Enter APEMANTUS.

More man? plague, plague!

Apem. I was directed hither: men report Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

Tim. "Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, 200 Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

Apem. This is in thee a nature but infected; A poor unmanly melancholy sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?

This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie

soft;

To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,

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

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

Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; 220 A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,

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

That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip where thou point'st out? will the
cold brook,
Candied with ice, candle thy morning taste,

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

less, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse than the worst, content. Thou shouidst desire to die, being miserable.

Tim. Not by his breath that is more miserable.

Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm With favor never clasp'd; but bred a dog. Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, pro

ceeded

The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged

thyself

In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary, 260
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts

of men

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 contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate I feed not. Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

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?

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, thon 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

Tim. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! Choler does kill me that thou art alive; I swound to see thee.

Apem.

Tim.

Would thou wouldst burst!

Away, Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose A stone by thee. [Throws a stone at him.

Apem. Tim. Apem.

Tim.

Beast!

Slave !

Toad!

Rogue, rogue, rogue!

I am sick of this false world, and will love

nought

But even the mere necessities upon 't.
Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily make thine epitaph-
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
[To the gold] O thou sweet king-killer, and

First Ban. 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.

Sec. Ban. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

Third Ban. 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?

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

First Ban. Is not this he?
Banditti. Where?

Sec. Ban. 'Tis his description.
Third Ban. He; I know him.

Banditti. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves?

Banditti. Soldiers, not thieves.

Tim. Both too; and women's sons.

410

Banditti. We are not thieves, but men that

much do want.

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, 450
But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this
I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er!
Amen.

Third Ban. Has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

First Ban. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

Sec. Ban. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

460

First Ban. Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time so miserable but a man may be true. [Exeunt Banditti.

Enter FLAVIUS.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yond 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 honor
Has desperate want made!

469

What viler thing upon the earth than friends Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, When man was wish'd to love his enemies! Grant I may ever love, and rather woo

Those that would mischief me than those that do!

Has caught me in his eye: I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
Still serve him with my life. My dearest mas-

ter!

Tim. Away! what art thou ?

forgot thee.

Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.
Tim. Then I know thee not:

I never had honest man about me, I ; all
I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to vil-
lains.

Flav. The gods are witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. Tim. What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee,

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st 490 Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleep

ing:

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 swal-
low 'em,

Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like blasted woods,

And may diseases lick up their false bloods! And so farewell and thrive.

SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave.

Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave.

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 rumor hold for true, that he's 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.

11

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.

21

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 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 To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testa-, ment which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.

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

est men.

80

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 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,

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!

Pain. So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore

Came not my friend nor I.

Tim. Good honest men! Thou draw'st a

50

To make it known to us. Tim.

You'll take it ill.

Will you, indeed ?

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

Both. Most thankfully, my lord.

Tim.

Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord.

Tim. There's never a one of you but trusts

the foam,

Settlest admired reverence in a slave:

a knave,

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

That mightily deceives you. Both.

Do we, my lord ?

[Coming forward.

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon ! Pain.

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,

Our late noble master!

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

Poet. Sir,

Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured 100 That he's a made-up villain.

60

Having often of your open bounty tasted, Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n

Pain. I know none such, my lord. Poet.

Nor I.

off,

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 company;

110

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 re-

side

And sweetly felt it. Tim.

But where one villain is, then him abandon. Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for

Ay, you are honest men. Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service.

gold, ye slaves :

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

Tim. Most honest men! Why, Low shall I

[To Poet] You are an alchemist; make gold

requite you ?

of that.

Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.

Both. What we can do, we'll do, to do you

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

service.