thou wallThat girdles in those wolves, dive in the earthAnd fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools,Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the benchAnd minister in their steads! To general filthsConvert, o’ th’ instant, green virginity,Do’t in your parents’ eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast;Rather than render back, out with your knivesAnd cut your trusters’ throats! Bound servants, steal!Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,And pill by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed,Thy mistress is o’ th’ brothel. Son of sixteen,Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear,Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood,Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,Degrees, observances, customs and laws,Decline to your confounding contraries,And let confusion live! Plagues incident to men,Your potent and infectious fevers heapOn Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,Cripple our senators, that their limbs may haltAs lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty,Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,That ’gainst the stream of virtue they may striveAnd drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,Sow all th’ Athenian bosoms, and their cropBe general leprosy! Breath infect breath,That their society, as their friendship, mayBe merely poison! Nothing I’ll bear from theeBut nakedness, thou detestable town!Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!Timon will to the woods, where he shall findTh’ unkindest beast more 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 growTo the whole race of mankind, high and low!Amen.
[Exit.]
EnterFlaviuswith two or threeServants.
FIRST SERVANT.Hear you, Master Steward, where’s our master?Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?
FLAVIUS.Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,I am as poor as you.
FIRST SERVANT.Such a house broke?So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and notOne friend to take his fortune by the armAnd go along with him?
SECOND SERVANT.As we do turn our backsFrom our companion, thrown into his grave,So his familiars to his buried fortunesSlink all away, leave their false vows with him,Like empty purses picked; and his poor self,A dedicated beggar to the air,With his disease of all-shunned poverty,Walks, like contempt, alone.—More of our fellows.
Enter otherServants.
FLAVIUS.All broken implements of a ruined house.
THIRD SERVANT.Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery.That see I by our faces. We are fellows still,Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our bark,And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,Hearing the surges threat. We must all partInto this sea of air.
FLAVIUS.Good fellows all,The latest of my wealth I’ll share amongst you.Wherever we shall meet, for Timon’s sakeLet’s yet be fellows. Let’s shake our heads and say,As ’twere a knell unto our master’s fortune,“We have seen better days.” Let each take some.
[Offering them money.]
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more.Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
[They embrace and part several ways.]
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,Since riches point to misery and contempt?Who would be so mocked with glory, or to liveBut in a dream of friendship,To have his pomp and all what state compoundsBut only painted, like his varnished friends?Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual bloodWhen 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, blessed to be most accursed,Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunesAre made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord,He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seatOf monstrous friends;Nor has he with him to supply his life,Or that which can command it.I’ll follow and inquire him out.I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will.Whilst I have gold, I’ll be his steward still.
[Exit.]
EnterTimonin the woods.
TIMON.O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earthRotten humidity, below thy sister’s orbInfect the air! Twinned brothers of one womb,Whose procreation, residence and birthScarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes,The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature,To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortuneBut 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 rother’s sides,The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who daresIn purity of manhood stand uprightAnd say, “This man’s a flatterer”? If one be,So are they all, for every grece of fortuneIs smoothed by that below. The learned pateDucks to the golden fool. All’s obliquy.There’s nothing level in our cursed naturesBut direct villainy. Therefore be abhorredAll feasts, societies, and throngs of men!His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
[Digs in the earth.]
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palateWith thy most operant poison! What is here?Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold?No, gods, I am no idle votarist.Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will makeBlack white, foul fair, wrong right,Base noble, old young, coward valiant.Ha, you gods, why this? What this, you gods? Why, thisWill lug your priests and servants from your sides,Pluck stout men’s pillows from below their heads.This yellow slaveWill knit and break religions, bless th’ accursed,Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thievesAnd give them title, knee, and approbationWith senators on the bench. This is itThat makes the wappened widow wed again;She whom the spittle-house and ulcerous soresWould cast the gorge at, this embalms and spicesTo th’ April day again. Come, damned earth,Thou common whore of mankind, that puts oddsAmong the rout of nations, I will make theeDo 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.]
EnterAlcibiadeswith drum and fife, in warlike manner, andPhryniaandTimandra.
