Apem. I was directed hither: men report,
Thou dost alect my manners, and dost use them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected;
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;
Hng their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot,
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: thou wast told thus ;
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome,
To knaves, and all approachers: 'tis most just,
That thou turn rascal; had'st thou wealth again,
Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like
thyself;

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 outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip, when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? call the creatures,-
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreak ful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,

Answer mere nature, -bid them flatter thee;

O thou shalt find

Tim. A fool of thee. Depart!

Apem. I love thee better now, than e'er I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.

Apem. Ay.

Tim. What! a knave too?

Apem. If thou did'st put this sour-cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never complete;
The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.

Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.
Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Had'st thou, like us, from our first swath, proceeded
The sweet degrees, that this brief world allords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou would'st have plung'd 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;
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment;

Tim. I, that I am one now;

Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone!·
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it.

Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast.

[Eating a root.

[Offering him something.. 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 would'st 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:

For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.
Apem. Where ly'st 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 would'st thou send it?

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy guilt, 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 medlers sooner, thou should'st have lov'd thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst thou ever know beloved? Apem. Myself.

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

Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What would'st thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Would'st thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts? Apem. Ay, Timon.

:

Tim. Thy 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.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee But not till I am dead!-I'll say, thou hast gold:
to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.
beguile thee: if thou wert the lamb, the fox would Tim. Throng'd to?
eat thee if thou wert the fox, the lion would sus- Apem. Ay.
pect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accused by
the ass if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would tor-
ment thee; and still thou lived'st but as a breakfast
to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness
would afflict thee, and oft thou should'st hazard thy
life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, pride and
wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self 1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is
the conquest of thy fury: wert thou a bear, thou some poor fragment, some slender ort of his re
wouldst be killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, mainder. The mere want of gold, and the falling-
thou would'st be seized by the leopard; wert thou a from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy.
leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots 2 Thief. It is noised, he hath a mass of treasure.
of thy kindred were jurors on thy life: all thy safety 3 Thief. Let us make the assay upon him; if he
were remotion, and thy defence, absence. What care not for't, he will supply us easily; if he co-
beast could'st thou be, that were not subject to a vetously reserve it, how shall's get it?
beast? and what a beast art thou already, that seest 2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.
not thy loss in transformation?
1 Thief. Is not this he?
Thieves. Where?

Apem. If thou could'st please me with speaking to me, thou might'st 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.

Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
Tim. 'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.
Apem. A plague on thee, thou art too bad to curse.
Tim. All villains, that do stand by thee, are pure.
Apem. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.
Tim. If I name thee.-

I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
Apem. I would, my tongue could rot them off!
Tim. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Apem. Would thou would'st burst!

Tim. Away,

Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry, I shall lose

A stone by thee.

Apem. Beast!

Tim. Slave!
Apem. Toad!

[Throws a stone at him.

Tim. Rogue, rogue, rogue!

[Apemantus retreats backward, as going.
I am sick of this false world; and will love nought
But even the mere necessities upon it.
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 other's lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

[Looking on the gold.
'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's purest bed; thou valiant Mars!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow,
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That solder'st close impossibilities,
And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue,
To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!

Apem. 'Would 'twere so;

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 briars 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.
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 grape,
Till the high fever seeth 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 villainy, 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!
[Timon retires to his cave.

Amen.

3 Thief. He has almost charmed 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

Those, that would mischief me, than those, that do! Flav. O, let me stay,

He 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 master!

TIMON comes forward from his cave.

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.

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
Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey!
'Fit I do meet them.

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon!
Pain. Our late noble master.

[Advancing.

Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men?
Poet. Sir,

Having often of your open bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall'n off,
Whose thankless natures-O abhorred spirits!
Nor all the whips of heaven are large enough -
What! to you!

Whose star-like nobleness gave live 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.

Confound them by some course, and come to me,
I'll give you gold enough.

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

Tim. You are honest men: you have heard, that
have gold;

Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them.
Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in com-

pany:

Le

An

1

An

Th

All

Liv

W

His

Each man apart, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
If, where thou art, two villains shall not be,
[To the Painter.
Come not near him. If thou would'st not reside

I

I am sure, you have: speak truth: you are honest

-

[To the Poet.

But where one villain is, then him abandon.-
Hlence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye

and for thy fiction,
[To the Poet.
Why, thy verses swell with stuff so fine and smooth,
That thou art even natural in thine art.
But, for all this, my honest natur'd friends,
I must needs say, you have a little fault:

Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I,
You take much pains to mend.

Both. Beseech your honour,
To make it known to us.

Tim. You'll take it ill.

lord.

Tim. Will you indeed?

Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord!

[Exit, beating and driving them out.

SCENE II.-The same.
Enter FLAVIUS, and two Senators.
Flav. It is in vain, that you would speak with Ti-

mon;

For he is set so only to himself,

That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.

1 Sen. Bring us to his cave:

It is our part, and promise to the Athenians,
To speak with Timon.

2 Sen. At all times alike

Men are not still the same. 'Twas time and griefs,
That fram'd 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.

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!

Enter TIMON.

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

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

1 Sen. Worthy Timon,

Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. 2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timou! Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

1 Sen. O, forget

What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.

The senators, with one consent of love,

Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought

On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

2 Sen. They confess

Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave, Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:
That mightily deceives you.

Both Do we, my lord?

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dis-
semble,

Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,

Keep in your bosom: yet remain assur'd,

That he's made-up villain.

Pain. I know noue such, my lord.

Poet. Nor I.

Which now the public body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter, feeling in itself

A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And send forth us, to make their sorrowed render,
Together with a recompense more fruitful,
Than the offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,

Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you And write in thee the figures of their love,
gold,

Rid me these villains from your companies:

Ilang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught,

Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it;

Surprise me to the very brink of tears:

If

Le

TH

Gi

01

TH

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd
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,
And let him take't at worst; for their knives care

not,

While you have throats to answer: for myself,
There's not a whittle in the unruly camp,
But I do prize it at my love, before

The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph,

It will be seen to-morrow. My long sickness

Of health, and living, now begins to mend,

And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,

And last so long enough!

1 Sen. We speak in vain.

Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not
One, that rejoices in the common wreck,
As common bruit doth put it. -

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,
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.
2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.
Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
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
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself:- I pray you, do my greeting.
Flav. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall

find him.

Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
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 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.
[Exit Timon.

1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably
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.

1 Sen. It requires swift foot.

SCENE III. — The walls of Athens.

[Exeunt.

Enter two Senators, and a Messenger.

1 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.

2 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 oppos'd, 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 mov'd.

Enter Senators from Timon.

1 Sen. Here come our brothers. 3 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. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The woods. Timon's cave, and a tomb

[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.
[4 parley sounded.

Enter Senators on the walls.
Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
As slept within the shadow of your power,
Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breath'd
Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush,
When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong,
Cries, of itself, No more: now breathless wrong
Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease;
And pursy indolence shall break his wind
With fear, and horrid flight.

1 Sen. Noble, and young,

When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou hadst power, or we had cause of fear,
We sent to thee; to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
Above their quantity.