Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou
hate men?
269

They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff
To some she beggar and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. That the whole life of Athens were in this! 281 Thus would I eat it. [Eating a root. Арет. Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offering him a root. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself.

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

Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; If not, I would it were.

Apem. What wouldst thou have to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,

Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.
Apem. Here is no use for gold.
Tim.
The best and truest; 290
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.
Apem. Where liest o' nights, Timon?
Tim.
Under that's above me.
Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?
Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or,
rather, where I eat it.

Tim. Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!

Apem. Where wouldst thou send it?
Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

299

Apem. 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 knowest none, but art despised for the conThere's a medlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate I feed not. Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

trary.

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee. Apem. An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myself.

Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.

Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers? 319 Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with

Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. 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 livedst 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 german to the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation!

349

Apem. 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.

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

Apem. Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again. Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

359

Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. Tim. Would thou wert clean enough to spit

490

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give
But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with
weeping!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts

To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward

So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
Was born of woman.

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
One 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.

ACT V.

510

Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying me,
Thou mightst have sooner got another service:
For many so arrive at second masters,
Upon 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,

If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,

Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my most worthy master; in whose breast

Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:

520

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 honour'd lord,

For any benefit that points to me,
Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange

For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich yourself.

Tim. Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,

530

Here, take the gods out of my misery
Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and
happy;

But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men;
Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs
What thou deny'st 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.

Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.

II

Pain. Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in us; and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travail for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having.

Poet. What have you now to present unto him? Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece. Poet. I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

21

Το

Pain. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the time: it opens the eyes of expectation performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great sickness in his judgement that makes it. [Timon comes from his cave, behind. Tim. [Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself.

Poet. I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

Tim. [Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in other inen? Do so, I have gold for thee.

Poet. Nay, let's seek him:
Then do we sin against our own estate,
When we may profit meet, and come too late.
Pain. True;

When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. [Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
Than where swine feed!

50

'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,

Settlest admired reverence in a slave :

To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey!
Fit I meet them.
[Coming forward.

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon!

Pain.

Our late noble master!

Tim. Have I once lived to see two honest men?

Having often of your open bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
Whose thankless natures-O abhorred spirits!—
Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:
What! to you,

Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any size of words.

Tim. Let it go naked, men may see 't the better: You that are honest, by being what you are, Make them best seen and known.

71 Pain. He and myself Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, And sweetly felt it.

Tim.

Ay, you are honest men.

Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service.

Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?

Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. Both. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.

Tim. Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold;

men.

I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest 80 Pain. So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore Came not my friend nor I.

Tim. Good honest men! Thou draw'st counterfeit

a

Each man apart, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
If where thou art two villains shall not be,
Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside
But where one villain is, then him abandon.
Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold,
ye slaves:

[To Painter] You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence!

[To Poet] You are an alchemist; make gold of that.

Out, rascal dogs! [Beats them out, and then retires to his cave.

Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators. Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with

Timon;

Bring us to his cave: It is our part and promise to the Athenians To speak with Timon.

Sec. Sen.

120

At all times alike Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, Offering the fortunes of his former days, The former man may make him. Bring us to him, And chance it as it may. Flav. Here is his cave. 129 Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon.

TIMON comes from his cave.

Tim. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and be hang'd:

For each true word, a blister! and each false
Be as a cauterizing to the root o' the tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

First Sen.

Worthy Timon,— Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

First Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee,

160

Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.
First Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return
with us

And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name
Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.

Sec. Sen. And shakes his threatening sword Against the walls of Athens.

First Sen.

Therefore, Timon,- 170 Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus:

If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

220

Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Who once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, And let my grave-stone be your oracle. Lips, let sour words go by and language end: What is amiss plague and infection mend! Graves only be men's works and death their gain! Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Retires to his cave. First Sen. His discontents are unremoveably Coupled to nature

230

Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
In pity of our aged and our youth,

I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, 180
And let him take't at worst; for their knives care

First Sen. These words become your lips as they pass thorough them.

Sec. Sen. And enter in our ears like great triumphers

In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them, 200 And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:

I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. First Sen. I like this well; he will return again. Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,

210

That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
From high to low throughout, that whoso please

It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. Enter two Senators and a Messenger. First Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files

As full as thy report?

Mess.
I have spoke the least:
Besides, his expedition promises
Present approach.

Sec. Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force,

And made us speak like friends: this man was riding

From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
With letters of entreaty, which imported
His fellowship i' the cause against your city,
In part for his sake moved.
First Sen.

ΙΟ

Here come our brothers.

Enter the Senators from TIMON. Third Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him

expect.

The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare.