Apem. Beast!

Tim. Slave! Apem. Toad!

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 others' lives may laugh. 0 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, loved, 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 makest 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 ;

But not till I am dead!-I'll say, thou hast gold: Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim. Throng'd to?

Apem. Ay.

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.

1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remamder: the mere want of gold, and the fallingfrom 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 eare 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 hiá.

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.

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? í 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,
• For touchstone.

↑ For legal.

That feeds and breeds by a compostare • 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: a

way;

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 mys

tery.

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. [Exeunt Thieves.

Enter FLAVIUS.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yon despised and ruinous man my lord?
Full of decay and falling? O monument
And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of honourt has
Desperate want made!

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 ý to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
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.
Tim. Then

I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
About me, I; all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.

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
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give,
But thorough inst, 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 wild. Let me behold
Thy face. Surely, this man was born of woman.-
Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
Perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim

One honest man,-mistake me not,-but one;
No more, I pray,-and he is a steward.-
How fain would I have hated all mankind,
And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee,
I fell with curses.

Methinks, thou art more honest now, than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying we,
Thou might'st 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?

• Compost, manure.

+ An alteration of honour is an alteration of an honourable state to a state of disgrace.

How happily.

Recommended.

Flat. 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,
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'd exchange

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

Tim. Look hee, 'tis so!-Thou singly honest man, 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: shew charity to none; But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, Ere thou relieve the beggar: give to dogs What thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow them,

Debts wither them: be men like blasted woods, And may diseases lick up their false bloods! And so, farewell, and thrive.

Flav. O, let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.

Tim. If thou hatest

Curses, stay not; fly, whilst thou'rt bless'd and

free:

Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. [Exeunt severally.

ACT V

SCENE I.-The same.-Before Timon's Cave. Enter POET and PAINTER; TIMÓN 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 travel 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 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. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will and 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 fol low youth and opulency.

Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villaiu 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 hini:

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. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple,

Away from human habitation.

The doing of that we said we would do.

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.
[Advancing.

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

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-Ö 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 a
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. 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, 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.

Both. Most thankfully, my lord.
Tim. Will you, indeed?

Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord.

Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave,

That mightily deceives you.
Both. Do we, my lord?

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

Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep in your bosom; yet remain assured,
That he's a made-up villain t.

Pain. I know none such, my lord.
Poet. Nor J.

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

You have done work for me, there's payment:
Hence!

You are an alchymist, make gold of that:-
Out, rascal dogs!

[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 Timon;

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 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.

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.

What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.

The senators, with one consent of love,

Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought Oa special dignities, which vacant lie

For thy best use and wearing.

Sen. They confess,

Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:
Baich 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 rendert,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their 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,
And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it;

Surprize 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.
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 naine
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.

I Sen. Therefore, Timon,

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 t,
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 bruitý 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.

1

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 ches, 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,
Cone 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.

2 Sen. It requires swift foot.

[Exeunt.

Timon.

Thus,

If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by the beards,

Giving our holy virgins to the stain

0: contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;

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.

3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.

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,

• With one united voice of affection.

+ Confession.

Licensed, uncontrolled

A clasp knife.

+i. e. The gods who are the authors of the prosperity of mankind.

He means-the disease of life begins to promise me a period. Report, rumour.

Methodically, from highest to lowest.
Swollen froth.

.. Dreadful.

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.

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 traversed arms, and
breathed

Our sufferance vainly now the time is flush t,
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 insolence 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.

2 Sen. So did we woo

Transformed Timon to our city's love,

Py humble message, and by promised means;
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

1 Sen. These walls of ours

Were not erected by their hands, from whom
You have received your griefs: nor are they such,
That these great towers, trophies, and schools,
should fall

For private faults in them.

2 Sen. Nor are they living,

Who were the motives that you first went out;
Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess
Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
Into our city with thy banners spread :
By decimation, and a tythed death,

(If thy revenges hunger for that food,

1 Sen. All have not offended; For those that were, it is not square, to take, On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin, Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall With those that have offended: like a shepherd, Approach the fold, and cull the infected forth, But kill not all together.

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; Descend, and open your uncharged ports +; Those enemies of Timon's and mine own, Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof, Fall, and no more; and,-io atone ‡ your fears With my more noble meaning,-not a man Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream Of regular justice in your city's bounds, But shall be remedied, to your public laws, At heaviest answer.

Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken,

Alcib. Descend, and keep your words.

The Senators descend, and open the Gates.

Enter a SOLDier.

Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead; Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea: And on his grave-stone, this insculpture; which With wax I brought away, whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance.

Alcib. [Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:

Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked cailiffs 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: Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, Scorn'dst our brain's flow ý, and those our droplets

which

From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
Is noble Timon; of whose memory

Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
And I will use the olive with my sword:
Make war breed peace; make peace stint war;

make each

And by the hazard of the spotted die, Let die the spotted.

i. e. By promising him a competent subsistence.

• Not regular, not equitable. + Unattacked gates. § i. e. Our tears. I Stop.

t Reconcile. Physician.

• Arms across.

RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman.

DESDEMONA, Daughter to Brabantio, and Wife to

Othello.

EMILIA, Wife to lago.

BIANCA, a Courtezan, Mistress to Cassio.

Officers, Gentlemen, Messengers, Musicians, Sailors, Attendants, &c.

of Cyprus.

CLOWN, Servant to Othello.-HERALD.

of the Play, at a Sea-port in Cyprus.

ACT I.

SCENE I-Venice.-A Street.

Enter RODERIGO and IAGO.

Rod. I would not follow him then.
Iago. O, Sir, content you;

I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark

kindly,

That thou, lago,-who hast had my purse,

That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,

this.

Iago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me :If ever I did dream of such a matter,

hate.

Iago. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,

In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,

Oft capp'd to him ;-and, by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:
But he, as loving his own pride and purposes,
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance t,
Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
And, in conclusion, nonsuits

My mediators; for, certest, says he,
I have already chose my officer.

And what was he?

Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife ;
That never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knows

More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric ||,
Wherein the toged consuls can propose
As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice,
Is all his soldiership. But he, Sir, had the election:
And I,-of whom his eyes had seen the proof,
At Rhodes, at Cyprus; and on other grounds
Christian and heathen,-must be be-lee'd and
calm'd

By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster**:
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

And I, (God bless the mark!) his Moorship's ancient.

Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

lago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of service;

Preferment goes by letter, and affection,
Not by the old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, Sir, be judge your
self,

Whether I in any just term am affin'd++
To love the Moor.

• Saluted. + Circumlocution.

cashier'd;

Whip me such honest knaves: others there are,
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves;
And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
Do well thrive by them, and, when they have
lined their coats,

Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul;

And such a one do I profess myself.
For, Sir,

It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:

In following him, I follow but myself;

Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart

In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe t,

If he can carry't thus!

Iago. Call up her father,

Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
As it may lose some colour.

Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. Iago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell,

As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous cities.

Rod. What ho! Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! Iago. Awake! What, ho! Brabantio! Thieves thieves! thieves !

Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags? Thieves I thieves!

BRABANTIO, above, at a Window.

Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons?

What is the matter there?

Rod. Signior, is all your family within?
Iago. Are your doors lock'd?

Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this?

Iago. 'Zounds, Sir, you are robb'd; for shame,. put on your gown:

• Outward show of civility. + Own, possess.