O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue, To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! Apem. Would 'twere so; But not till I am dead!-I'll say thou hast gold: Tim. Throng'd to? Apem. Ay. Tim. Tay back, I pr'ythee. Apem. Live, and love thy misery! Tim. Long live so, and so die!-I am quit.[Exit APEMANTUS. More things like men?-Eat, Timon, and abhor them. Enter Thieves. 1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder: the mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy. 2 Thief. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. 3 Thief. Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it? 2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. 1 Thief. Is not this he? Thieves. Where? 2 Thief. 'Tis his description. 3 Thief. He; I know him. Thieves. Save thee, Timon. Tim. Now, thieves? Thieves. Soldiers, not thieves. Tim. Both too; and women's sons. Thieves. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want? 1 Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts, and birds, and fishes. grape, Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds,and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limited professions. Rascal thieves, Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood of the Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than you rob: take wealth and lives together; Do villany, do, since you profess to do 't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief: The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away! Rob one another. There's more gold: cut throats; All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, Break open shops; nothing can you steal, But thieves do lose it. Steal not less, for this I give you; and gold confound you howsoever! Amen. [TIMON retires to his cave. 3 Thief. He has almost charm'd me from my profession, by persuading me to it. 1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. 2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. 1 Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time so miserable, but a man may be true. Enter FLAVIUS. [Exeunt Thieves. Flav. O you gods! Is yon despised and ruinous man my lord? Full of decay and failing? O monument And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! What an alteration of honour has Desperate want made! What viler thing upon the earth, than friends Tim. Away! what art thou? Flav. Have you forgot me, Sir? Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt man, I have forgot thee. Flav. An honest poor servant of yours. Tim. Then I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man Flav. The gods are witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now My dangerous nature mild. Let me behold One honest man,-mistake me not,-but one; Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; If not a usuring kindness; and, as rich men deal gifts, 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' Suspect still comes where an estate is least. That which I shew, heaven knows, is merely love, For any benefit that points to me, For this one wish,-that you had power and wealth Tim. Look thee, 'tis so!-Thou singly honest man, 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 them, Flar. O, let me stay, And comfort you, my master. Curses, stay not; fly, whilst thou 'rt bless'd and free: ACT V. [Exeunt severally. SCENE I.-The Woods. Before TIMON's Cave. Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON behind, unseen. Pain. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides. Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold? Pain. Certain : Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. 'Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. 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 shew 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. Pain. Good as the best. Promising is the very air '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. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. Tim. 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. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? 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, Tim. 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! '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 Poet. Hail, worthy Timon! [Advancing. Tim. Have I once lived to see two honest men? Poet. Sir, 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'm 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. Pain. He and myself Have travell'd in the great shower of your gifts, 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 Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. [you? Both. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. Tim. You are honest men: you have heard that I have gold; I am sure you have: speak truth; you are honest men. Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend nor I. Tim. Good honest men!-Thou draw'st a counterfeit Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain. So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so, Sir, as I say.-And, for thy fiction, [To the Poet. Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth, That thou art even natural in thine art.But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, Rid me these villains from your companies: Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught, Confound them by some course, and come to me, I'll give you gold enough. Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this,-but two in comEach man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. [To the Painter.] If, where thou art, two villains shall Come not near him.-[To the Poet.] If thou wouldst Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross : A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal Tim. You witch me in it; Surprise me to the very brink of tears: 1 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. 2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Therefore, Timon, Tim. Well, Sir, I will; therefore, I will, Sir; thus: If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens, Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war; Then let him know,-and tell him Timon speaks it, I cannot choose but tell him that I care not, And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph; And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; 1 Sen. We speak in vain. Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not 1 Sen. That's well spoke. Tim. Commend me to my loving countrymen, 1 Sen. These words become your lips as they pass through them. 2 Sen. And enter in our ears, like great triumphers In their applauding gates. Tim. Commend me to them; And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: Flav. Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens, [him. Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Which once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, And let my gravestone be your oracle.- 1 Sen. His discontents are unremovably Coupled to nature. 2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril. 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. Enter Senators from TIMON. 1 Sen. Here come our brothers. 2 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. SCENE IV.-The Woods. [Exeunt TIMON'S Cave, and a Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON. Sol. By all description, this should be the place. Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer?-What is this? Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character Our captain hath in every figure skill; [Exit SCENE V.-Before the Walls of ATHENS. Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES and forces. Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach. [A parley sounded Enter Senators on the walls. Have wander'd with our traversed arms, and breathed 1 Sen. Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, 2 Sen. So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city's love, By humble message and by promised means: 1 Sen. These walls of ours Which nature loathes) take thou the destined tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted die, Let die the spotted. 1 Sen. All have not offended; For those that were, it is not square to take, 2 Sen. What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile, Than hew to't with thy sword. 1 Sen. Set but thy foot Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope: So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, To say thou'lt enter friendly. 2 Sen. Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour else, That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress, And not as our confusion, all thy powers Shall make their harbour in our town, till we Have seal'd thy full desire. Alcib. Then there's my glove; Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken. [The Senators descend, and open the gates. Enter a Soldier. Sol. My noble general, Timon is dead; Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; And on his gravestone this insculpture, which "Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft : Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy gait." These well express in thee thy latter spirits: Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye Hereafter more.-Bring me into your city, And I will use the olive with my sword: SCENE,-During a great part of the Play, at ROME; afterwards, at SARDIS, and near PHILIPPI. ACT I. SCENE I.-ROME. A Street. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and a rabble of Citizens. Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home; Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk Upon a labouring day without the sign Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art thou? Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that I hope I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, Sir, a mender of bad soles. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? 2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, Sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow! 2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is, with the awl; I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old' shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neats-leather have gone upon my handiwork. Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets! 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get my self into more work. But, indeed, Sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he What tributaries follow him to Rome, [home! To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? And do you now put on your best attire! Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault, [Exeunt Citizens Bru. Cassius, Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, Of late, with passions of some difference, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours: Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Cas. 'Tis just: And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: And, since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, [Flourish, and shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear the people Choose Cæsar for their king. Cas. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. Bru. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well:- Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, I was born free as Casar; so were you: And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, Bru. Another general shout! I do believe that these applauses are [Shout. Flourish For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar. Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. |