Timon of Athens

1Good day, sir.

2I am glad you're well.

3I have not seen you long: how goes the world?

4It wears, sir, as it grows.

5Ay, that's well known:

6But what particular rarity? what strange,

7Which manifold record not matches? See,

8Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power

9Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.

10I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

11O, 'tis a worthy lord.

12Nay, that's most fix'd.

13A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,

14To an untirable and continuate goodness:

15He passes.

16Jeweller: I have a jewel here--

17O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?

18Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--

19[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have

20praised the vile,

21It stains the glory in that happy verse

22Which aptly sings the good.'

23'Tis a good form.

24And rich: here is a water, look ye.

25You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication

26To the great lord.

27A thing slipp'd idly from me.

28Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes

29From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint

30Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame

31Provokes itself and like the current flies

32Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

33A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

34Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

35Let's see your piece.

36'Tis a good piece.

37So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

38Indifferent.

39Admirable: how this grace

40Speaks his own standing! what a mental power

41This eye shoots forth! how big imagination

42Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture

43One might interpret.

44It is a pretty mocking of the life.

45Here is a touch; is't good?

46I will say of it,

47It tutors nature: artificial strife

48Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

49How this lord is follow'd!

50The senators of Athens: happy man!

51Look, more!

52You see this confluence, this great flood

53of visitors.

54I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,

55Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug

56With amplest entertainment: my free drift

57Halts not particularly, but moves itself

58In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice

59Infects one comma in the course I hold;

60But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,

61Leaving no tract behind.

62How shall I understand you?

63I will unbolt to you.

64You see how all conditions, how all minds,

65As well of glib and slippery creatures as

66Of grave and austere quality, tender down

67Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune

68Upon his good and gracious nature hanging

69Subdues and properties to his love and tendance

70All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer

71To Apemantus, that few things loves better

72Than to abhor himself: even he drops down

73The knee before him, and returns in peace

74Most rich in Timon's nod.

75I saw them speak together.

76Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill

77Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount

78Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,

79That labour on the bosom of this sphere

80To propagate their states: amongst them all,

81Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,

82One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,

83Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;

84Whose present grace to present slaves and servants

85Translates his rivals.

86'Tis conceived to scope.

87This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,

88With one man beckon'd from the rest below,

89Bowing his head against the sleepy mount

90To climb his happiness, would be well express'd

91In our condition.

92Nay, sir, but hear me on.

93All those which were his fellows but of late,

94Some better than his value, on the moment

95Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,

96Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

97Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him

98Drink the free air.

99Ay, marry, what of these?

100When Fortune in her shift and change of mood

101Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants

102Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top

103Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,

104Not one accompanying his declining foot.

105'Tis common:

106A thousand moral paintings I can show

107That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's

108More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well

109To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen

110The foot above the head.

111Imprison'd is he, say you?

112Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt,

113His means most short, his creditors most strait:

114Your honourable letter he desires

115To those have shut him up; which failing,

116Periods his comfort.

117Noble Ventidius! Well;

118I am not of that feather to shake off

119My friend when he must need me. I do know him

120A gentleman that well deserves a help:

121Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt,

122and free him.

123Your lordship ever binds him.

124Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;

125And being enfranchised, bid him come to me.

126'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

127But to support him after. Fare you well.

128All happiness to your honour!

129Lord Timon, hear me speak.

130Freely, good father.

131Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

132I have so: what of him?

133Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

134Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

135Here, at your lordship's service.

136This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,

137By night frequents my house. I am a man

138That from my first have been inclined to thrift;

139And my estate deserves an heir more raised

140Than one which holds a trencher.

141Well; what further?

142One only daughter have I, no kin else,

143On whom I may confer what I have got:

144The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,

145And I have bred her at my dearest cost

146In qualities of the best. This man of thine

147Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,

148Join with me to forbid him her resort;

149Myself have spoke in vain.

150The man is honest.

151Therefore he will be, Timon:

152His honesty rewards him in itself;

153It must not bear my daughter.

154Does she love him?

155She is young and apt:

156Our own precedent passions do instruct us

157What levity's in youth.

158[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid?

159Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

160If in her marriage my consent be missing,

161I call the gods to witness, I will choose

162Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,

163And dispossess her all.

164How shall she be endow'd,

165if she be mated with an equal husband?

166Three talents on the present; in future, all.

167This gentleman of mine hath served me long:

168To build his fortune I will strain a little,

169For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:

170What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,

171And make him weigh with her.

172Most noble lord,

173Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

174My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

175Humbly I thank your lordship: never may

176The state or fortune fall into my keeping,

177Which is not owed to you!

178Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

179I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:

180Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

181A piece of painting, which I do beseech

182Your lordship to accept.

183Painting is welcome.

184The painting is almost the natural man;

185or since dishonour traffics with man's nature,

186He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are

187Even such as they give out. I like your work;

188And you shall find I like it: wait attendance

189Till you hear further from me.

190The gods preserve ye!

191Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;

192We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel

193Hath suffer'd under praise.

194What, my lord! dispraise?

195A more satiety of commendations.

196If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,

197It would unclew me quite.

198My lord, 'tis rated

199As those which sell would give: but you well know,

200Things of like value differing in the owners

201Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,

202You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

203Well mock'd.

204No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,

205Which all men speak with him.

206Look, who comes here: will you be chid?

207Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship.

208He'll spare none.

209Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

210Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;

211When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

212Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

213Are they not Athenians?

214Yes.

215Then I repent not.

216Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?

217Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name.

218Thou art proud, Apemantus.

219Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

220Whither art going?

221To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

222That's a deed thou'lt die for.

223Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

224How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

225The best, for the innocence.

226Wrought he not well that painted it?

227He wrought better that made the painter; and yet

228he's but a filthy piece of work.

229You're a dog.

230Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

231Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

232No; I eat not lords.

233An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies.

234O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

235That's a lascivious apprehension.

236So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

237How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

238Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a

239man a doit.

240What dost thou think 'tis worth?

241Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

242How now, philosopher!

243Thou liest.

244Art not one?

245Yes.

246Then I lie not.

247Art not a poet?

248Yes.

249Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou

250hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

251That's not feigned; he is so.

252Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy

253labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o'

254the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

255What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

256E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.

257What, thyself?

258Ay.

259Wherefore?

260That I had no angry wit to be a lord.

261Art not thou a merchant?

262Ay, Apemantus.

263Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

264If traffic do it, the gods do it.

265Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!

266What trumpet's that?

267'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,

268All of companionship.

269Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.

270You must needs dine with me: go not you hence

271Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done,

272Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

273Most welcome, sir!

274So, so, there!

275Aches contract and starve your supple joints!

276That there should be small love 'mongst these

277sweet knaves,

278And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out

279Into baboon and monkey.

280Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed

281Most hungerly on your sight.

282Right welcome, sir!

283Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time

284In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

285What time o' day is't, Apemantus?

286Time to be honest.

287That time serves still.

288The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.

289Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?

290Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

291Fare thee well, fare thee well.

292Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

293Why, Apemantus?

294Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to

295give thee none.

296Hang thyself!

297No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy

298requests to thy friend.

299Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!

300I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.

301He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,

302And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes

303The very heart of kindness.

304He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,

305Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays

306Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,

307But breeds the giver a return exceeding

308All use of quittance.

309The noblest mind he carries

310That ever govern'd man.

311Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

312I'll keep you company.

1Most honour'd Timon,

2It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age,

3And call him to long peace.

4He is gone happy, and has left me rich:

5Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound

6To your free heart, I do return those talents,

7Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help

8I derived liberty.

9O, by no means,

10Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:

11I gave it freely ever; and there's none

12Can truly say he gives, if he receives:

13If our betters play at that game, we must not dare

14To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.

15A noble spirit!

16Nay, my lords,

17Ceremony was but devised at first

18To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,

19Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;

20But where there is true friendship, there needs none.

21Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes

22Than my fortunes to me.

23My lord, we always have confess'd it.

24Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?

25O, Apemantus, you are welcome.

26No;

27You shall not make me welcome:

28I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

29Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there

30Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame.

31They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond

32man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by

33himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is

34he fit for't, indeed.

35Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to

36observe; I give thee warning on't.

37I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian,

38therefore welcome: I myself would have no power;

39prithee, let my meat make thee silent.

40I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should

41ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of

42men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me

43to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood;

44and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.

45I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:

46Methinks they should invite them without knives;

47Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.

48There's much example for't; the fellow that sits

49next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the

50breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest

51man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a

52huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;

53Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:

54Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

55My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

56Let it flow this way, my good lord.

57Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides

58well. Those healths will make thee and thy state

59look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to

60be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:

61This and my food are equals; there's no odds:

62Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

63Apemantus' grace.

64Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;

65I pray for no man but myself:

66Grant I may never prove so fond,

67To trust man on his oath or bond;

68Or a harlot, for her weeping;

69Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping:

70Or a keeper with my freedom;

71Or my friends, if I should need 'em.

72Amen. So fall to't:

73Rich men sin, and I eat root.

74Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

75Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

76My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

77You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a

78dinner of friends.

79So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat

80like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

81Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then,

82that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em!

83Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you

84would once use our hearts, whereby we might express

85some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves

86for ever perfect.

87O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods

88themselves have provided that I shall have much help

89from you: how had you been my friends else? why

90have you that charitable title from thousands, did

91not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told

92more of you to myself than you can with modesty

93speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm

94you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any

95friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they

96were the most needless creatures living, should we

97ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble

98sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their

99sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished

100myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We

101are born to do benefits: and what better or

102properer can we can our own than the riches of our

103friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have

104so many, like brothers, commanding one another's

105fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born!

106Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to

107forget their faults, I drink to you.

108Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.

109Joy had the like conception in our eyes

110And at that instant like a babe sprung up.

111Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

112I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

113Much!

114What means that trump?

115How now?

116Please you, my lord, there are certain

117ladies most desirous of admittance.

118Ladies! what are their wills?

119There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which

120bears that office, to signify their pleasures.

121I pray, let them be admitted.

122Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all

123That of his bounties taste! The five best senses

124Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely

125To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear,

126Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise;

127They only now come but to feast thine eyes.

128They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance:

129Music, make their welcome!

130You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved.

131Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!

132They dance! they are mad women.

133Like madness is the glory of this life.

134As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.

135We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;

136And spend our flatteries, to drink those men

137Upon whose age we void it up again,

138With poisonous spite and envy.

139Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?

140Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves

141Of their friends' gift?

142I should fear those that dance before me now

143Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;

144Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

145You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,

146Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,

147Which was not half so beautiful and kind;

148You have added worth unto 't and lustre,

149And entertain'd me with mine own device;

150I am to thank you for 't.

151My lord, you take us even at the best.

