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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 cae;
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.

SCENE I. The same. 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.

Methinks, thou art more honest now, than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying me,
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


Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late ; You should have fear'd false times, when you did feast:

Suspect still comes where an estate is least.

That which I show, 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 thee, '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: 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 swallow them,

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

O, let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.


If thou hat'st 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.


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 show 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, 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, Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come.

What a god's

Tim. I'll meet you at the turn.
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.


Poct. Hail, worthy Timon!

Our late noble master.
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!
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, And sweetly felt it.

Ay, you are honest men.
Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service.
Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I re-
quite you?

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
I have gold;

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

Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively.


Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest men :-Thou draw'st a coun


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-natur'd friends, I must eeds say, you have a little ult: 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.
You'll take it ill.
Both. Most thankfully, my lord.
Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord.
Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave,
That mightily deceives you.

Will you, indeed?


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 assur'd,
That he's a made-up villain.

Pain. I know none such, my lord.

Nor I.

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
company: -
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 [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon. Hence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye slaves :

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

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And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain


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 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 Coupled to nature.
Against the walls of Athens.

1 Sen.
Therefore, Timon,
Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir;
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair

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.


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

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. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Walls of Athens.
Enter Two Senators, and a Messenger.

1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd ; are his files As full as thy report.


Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;
I have spoke the least:
Then, let him know,—and tell him, Timon speaks it, Besides, his expedition promises
In pity of our aged, and our youth,
Present approach.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not

I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not,
And let him tak'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.


Stay not, all's in vain.


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


From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
With letters of entreaty, which imported

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Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON.

Sold. 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.
Dead, sure; and this his grave.
What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character
I'll take with wax :


Our captain hath in every figure skill;
An ag'd interpreter, though young in days:
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.


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 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 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, By humble message, and by promis'd 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 receiv'd 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 tithed death,

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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 rampir'd gates, and they shall ope; So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, 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.

-not a man

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, - to atone your fears With my more noble meaning, Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream Of regular justice in your city's bounds, But shall be rendered, to your publick 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.

Sol. 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.


[Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft : Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked caitiff's 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 will express in thee thy latter spirits: Though thou abhorr❜dst in us our human grief's, Scorn'dst our brain's flow, 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. Deaa
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
Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.
Let our drums strike.






TITUS LARTIUS, generals against the Volscians
MENENIUS AGRIPPA, friend to Coriolanus.


tribunes of the people.

Young MARCIUS, son to Coriolanus.

A Roman Herald.

TULLUS AUFIDIUS, general of the Volscians.

Lieutenant to Aufidius.

Conspirators with Aufidius.

Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians, Ediles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers, Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.

SCENE,-partly in Romz; and partly in the territories of the VOLSCIANS and ANTIATES.

SCENE I.- Rome. A Street.

Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons.


1 Cu. Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

A Citizen of Antium.
Two Volscian Guards.

Cit. Speak, speak. [Several speaking at once. 1 Cit. You are all resolved rather to die, than to famish?

VOLUMNIA, mother to Coriolanus.
VIRGILIA, wife to Coriolanus.
VALERIA, friend to Virgilia.
Gentlewoman, attending Virgilia.

1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict?


Cit. No more talking on't let it be done : away, away.

2 Cit. One word, good citizens.

1 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians, good: What authority surfeits on, would relieve us; If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess, they relieved us humanely; but they think, we are too dear the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.


1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself with being proud.

2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously.

Cit. Resolved, resolved.

1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done fa

1 Cit. First you know, Caius Marcius is chief mously, he did it to that end; though soft conenemy to the people.

Cit. We know't, we know't.

scienc'd men can be content to say, it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue.

2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him: You must in no way say, he is covetous.

1 Cit. If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. [Shouts within.] What shouts are these? The other side o'the city is risen: Why stay we prating here? to the Capitol.

Cit. Come, come.

1 Cit. Soft; who comes here?

- Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty.

2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country?


2 Cit. Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved the people.

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