ALCIBIADES.What art thou there? Speak.
TIMON.A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heartFor showing me again the eyes of man!
ALCIBIADES.What is thy name? Is man so hateful to theeThat art thyself a man?
TIMON.I am Misanthropos and hate mankind.For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,That I might love thee something.
ALCIBIADES.I know thee well,But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.
TIMON.I know thee too, and more than that I know theeI not desire to know. Follow thy drum,With man’s blood paint the ground gules, gules.Religious canons, civil laws are cruel,Then what should war be? This fell whore of thineHath in her more destruction than thy sword,For all her cherubin look.
PHRYNIA.Thy lips rot off!
TIMON.I will not kiss thee, then the rot returnsTo thine own lips again.
ALCIBIADES.How came the noble Timon to this change?
TIMON.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.
ALCIBIADES.Noble Timon,What friendship may I do thee?
TIMON.None, but to maintain my opinion.
ALCIBIADES.What is it, Timon?
TIMON.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.
ALCIBIADES.I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
TIMON.Thou saw’st them when I had prosperity.
ALCIBIADES.I see them now; then was a blessed time.
TIMON.As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
TIMANDRA.Is this th’ Athenian minion whom the worldVoiced so regardfully?
TIMON.Art thou Timandra?
TIMANDRA.Yes.
TIMON.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 slavesFor tubs and baths, bring down rose-cheeked youthTo the tub-fast and the diet.
TIMANDRA.Hang thee, monster!
ALCIBIADES.Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his witsAre drowned and lost in his calamities.I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,The want whereof doth daily make revoltIn my penurious band. I have heard and grievedHow cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,Forgetting thy great deeds when neighbour states,But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them—
TIMON.I prithee, beat thy drum and get thee gone.
ALCIBIADES.I am thy friend and pity thee, dear Timon.
TIMON.How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?I had rather be alone.
ALCIBIADES.Why, fare thee well.Here is some gold for thee.
TIMON.Keep it, I cannot eat it.
ALCIBIADES.When I have laid proud Athens on a heap—
TIMON.Warr’st thou ’gainst Athens?
ALCIBIADES.Ay, Timon, and have cause.
TIMON.The gods confound them all in thy conquest,And thee after, when thou hast conquered!
ALCIBIADES.Why me, Timon?
TIMON.That by killing of villainsThou wast born to conquer my country.Put up thy gold. Go on, here’s gold, go on.Be as a planetary plague when JoveWill o’er some high-viced city hang his poisonIn the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one.Pity not honoured age for his white beard;He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron;It is her habit only that is honest,Herself’s a bawd. Let not the virgin’s cheekMake soft thy trenchant sword, for those milk papsThat through the window-bars bore at men’s eyes,Are not within the leaf of pity writ,But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe,Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;Think it a bastard whom the oracleHath doubtfully pronounced 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 priests 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.
ALCIBIADES.Hast thou gold yet? I’ll take the gold thou giv’st me,Not all thy counsel.
TIMON.Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven’s curse upon thee!
PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.Give us some gold, good Timon.Hast thou more?
TIMON.Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,Your aprons mountant. You are not oathable,Although I know you’ll swear—terribly swearInto strong shudders and to heavenly aguesTh’ 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 smoke,And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months,Be quite contrary. And thatch your poor thin roofsWith burdens of the dead—some that were hanged,No matter; wear them, betray with them. Whore still,Paint till a horse may mire upon your face.A pox of wrinkles!
PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.Well, more gold. What then?Believe’t that we’ll do anything for gold.
TIMON.Consumptions sowIn hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,And mar men’s spurring. Crack the lawyer’s voice,That he may never more false title pleadNor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen,That scolds against the quality of fleshAnd not believes himself. Down with the nose,Down with it flat, take the bridge quite awayOf him that, his particular to foresee,Smells from the general weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald,And let the unscarred braggarts of the warDerive some pain from you. Plague all,That your activity may defeat and quellThe source of all erection. There’s more gold.Do you damn others, and let this damn you,And ditches grave you all!
PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA.More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.
TIMON.More whore, more mischief first! I have given you earnest.