152'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold

153taking, I doubt me.

154Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you:

155Please you to dispose yourselves.

156Most thankfully, my lord.

157Flavius.

158My lord?

159The little casket bring me hither.

160Yes, my lord. More jewels yet!

161There is no crossing him in 's humour;

162Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should,

163When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could.

164'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,

165That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.

166Where be our men?

167Here, my lord, in readiness.

168Our horses!

169O my friends,

170I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,

171I must entreat you, honour me so much

172As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,

173Kind my lord.

174I am so far already in your gifts,--

175So are we all.

176My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate

177Newly alighted, and come to visit you.

178They are fairly welcome.

179I beseech your honour,

180Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.

181Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee:

182I prithee, let's be provided to show them

183entertainment.

184[Aside] I scarce know how.

185May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,

186Out of his free love, hath presented to you

187Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.

188I shall accept them fairly; let the presents

189Be worthily entertain'd.

190How now! what news?

191Please you, my lord, that honourable

192gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company

193to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour

194two brace of greyhounds.

195I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,

196Not without fair reward.

197[Aside] What will this come to?

198He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,

199And all out of an empty coffer:

200Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,

201To show him what a beggar his heart is,

202Being of no power to make his wishes good:

203His promises fly so beyond his state

204That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes

205For every word: he is so kind that he now

206Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books.

207Well, would I were gently put out of office

208Before I were forced out!

209Happier is he that has no friend to feed

210Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.

211I bleed inwardly for my lord.

212You do yourselves

213Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:

214Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

215With more than common thanks I will receive it.

216O, he's the very soul of bounty!

217And now I remember, my lord, you gave

218Good words the other day of a bay courser

219I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it.

220O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.

221You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man

222Can justly praise but what he does affect:

223I weigh my friend's affection with mine own;

224I'll tell you true. I'll call to you.

225O, none so welcome.

226I take all and your several visitations

227So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give;

228Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,

229And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,

230Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich;

231It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living

232Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast

233Lie in a pitch'd field.

234Ay, defiled land, my lord.

235We are so virtuously bound--

236And so

237Am I to you.

238So infinitely endear'd--

239All to you. Lights, more lights!

240The best of happiness,

241Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!

242Ready for his friends.

243What a coil's here!

244Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!

245I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums

246That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:

247Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,

248Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.

249Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be

250good to thee.

251No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,

252there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then

253thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,

254Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in

255paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and

256vain-glories?

257Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am

258sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come

259with better music.

260So:

261Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:

262I'll lock thy heaven from thee.

263O, that men's ears should be

264To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

1And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore

2He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,

3Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion

4Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.

5If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,

6And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.

7If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more

8Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,

9Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,

10And able horses. No porter at his gate,

11But rather one that smiles and still invites

12All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason

13Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!

14Caphis, I say!

15Here, sir; what is your pleasure?

16Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon;

17Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased

18With slight denial, nor then silenced when--

19'Commend me to your master'--and the cap

20Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,

21My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn

22Out of mine own; his days and times are past

23And my reliances on his fracted dates

24Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,

25But must not break my back to heal his finger;

26Immediate are my needs, and my relief

27Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,

28But find supply immediate. Get you gone:

29Put on a most importunate aspect,

30A visage of demand; for, I do fear,

31When every feather sticks in his own wing,

32Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,

33Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.

34I go, sir.

35'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you,

36And have the dates in contempt.

37I will, sir.

38Go.

1No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,

2That he will neither know how to maintain it,

3Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account

4How things go from him, nor resumes no care

5Of what is to continue: never mind

6Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.

7What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:

8I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.

9Fie, fie, fie, fie!

10Good even, Varro: what,

11You come for money?

12Varro's Servant Is't not your business too?

13It is: and yours too, Isidore?

14Isidore's Servant It is so.

15Would we were all discharged!

16Varro's Servant I fear it.

17Here comes the lord.

18So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again,

19My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will?

20My lord, here is a note of certain dues.

21Dues! Whence are you?

22Of Athens here, my lord.

23Go to my steward.

24Please it your lordship, he hath put me off

25To the succession of new days this month:

26My master is awaked by great occasion

27To call upon his own, and humbly prays you

28That with your other noble parts you'll suit

29In giving him his right.

30Mine honest friend,

31I prithee, but repair to me next morning.

32Nay, good my lord,--

33Contain thyself, good friend.

34Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,--

35Isidore's Servant From Isidore;

36He humbly prays your speedy payment.

37If you did know, my lord, my master's wants--

38Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past.

39Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord;

40And I am sent expressly to your lordship.

41Give me breath.

42I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;

43I'll wait upon you instantly.

44Come hither: pray you,

45How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd

46With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds,

47And the detention of long-since-due debts,

48Against my honour?

49Please you, gentlemen,

50The time is unagreeable to this business:

51Your importunacy cease till after dinner,

52That I may make his lordship understand

53Wherefore you are not paid.

54Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd.

55Pray, draw near.

56Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus:

57let's ha' some sport with 'em.

58Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us.

59Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog!

60Varro's Servant How dost, fool?

61Dost dialogue with thy shadow?

62Varro's Servant I speak not to thee.

63No,'tis to thyself.

64Come away.

65Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already.

66No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet.

67Where's the fool now?

68He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and

69usurers' men! bawds between gold and want!

70What are we, Apemantus?

71Asses.

72Why?

73That you ask me what you are, and do not know

74yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.

75How do you, gentlemen?

76Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress?

77She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens

78as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth!

79Good! gramercy.

80Look you, here comes my mistress' page.

81[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you

82in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?

83Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer

84thee profitably.

85Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of

86these letters: I know not which is which.

87Canst not read?

88No.

89There will little learning die then, that day thou

90art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to

91Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't

92die a bawd.

93Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a

94dog's death. Answer not; I am gone.

95E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with

96you to Lord Timon's.

97Will you leave me there?

98If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?

99Ay; would they served us!

100So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.

101Are you three usurers' men?

102Ay, fool.

103I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my

104mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come

105to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and

106go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house

107merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this?

108Varro's Servant I could render one.

109Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster

110and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be

111no less esteemed.

112Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool?

113A fool in good clothes, and something like thee.

114'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord;

115sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher,

116with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is

117very often like a knight; and, generally, in all

118shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore

119to thirteen, this spirit walks in.

120Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool.

121Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as

122I have, so much wit thou lackest.

123That answer might have become Apemantus.

124Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.

125Come with me, fool, come.

126I do not always follow lover, elder brother and

127woman; sometime the philosopher.

128Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon.

129You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time

130Had you not fully laid my state before me,

131That I might so have rated my expense,

132As I had leave of means?

133You would not hear me,

134At many leisures I proposed.

135Go to:

136Perchance some single vantages you took.

137When my indispos ition put you back:

138And that unaptness made your minister,

139Thus to excuse yourself.

140O my good lord,

141At many times I brought in my accounts,

142Laid them before you; you would throw them off,

143And say, you found them in mine honesty.

144When, for some trifling present, you have bid me

145Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;

146Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you

147To hold your hand more close: I did endure

148Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have

149Prompted you in the ebb of your estate

150And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,

151Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time--

152The greatest of your having lacks a half

153To pay your present debts.

154Let all my land be sold.

155'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone;

156And what remains will hardly stop the mouth

157Of present dues: the future comes apace:

158What shall defend the interim? and at length

159How goes our reckoning?

160To Lacedaemon did my land extend.

161O my good lord, the world is but a word:

162Were it all yours to give it in a breath,

163How quickly were it gone!

164You tell me true.

165If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,

166Call me before the exactest auditors

167And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,

168When all our offices have been oppress'd

169With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept

170With drunken spilth of wine, when every room

171Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy,

172I have retired me to a wasteful cock,

173And set mine eyes at flow.

174Prithee, no more.

175Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!

176How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants

177This night englutted! Who is not Timon's?

178What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is

179Lord Timon's?

180Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!

181Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise,

182The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:

183Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,

184These flies are couch'd.

185Come, sermon me no further:

186No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;

187Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.

188Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack,

189To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart;

190If I would broach the vessels of my love,

191And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,

192Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use

193As I can bid thee speak.

194Assurance bless your thoughts!

195And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd,

196That I account them blessings; for by these

197Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you

198Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends.

199Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!

200My lord? my lord?

201I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius;

202to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour

203to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their

204loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have

205found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let

206the request be fifty talents.

207As you have said, my lord.

208[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum!

209Go you, sir, to the senators--

210Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have

211Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant

212A thousand talents to me.

213I have been bold--

214For that I knew it the most general way--

215To them to use your signet and your name;

216But they do shake their heads, and I am here

217No richer in return.

218Is't true? can't be?

219They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,

220That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot

221Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,--

222But yet they could have wish'd--they know not--

223Something hath been amiss--a noble nature

224May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;--

225And so, intending other serious matters,

226After distasteful looks and these hard fractions,

227With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods

228They froze me into silence.

229You gods, reward them!

230Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows

231Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:

232Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;

233'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;

234And nature, as it grows again toward earth,

235Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.

236Go to Ventidius.

237Prithee, be not sad,

238Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak.

239No blame belongs to thee.

240Ventidius lately

241Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd

242Into a great estate: when he was poor,

243Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends,

244I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me;

245Bid him suppose some good necessity

246Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd

247With those five talents.

248That had, give't these fellows

249To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think,

250That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.

251I would I could not think it: that thought is

252bounty's foe;

253Being free itself, it thinks all others so.

1I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.

2I thank you, sir.

3Here's my lord.

4[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I

5warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver

6basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest

7Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir.

8Fill me some wine.

9And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted

10gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord

11and master?

12His health is well sir.

13I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and

14what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?

15'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my

16lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to

17supply; who, having great and instant occasion to

18use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to

19furnish him, nothing doubting your present

20assistance therein.

21La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas,

22good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not

23keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha'

24dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to

25supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less,

26and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning

27by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty

28is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get

29him from't.

30Please your lordship, here is the wine.

31Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee.

32Your lordship speaks your pleasure.

33I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt

34spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what

35belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if

36the time use thee well: good parts in thee.

37Get you gone, sirrah.

38Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a

39bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou

40knowest well enough, although thou comest to me,

41that this is no time to lend money, especially upon

42bare friendship, without security. Here's three

43solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say

44thou sawest me not. Fare thee well.

45Is't possible the world should so much differ,

46And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness,

47To him that worships thee!

48Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.

49May these add to the number that may scald thee!

50Let moulten coin be thy damnation,

51Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!

52Has friendship such a faint and milky heart,

53It turns in less than two nights? O you gods,

54I feel master's passion! this slave,

55Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him:

56Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment,

57When he is turn'd to poison?

