網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

A dedicated beggar to the air,

With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,

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

Enter other Servants.

Flav. All broken implements of a ruin'd house.
3 Serv. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our bark;
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.

Flav.

Good fellows all,

The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
As 't were a knell unto our master's fortunes,

"We have seen better days."

Let each take some;

[Giving them money. Not one word more :

Nay, put out all your hands.
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.

[Exeunt Servants.
O, the fierce a wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory? or to live
But in a dream of friendship?

To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart;
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,b
When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!
Who then dares to be half so kind again?

For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
My dearest lord,-bless'd to be most accurs'd,
Rich, only to be wretched-thy great fortunes

a Fierce-violent, excessive. b Blood-natural disposition.

Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful seat

Of monstrous friends:

Nor has he with him to supply his life,
Or that which can command it.
I'll follow, and inquire him out :

I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold I'll be his steward still.

SCENE III.-The Woods.

Enter TIMON.

[Exit.

Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb

Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,-
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,

Scarce is dividant,-touch them with several fortunes;
The greater scorns the lesser: Not nature,

To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
But by contempt of nature:

Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour :

It is the pasture lards the brother's sides,

The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,

a There is considerable obscurity in all this passage, both in the progress of the thought and the form of expression. It appears to us that it may be simplified by bearing in mind that one idea runs through the whole from the commencement, "twinn'd brothers," down to "the want that makes him lean." Touch the twinn'd brothers with several fortunes, that is, with different fortunes, and the greater scorns the lesser. The poet then interposes a reflection that man's nature, obnoxious as it is to all miseries, cannot bear great fortune without contempt of kindred nature. The greater and the lesser brothers now change places :—

"Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord." The lord is now despised, the beggar now honoured; and the poet goes on to show that the difference of property is the sole

In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, "This man's a flatterer"? If one be,
So are they all; for every grize' of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique ;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorr'd
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
Destruction fang mankind!-Earth, yield me roots!
[Digging.

Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison! What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold?
No, gods, I am no idle votarist.

Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this, will make

Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;

Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.

Ha, you gods! why this? What this, you gods? Why

this

Will lug your priests and servants from your sides;
Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads :b
This yellow slave

Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench: this is it,

cause of the difference of estimation. He puts this in the most contemptuous way, making the power of feeding and fattening constitute the great distinction between the brother, whose pasture lards his sides, and him, the other brother, whose want produces leanness.

a Grize, greese, griece, gree, are all words expressing a step -a degree.

b Stout means here, in health. There was a notion that the departure of the dying was rendered easier by removing the pillow from under their heads.

That makes the wappen'd widow wed again:
She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To the April-day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee

Do thy right nature.[March afar off]-Ha! a drum?-Thou 'rt quick,

But yet I'll bury thee: Thou 'lt go, strong thief,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand :-
Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping some gold.

Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA.

Alcib. Speak, what art thou there?

Tim. A beast, as thou art.

heart,

The canker gnaw thy

For showing me again the eyes of man!

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

That art thyself a man?

Tim. I am misanthropos, and hate mankind.

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

That I might love thee something.

Alcib.

I know thee well;

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Tim. I know thee too; and more, than that I know thee,

I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;

With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;

Then what should war be?

This fell whore of thine

Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

Phry.

Thy lips rot off!

a The April-day is not the fool's day, as Johnson imagined; but simply the spring-time of life.

Tim. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns To thine own lips again.

Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this change? Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give: But then renew I could not, like the moon;

There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcib. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee? Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.

Alcib. What is it, Timon?

Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none: If thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for thou 'rt

a man!

Alcib. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. Tim. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. Alcib. I see them now; then was a blessed time. Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world Voic'd so regardfully?

Tim.

Timan. Yes.

Art thou Timandra?

Tim. Be a whore still! They love thee not that use thee.

Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth
To the tub-fast and the diet.

Timan.

Hang thee, monster!

Alcib. Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.

I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band: I have heard, and griev'd,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-

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

« 上一頁繼續 »