ALCIBIADES.Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon.If I thrive well, I’ll visit thee again.
TIMON.If I hope well, I’ll never see thee more.
ALCIBIADES.I never did thee harm.
TIMON.Yes, thou spok’st well of me.
ALCIBIADES.Call’st thou that harm?
TIMON.Men daily find it. Get thee away, and takeThy beagles with thee.
ALCIBIADES.We but offend him. Strike.
[Drum beats. Exeunt all butTimon.]
TIMON.That nature, being sick of man’s unkindness,Should yet be hungry! [He digs.] Common mother, thou,Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breastTeems and feeds all; whose selfsame mettleWhereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,Engenders the black toad and adder blue,The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm,With all the abhorred births below crisp heavenWhereon Hyperion’s quickening fire doth shine:Yield him who all thy human sons doth hate,From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,Let it no more bring out ingrateful man.Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward faceHath to the marbled mansion all aboveNever presented. O, a root, dear thanks!Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas,Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughtsAnd morsels unctuous greases his pure mind,That from it all consideration slips—
EnterApemantus.
More man? Plague, plague!
APEMANTUS.I was directed hither. Men reportThou dost affect my manners and dost use them.
TIMON.’Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dogWhom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!
APEMANTUS.This is in thee a nature but infected,A poor unmanly melancholy sprungFrom change of fortune. Why this spade, this place?This slave-like habit and these looks of care?Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgotThat ever Timon was. Shame not these woodsBy putting on the cunning of a carper.Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thriveBy that which has undone thee. Hinge thy kneeAnd let his very breath whom thou’lt observeBlow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus;Thou gav’st thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome,To knaves and all approachers. ’Tis most justThat thou turn rascal; had’st thou wealth again,Rascals should have’t. Do not assume my likeness.
TIMON.Were I like thee, I’d throw away myself.
APEMANTUS.Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyselfA madman so long, now a fool. What, think’stThat the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these mossed trees,That have outlived the eagle, page thy heelsAnd skip when thou point’st out? Will the cold brook,Candied with ice, caudle thy morning tasteTo cure thy o’ernight’s surfeit? Call the creaturesWhose naked natures live in all the spiteOf wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,To the conflicting elements exposed,Answer mere nature, bid them flatter thee.O, thou shalt find—
TIMON.A fool of thee. Depart.
APEMANTUS.I love thee better now than e’er I did.
TIMON.I hate thee worse.
APEMANTUS.Why?
TIMON.Thou flatter’st misery.
APEMANTUS.I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.
TIMON.Why dost thou seek me out?
APEMANTUS.To vex thee.
TIMON.Always a villain’s office or a fool’s.Dost please thyself in’t?
APEMANTUS.Ay.
TIMON.What, a knave too?
APEMANTUS.If thou didst put this sour cold habit onTo castigate thy pride, ’twere well; but thouDost it enforcedly. Thou’dst courtier be againWert thou not beggar. Willing miseryOutlives incertain pomp, is crowned before;The one is filling still, never complete,The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless,Hath a distracted and most wretched being,Worse than the worst, content.Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.
TIMON.Not by his breath that is more miserable.Thou art a slave whom Fortune’s tender armWith favour never clasped, but bred a dog.Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceededThe sweet degrees that this brief world affordsTo such as may the passive drugs of itFreely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyselfIn general riot, melted down thy youthIn different beds of lust and never learnedThe icy precepts of respect, but followedThe sugared game before thee. But myself—Who had the world as my confectionary,The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of menAt duty, more than I could frame employment,That numberless upon me stuck as leavesDo on the oak, have with one winter’s brushFell from their boughs and left me open, bareFor every storm that blows—I to bear this,That never knew but better, is some burden.Thy nature did commence in sufferance, timeHath made thee hard in’t. Why shouldst thou hate men?They never flattered thee. What hast thou given?If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuffTo some she-beggar and compounded theePoor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.
APEMANTUS.Art thou proud yet?
TIMON.Ay, that I am not thee.
APEMANTUS.I, that I was no prodigal.
TIMON.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.
[Eats a root.]
APEMANTUS.Here, I will mend thy feast.