58O, may diseases only work upon't!

59And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature

60Which my lord paid for, be of any power

61To expel sickness, but prolong his hour!

1Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and

2an honourable gentleman.

3We know him for no less, though we are but strangers

4to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and

5which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's

6happy hours are done and past, and his estate

7shrinks from him.

8Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money.

9But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago,

10one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow

11so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and

12showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied.

13How!

14I tell you, denied, my lord.

15What a strange case was that! now, before the gods,

16I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man!

17there was very little honour showed in't. For my own

18part, I must needs confess, I have received some

19small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels

20and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his;

21yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should

22ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents.

23See, by good hap, yonder's my lord;

24I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,--

25Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well:

26commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very

27exquisite friend.

28May it please your honour, my lord hath sent--

29Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to

30that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank

31him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now?

32Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord;

33requesting your lordship to supply his instant use

34with so many talents.

35I know his lordship is but merry with me;

36He cannot want fifty five hundred talents.

37But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.

38If his occasion were not virtuous,

39I should not urge it half so faithfully.

40Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?

41Upon my soul,'tis true, sir.

42What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself

43against such a good time, when I might ha' shown

44myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I

45should purchase the day before for a little part,

46and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now,

47before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more

48beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon

49myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would

50not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now.

51Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I

52hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me,

53because I have no power to be kind: and tell him

54this from me, I count it one of my greatest

55afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an

56honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you

57befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him?

58Yes, sir, I shall.

59I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius.

60True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed;

61And he that's once denied will hardly speed.

62Do you observe this, Hostilius?

63Ay, too well.

64Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the

65same piece

66Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him

67His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in

68My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father,

69And kept his credit with his purse,

70Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money

71Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks,

72But Timon's silver treads upon his lip;

73And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man

74When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!--

75He does deny him, in respect of his,

76What charitable men afford to beggars.

77Religion groans at it.

78For mine own part,

79I never tasted Timon in my life,

80Nor came any of his bounties over me,

81To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest,

82For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue

83And honourable carriage,

84Had his necessity made use of me,

85I would have put my wealth into donation,

86And the best half should have return'd to him,

87So much I love his heart: but, I perceive,

88Men must learn now with pity to dispense;

89For policy sits above conscience.

1Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove

2all others?

3He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus;

4And now Ventidius is wealthy too,

5Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these

6Owe their estates unto him.

7My lord,

8They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for

9They have au denied him.

10How! have they denied him?

11Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him?

12And does he send to me? Three? hum!

13It shows but little love or judgment in him:

14Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like

15physicians,

16Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me?

17Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him,

18That might have known my place: I see no sense for't,

19But his occasion might have woo'd me first;

20For, in my conscience, I was the first man

21That e'er received gift from him:

22And does he think so backwardly of me now,

23That I'll requite its last? No:

24So it may prove an argument of laughter

25To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool.

26I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum,

27Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake;

28I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return,

29And with their faint reply this answer join;

30Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.

31Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The

32devil knew not what he did when he made man

33politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot

34think but, in the end, the villainies of man will

35set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to

36appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked,

37like those that under hot ardent zeal would set

38whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his

39politic love.

40This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled,

41Save only the gods: now his friends are dead,

42Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards

43Many a bounteous year must be employ'd

44Now to guard sure their master.

45And this is all a liberal course allows;

46Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.

1Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.

2The like to you kind Varro.

3Lucius!

4What, do we meet together?

5Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think

6One business does command us all; for mine Is money.

7So is theirs and ours.

8Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too!

9Good day at once.

10Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother.

11What do you think the hour?

12Labouring for nine.

13Lucilius' Servant So much?

14Is not my lord seen yet?

15Lucilius' Servant Not yet.

16I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.

17Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him:

18You must consider that a prodigal course

19Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.

20I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse;

21That is one may reach deep enough, and yet

22Find little.

23I am of your fear for that.

24I'll show you how to observe a strange event.

25Your lord sends now for money.

26Most true, he does.

27And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,

28For which I wait for money.

29It is against my heart.

30Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows,

31Timon in this should pay more than he owes:

32And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,

33And send for money for 'em.

34I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness:

35I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,

36And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.

37Varro's

38Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?

39Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine.

40Varro's

41'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun,

42Your master's confidence was above mine;

43Else, surely, his had equall'd.

44Enter FLAMINIUS.

45One of Lord Timon's men.

46Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to

47come forth?

48No, indeed, he is not.

49We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much.

50I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent.

51Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so?

52He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.

53Do you hear, sir?

54Varro's

55By your leave, sir,--

56What do ye ask of me, my friend?

57We wait for certain money here, sir.

58Ay,

59If money were as certain as your waiting,

60'Twere sure enough.

61Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills,

62When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?

63Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts

64And take down the interest into their

65gluttonous maws.

66You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;

67Let me pass quietly:

68Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end;

69I have no more to reckon, he to spend.

70Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve.

71If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you;

72For you serve knaves.

73Varro's

74How! what does his cashiered worship mutter?

75Varro's

76No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge

77enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no

78house to put his head in? such may rail against

79great buildings.

80O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer.

81If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some

82other hour, I should derive much from't; for,

83take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to

84discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him;

85he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber.

86Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick:

87And, if it be so far beyond his health,

88Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,

89And make a clear way to the gods.

90Good gods!

91We cannot take this for answer, sir.

92[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord!

93What, are my doors opposed against my passage?

94Have I been ever free, and must my house

95Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?

96The place which I have feasted, does it now,

97Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?

98Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus.

99My lord, here is my bill.

100Lucilius' Servant Here's mine.

101And mine, my lord.

102Both

103Varro's Servants And ours, my lord.

104All our bills.

105Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle.

106Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,-

107Cut my heart in sums.

108Mine, fifty talents.

109Tell out my blood.

110Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord.

111Five thousand drops pays that.

112What yours?--and yours?

113Varro's

114My lord,--

115Varro's

116My lord,--

117Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you!

118'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps

119at their money: these debts may well be called

120desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

121They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves.

122Creditors? devils!

123My dear lord,--

124What if it should be so?

125My lord,--

126I'll have it so. My steward!

127Here, my lord.

128So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again,

129Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius:

130All, sirrah, all:

131I'll once more feast the rascals.

132O my lord,

133You only speak from your distracted soul;

134There is not so much left, to furnish out

135A moderate table.

136Be't not in thy care; go,

137I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide

138Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide.

1My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's

2Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die:

3Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

4Most true; the law shall bruise him.

5Honour, health, and compassion to the senate!

6Now, captain?

7I am an humble suitor to your virtues;

8For pity is the virtue of the law,

9And none but tyrants use it cruelly.

10It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy

11Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,

12Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth

13To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't.

14He is a man, setting his fate aside,

15Of comely virtues:

16Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice--

17An honour in him which buys out his fault--

18But with a noble fury and fair spirit,

19Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,

20He did oppose his foe:

21And with such sober and unnoted passion

22He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent,

23As if he had but proved an argument.

24You undergo too strict a paradox,

25Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:

26Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd

27To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling

28Upon the head of valour; which indeed

29Is valour misbegot and came into the world

30When sects and factions were newly born:

31He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer

32The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs

33His outsides, to wear them like his raiment,

34carelessly,

35And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,

36To bring it into danger.

37If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill,

38What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill!

39My lord,--

40You cannot make gross sins look clear:

41To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

42My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,

43If I speak like a captain.

44Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,

45And not endure all threats? sleep upon't,

46And let the foes quietly cut their throats,

47Without repugnancy? If there be

48Such valour in the bearing, what make we

49Abroad? why then, women are more valiant

50That stay at home, if bearing carry it,

51And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon

52Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,

53If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,

54As you are great, be pitifully good:

55Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?

56To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;

57But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.

58To be in anger is impiety;

59But who is man that is not angry?

60Weigh but the crime with this.

61You breathe in vain.

62In vain! his service done

63At Lacedaemon and Byzantium

64Were a sufficient briber for his life.

65What's that?

66I say, my lords, he has done fair service,

67And slain in fight many of your enemies:

68How full of valour did he bear himself

69In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!

70He has made too much plenty with 'em;

71He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often

72Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner:

73If there were no foes, that were enough

74To overcome him: in that beastly fury

75He has been known to commit outrages,

76And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us,

77His days are foul and his drink dangerous.

78He dies.

79Hard fate! he might have died in war.

80My lords, if not for any parts in him--

81Though his right arm might purchase his own time

82And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you,

83Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both:

84And, for I know your reverend ages love

85Security, I'll pawn my victories, all

86My honours to you, upon his good returns.

87If by this crime he owes the law his life,

88Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore

89For law is strict, and war is nothing more.

90We are for law: he dies; urge it no more,

91On height of our displeasure: friend or brother,

92He forfeits his own blood that spills another.

93Must it be so? it must not be. My lords,

94I do beseech you, know me.

95How!

96Call me to your remembrances.

97What!

98I cannot think but your age has forgot me;

99It could not else be, I should prove so base,

100To sue, and be denied such common grace:

101My wounds ache at you.

102Do you dare our anger?

103'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect;

104We banish thee for ever.

105Banish me!

106Banish your dotage; banish usury,

107That makes the senate ugly.

108If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee,

109Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell

110our spirit,

111He shall be executed presently.

112Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live

113Only in bone, that none may look on you!

114I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,

115While they have told their money and let out

116Their coin upon large interest, I myself

117Rich only in large hurts. All those for this?

118Is this the balsam that the usuring senate

119Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment!

120It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd;

121It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,

122That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up

123My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.

124'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;

125Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.

1The good time of day to you, sir.

2I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord

3did but try us this other day.

4Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we

5encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as

6he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.

7It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.

8I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest

9inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me

10to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and

11I must needs appear.

12In like manner was I in debt to my importunate

13business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am

14sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my

15provision was out.

16I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all

17things go.

18Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of

19you?

20A thousand pieces.

21A thousand pieces!

22What of you?

23He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes.

24With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?

25Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.

26The swallow follows not summer more willing than we

27your lordship.

28[Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such

29summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not

30recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the

31music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the

32trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently.

33I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship

34that I returned you an empty messenger.

35O, sir, let it not trouble you.

36My noble lord,--

37Ah, my good friend, what cheer?

38My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame,

39that, when your lordship this other day sent to me,

40I was so unfortunate a beggar.

41Think not on 't, sir.

42If you had sent but two hours before,--

43Let it not cumber your better remembrance.

44Come, bring in all together.

45All covered dishes!

46Royal cheer, I warrant you.

47Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield

48it.

49How do you? What's the news?

50Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it?

51Alcibiades banished!

52'Tis so, be sure of it.

53How! how!

54I pray you, upon what?

55My worthy friends, will you draw near?

56I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.

57This is the old man still.

58Will 't hold? will 't hold?

59It does: but time will--and so--

60I do conceive.

61Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to

62the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all

63places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let

64the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place:

65sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.

66You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with

67thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves

68praised: but reserve still to give, lest your

69deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that

70one need not lend to another; for, were your

71godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the

72gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man

73that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without

74a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at

75the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The

76rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens,

77together with the common lag of people--what is

78amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for

79destruction. For these my present friends, as they

80are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to

81nothing are they welcome.

82Uncover, dogs, and lap.

83What does his lordship mean?

84I know not.

85May you a better feast never behold,

86You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water

87Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;

88Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries,

89Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces

90Your reeking villany.

91Live loathed and long,

92Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,

93Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,

94You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,

95Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!

96Of man and beast the infinite malady

97Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go?

98Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;--

99Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.

100What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,

101Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.

102Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be

103Of Timon man and all humanity!

104How now, my lords!

105Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury?

106Push! did you see my cap?

107I have lost my gown.

108He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him.

109He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has

110beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel?

111Did you see my cap?

112Here 'tis.

113Here lies my gown.

114Let's make no stay.

115Lord Timon's mad.

116I feel 't upon my bones.

117One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.

1Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall,

2That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth,

3And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!

4Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools,

5Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,

6And minister in their steads! to general filths

7Convert o' the instant, green virginity,

8Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast;

9Rather than render back, out with your knives,

10And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal!

11Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,

12And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;

13Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen,

14pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,

15With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear,

16Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,

17Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,

18Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,

19Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,

20Decline to your confounding contraries,

21And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men,

22Your potent and infectious fevers heap

23On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,

24Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt

25As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty

26Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,

27That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,

28And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,

29Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop

30Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath,

31at their society, as their friendship, may

32merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee,

33But nakedness, thou detestable town!

34Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!

35Timon will to the woods; where he shall find

36The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.

37The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all--

38The Athenians both within and out that wall!

39And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow

40To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen.

1Hear you, master steward, where's our master?

2Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

3Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?

4Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,

5I am as poor as you.

6Such a house broke!

7So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not

8One friend to take his fortune by the arm,

9And go along with him!

10As we do turn our backs

11From our companion thrown into his grave,

12So his familiars to his buried fortunes

13Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,

14Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,

15A dedicated beggar to the air,

16With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,

17Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.

18All broken implements of a ruin'd house.

19Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;

20That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,

21Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark,

22And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,

23Hearing the surges threat: we must all part

24Into this sea of air.

25Good fellows all,

26The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.

27Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,

28Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,

29As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,

30'We have seen better days.' Let each take some;

31Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:

32Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.

33O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!

34Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,

35Since riches point to misery and contempt?

36Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live

37But in a dream of friendship?

38To have his pomp and all what state compounds

39But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?

40Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,

41Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,

42When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!

43Who, then, dares to be half so kind again?

44For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.

45My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,

46Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes

47Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!

48He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat

49Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to

50Supply his life, or that which can command it.

51I'll follow and inquire him out:

52I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;

53Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still.

1What art thou there? speak.

2A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,

3For showing me again the eyes of man!

4What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,

5That art thyself a man?

6I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.

7For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,

8That I might love thee something.

9I know thee well;

10But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

11I know thee too; and more than that I know thee,

12I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;

13With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:

14Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;

15Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine

16Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,

17For all her cherubim look.

18Thy lips rot off!

19I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns

20To thine own lips again.

21How came the noble Timon to this change?

22As the moon does, by wanting light to give:

23But then renew I could not, like the moon;

24There were no suns to borrow of.

25Noble Timon,

26What friendship may I do thee?

27None, but to

28Maintain my opinion.

29What is it, Timon?

30Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou

31wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art

32a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for

33thou art a man!

34I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

35Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

36I see them now; then was a blessed time.

37As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

38Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world

39Voiced so regardfully?

40Art thou Timandra?

41Yes.

42Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee;

43Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.

44Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves

45For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth

46To the tub-fast and the diet.

47Hang thee, monster!

48Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits

49Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.

50I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,

51The want whereof doth daily make revolt

52In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved,

53How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,

54Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,

55But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,--

56I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

57I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

58How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?

59I had rather be alone.

60Why, fare thee well:

61Here is some gold for thee.

62Keep it, I cannot eat it.

63When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,--

64Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

65Ay, Timon, and have cause.

66The gods confound them all in thy conquest;

67And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!

68Why me, Timon?

69That, by killing of villains,

70Thou wast born to conquer my country.

71Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on;

72Be as a planetary plague, when Jove

73Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison

74In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one:

75Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;

76He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;

77It is her habit only that is honest,

78Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek

79Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,

80That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,

81Are not within the leaf of pity writ,

82But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,

83Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;

84Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

85Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,

86And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;

87Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;

88Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,

89Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,

90Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:

91Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,

92Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

93Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou

94givest me,

95Not all thy counsel.

96Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse

97upon thee!

98Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?

99Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,

100And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,

101Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,

102Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear

103Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues

104The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths,

105I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;

106And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,

107Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;

108Let your close fire predominate his smoke,

109And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,

110Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs

111With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd,

112No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still;

113Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,

114A pox of wrinkles!

115Well, more gold: what then?

116Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.

117Consumptions sow

118In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,

119And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,

120That he may never more false title plead,

121Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,

122That scolds against the quality of flesh,

123And not believes himself: down with the nose,

124Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away

125Of him that, his particular to foresee,

126Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate

127ruffians bald;

128And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war

129Derive some pain from you: plague all;

130That your activity may defeat and quell

131The source of all erection. There's more gold:

132Do you damn others, and let this damn you,

133And ditches grave you all!

134More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

135More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

136Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:

137If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

138If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

139I never did thee harm.

140Yes, thou spokest well of me.

141Call'st thou that harm?

142Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take

143Thy beagles with thee.

144We but offend him. Strike!

145That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,

146Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,

147Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,

148Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,

149Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,

150Engenders the black toad and adder blue,

151The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,

152With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven

153Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;

154Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,

155From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!

156Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,

157Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!

158Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;

159Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face

160Hath to the marbled mansion all above

161Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!--

162Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;

163Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts

164And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,

165That from it all consideration slips!

166More man? plague, plague!

167I was directed hither: men report

168Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

169'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,

170Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

171This is in thee a nature but infected;

172A poor unmanly melancholy sprung

173From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?

174This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?

175Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;

176Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot

177That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,

178By putting on the cunning of a carper.

179Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive

180By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,

181And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,

182Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,

183And call it excellent: thou wast told thus;

184Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome

185To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just

186That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,

187Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness.

188Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.

189Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;

190A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st

191That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,

192Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,

193That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,

194And skip where thou point'st out? will the

195cold brook,

196Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,

197To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures

198Whose naked natures live in an the spite

199Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,

200To the conflicting elements exposed,

201Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;

202O, thou shalt find--

203A fool of thee: depart.

204I love thee better now than e'er I did.

205I hate thee worse.

206Why?

207Thou flatter'st misery.

208I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.

209Why dost thou seek me out?

210To vex thee.

211Always a villain's office or a fool's.

212Dost please thyself in't?

213Ay.

214What! a knave too?

215If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on

216To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou

217Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again,

218Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery

219Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before:

220The one is filling still, never complete;

221The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,

222Hath a distracted and most wretched being,

223Worse than the worst, content.

224Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

225Not by his breath that is more miserable.

226Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm

227With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.

228Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded

229The sweet degrees that this brief world affords

230To such as may the passive drugs of it

231Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself

232In general riot; melted down thy youth

233In different beds of lust; and never learn'd

234The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd

235The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,

236Who had the world as my confectionary,

237The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men

238At duty, more than I could frame employment,

239That numberless upon me stuck as leaves

240Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush

241Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare

242For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,

243That never knew but better, is some burden:

244Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time

245Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?

246They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?

247If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,

248Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff

249To some she beggar and compounded thee

250Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!

251If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,

252Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

253Art thou proud yet?

254Ay, that I am not thee.

255I, that I was

256No prodigal.

257I, that I am one now:

258Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,

259I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.

260That the whole life of Athens were in this!

261Thus would I eat it.

262Here; I will mend thy feast.

263First mend my company, take away thyself.

264So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

265'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;

266if not, I would it were.

267What wouldst thou have to Athens?

268Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,

269Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

270Here is no use for gold.

271The best and truest;

272For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

273Where liest o' nights, Timon?

274Under that's above me.

275Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

276Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat

277it.

278Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!

279Where wouldst thou send it?

280To sauce thy dishes.

281The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the

282extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt

283and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much

284curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art

285despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for

286thee, eat it.

287On what I hate I feed not.

288Dost hate a medlar?

289Ay, though it look like thee.

290An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst

291have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou

292ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

293Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou

294ever know beloved?

295Myself.

296I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a

297dog.

298What things in the world canst thou nearest compare

299to thy flatterers?

300Women nearest; but men, men are the things

301themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world,

302Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

303Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

304Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of

305men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

306Ay, Timon.

307A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'

308attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would

309beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would

310eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would

311suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by

312the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would

313torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a

314breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy

315greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst

316hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the

317unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and

318make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert

319thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse:

320wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the

321leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to

322the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on

323thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy

324defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that

325were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art

326thou already, that seest not thy loss in

327transformation!

328If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou

329mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of

330Athens is become a forest of beasts.

331How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

332Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of

333company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it

334and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll

335see thee again.

336When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be

337welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

338Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

339Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!

340A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.

341All villains that do stand by thee are pure.

342There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

343If I name thee.

344I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.

345I would my tongue could rot them off!

346Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!

347Choler does kill me that thou art alive;

348I swound to see thee.

349Would thou wouldst burst!

350Away,

351Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose

352A stone by thee.

353Beast!

354Slave!

355Toad!

356Rogue, rogue, rogue!

357I am sick of this false world, and will love nought

358But even the mere necessities upon 't.

359Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;

360Lie where the light foam the sea may beat

361Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,

362That death in me at others' lives may laugh.

363O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

364'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler

365Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!

366Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,

367Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow

368That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,

369That solder'st close impossibilities,

370And makest them kiss! that speak'st with

371every tongue,

372To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!

373Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue

374Set them into confounding odds, that beasts

375May have the world in empire!

376Would 'twere so!

377But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold:

378Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

379Throng'd to!

380Ay.

381Thy back, I prithee.

382Live, and love thy misery.

383Long live so, and so die.

384I am quit.

385Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

386Where should he have this gold? It is some poor

387fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the

388mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his

389friends, drove him into this melancholy.

390It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

391Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not

392for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously

393reserve it, how shall's get it?

394True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

395Is not this he?

396Where?