TIMON.First mend my company, take away thyself.
APEMANTUS.So I shall mend mine own, by th’ lack of thine.
TIMON.’Tis not well mended so, it is but botched.If not, I would it were.
APEMANTUS.What wouldst thou have to Athens?
TIMON.Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,Tell them there I have gold. Look, so I have.
APEMANTUS.Here is no use for gold.
TIMON.The best and truest,For here it sleeps and does no hired harm.
APEMANTUS.Where liest a-nights, Timon?
TIMON.Under that’s above me. Where feed’st thou a-days, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.Where my stomach finds meat, or rather where I eat it.
TIMON.Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!
APEMANTUS.Where wouldst thou send it?
TIMON.To sauce thy dishes.
APEMANTUS.The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou know’st none, but art despised for the contrary. There’s a medlar for thee. Eat it.
TIMON.On what I hate I feed not.
APEMANTUS.Dost hate a medlar?
TIMON.Ay, though it look like thee.
APEMANTUS.An thou’dst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?
TIMON.Who, without those means thou talk’st of, didst thou ever know beloved?
APEMANTUS.Myself.
TIMON.I understand thee. Thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
APEMANTUS.What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?
TIMON.Women nearest; but men—men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?
APEMANTUS.Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.
TIMON.Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men and remain a beast with the beasts?
APEMANTUS.Ay, Timon.
TIMON.A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t’ attain to. If thou wert the 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 accused by the ass; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee, and still thou lived’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 killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert germane 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 beast art thou already that seest not thy loss in transformation!
APEMANTUS.If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.
TIMON.How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?
APEMANTUS.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.
TIMON.When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar’s dog than Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
TIMON.Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
APEMANTUS.A plague on thee! Thou art too bad to curse.
TIMON.All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
APEMANTUS.There is no leprosy but what thou speak’st.
TIMON.If I name thee,I’ll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
APEMANTUS.I would my tongue could rot them off!
TIMON.Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!Choler does kill me that thou art alive.I swoon to see thee.
APEMANTUS.Would thou wouldst burst!
TIMON.Away, thou tedious rogue!I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.
[Throws a stone at him.]
APEMANTUS.Beast!
TIMON.Slave!
APEMANTUS.Toad!
TIMON.Rogue, rogue, rogue!I am sick of this false world, and will love noughtBut even the mere necessities upon’t.Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave.Lie where the light foam of the sea may beatThy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph,That death in me at others’ lives may laugh.[To the gold.] O thou sweet king-killer and dear divorce’Twixt natural son and sire; thou bright defilerOf Hymen’s purest bed, thou valiant Mars;Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer,Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snowThat lies on Dian’s lap; thou visible god,That solder’st close impossibilitiesAnd mak’st them kiss, that speak’st with every tongueTo every purpose! O thou touch of hearts,Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtueSet them into confounding odds, that beastsMay have the world in empire!
APEMANTUS.Would ’twere so!But not till I am dead. I’ll say thou’st gold;Thou wilt be thronged to shortly.
TIMON.Thronged to?
APEMANTUS.Ay.
TIMON.Thy back, I prithee.
APEMANTUS.Live and love thy misery.
TIMON.Long live so, and so die! I am quit.
APEMANTUS.More things like men. Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
[ExitApemantus.]
EnterBanditti.
FIRST BANDIT.Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this melancholy.
SECOND BANDIT.It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.
THIRD BANDIT.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?
SECOND BANDIT.True, for he bears it not about him. ’Tis hid.
FIRST BANDIT.Is not this he?
BANDITTI.Where?
SECOND BANDIT.’Tis his description.
THIRD BANDIT.He; I know him.
BANDITTI.Save thee, Timon!
TIMON.Now, thieves?
BANDITTI.Soldiers, not thieves.
TIMON.Both too, and women’s sons.
BANDITTI.We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
TIMON.Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots,Within this mile break forth a hundred springs,The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips,The bounteous housewife Nature on each bushLays her full mess before you. Want? Why want?
FIRST BANDIT.We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,As beasts and birds and fishes.
TIMON.Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you conThat you are thieves professed, that you work notIn holier shapes, for there is boundless theftIn limited professions. Rascal thieves,Here’s gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o’ th’ grapeTill the high fever seethe your blood to froth,And so scape hanging. Trust not the physician;His antidotes are poison, and he slaysMore than you rob. Take wealth and lives together,Do villainy, do, since you protest to do’t,Like workmen. I’ll example you with thievery.The sun’s a thief and with his great attractionRobs the vast sea; the moon’s an arrant thief,And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;The sea’s a thief, whose liquid surge resolvesThe moon into salt tears; the earth’s a thief,That feeds and breeds by a composture stol’nFrom general excrement. Each thing’s a thief.The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough powerHas unchecked theft. Love not yourselves; away!Rob one another. There’s more gold. Cut throats,All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go,Break open shops, nothing can you stealBut thieves do lose it. Steal no less for this I give you,And gold confound you howsoe’er! Amen.
THIRD BANDIT.Has almost charmed me from my profession by persuading me to it.
FIRST BANDIT.’Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery.
SECOND BANDIT.I’ll believe him as an enemy and give over my trade.
FIRST BANDIT.Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so miserable but a man may be true.
[ExeuntBanditti.]
EnterFlavius.
FLAVIUS.O you gods!Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord?Full of decay and failing? O monumentAnd wonder of good deeds evilly bestowed!What an alteration of honour has desperate want made!What viler thing upon the earth than friendsWho can bring noblest minds to basest ends!How rarely does it meet with this time’s guise,When man was wished to love his enemies!Grant I may ever love, and rather wooThose that would mischief me than those that do!He has caught me in his eye. I will presentMy honest grief unto him and as my lordStill serve him with my life.—My dearest master!
TIMON.Away! What art thou?
FLAVIUS.Have you forgot me, sir?
TIMON.Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men.Then, if thou grant’st thou’rt a man, I have forgot thee.
FLAVIUS.An honest poor servant of yours.
TIMON.Then I know thee not.I never had honest man about me. I; allI kept were knaves to serve in meat to villains.
FLAVIUS.The gods are witness,Ne’er did poor steward wear a truer griefFor his undone lord than mine eyes for you.
TIMON.What, dost thou weep? Come nearer then. I love theeBecause thou art a woman and disclaim’stFlinty mankind, whose eyes do never giveBut thorough lust and laughter. Pity’s sleeping.Strange times that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
FLAVIUS.I beg of you to know me, good my lord,T’ accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lastsTo entertain me as your steward still.
TIMON.Had I a stewardSo true, so just, and now so comfortable?It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.Let me behold thy face. Surely this manWas born of woman.Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,You perpetual sober gods! I do proclaimOne honest man, mistake me not, but one;No more, I pray, and he’s a steward.How fain would I have hated all mankind,And thou redeem’st thyself. But all, save thee,I fell with curses.Methinks thou art more honest now than wise,For by oppressing and betraying meThou mightst have sooner got another service;For many so arrive at second mastersUpon their first lord’s neck. But tell me true—For I must ever doubt, though ne’er so sure—Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,A usuring kindness and as rich men deal gifts,Expecting in return twenty for one?
FLAVIUS.No, my most worthy master, in whose breastDoubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late.You should have feared false times when you did feast,Suspect still comes where an estate is least.That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,Care of your food and living. And believe it,My most honoured lord,For any benefit that points to me,Either in hope or present, I’d exchangeFor this one wish, that you had power and wealthTo requite me by making rich yourself.
TIMON.Look thee, ’tis so! Thou singly honest man,Here, take. The gods out of my miseryHave sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,But thus conditioned: thou shalt build from men;Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,But let the famished flesh slide from the boneEre thou relieve the beggar; give to dogsWhat thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow ’em,Debts wither ’em to nothing; be men like blasted woods,And may diseases lick up their false bloods!And so farewell and thrive.
FLAVIUS.O, let me stayAnd comfort you, my master.
TIMON.If thou hat’st curses,Stay not. Fly whilst thou’rt blest and free.Ne’er see thou man, and let me ne’er see thee.
[Exeunt severally.]