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Tim. What! a knave too? Apem. If thou didst 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,
Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.
They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?
Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Art thou proud yet?
I, that I am one now;
Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
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?
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.
Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
Apem. What things in the world canst thon 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. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee: if thou wert the 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 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 the conquest of thy fury: wert thou a bear, thou would'st be killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou would'st be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jarors on thy life: all thy safety were remotion; and thy defence, absence. What beast could'st thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation?
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.
I'll beat thee-but I should infect my hands.
'Would thou would'st burst! Away,
Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry, I shall lose
Rogue, rogue, rogue!
TIMON OF ATHENS.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every
To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.
Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee.
Live, and love thy misery! Apem. 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 remainder: 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 care 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 bid.
1 Thief. Is not this he?
2 Thief. 'Tis his description.
Thieves, Soldiers, not thieves.
Thieves. We are not thieves, but men that much
As beasts, and birds, and fishes.
Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds,
You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con,
Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he
Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: There
Flav. O you gods!
Is you despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
Desperate want made!
What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Have you forgot me, sir?
I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
The gods are witness.
Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now
My dangerous nature wild. Let me behold
Methinks, thou art more honest now than wise;
If not a usuring kindness; and as rich men deal
Expecting in return twenty for one?
Flav. No, my most worthy master, in whose
Suspect still comes, where an estate is least.
For any benefit that points to me,
For this one wish, That you had power and wealth
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:
And comfort you, my master. Tim.
O, let me stay,
If thou hat'st
Curses, stay not; fly, while thou'rt bless'd and free: Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. [Exeunt severally.
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. 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 honesty 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 the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
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. Tim. Ay, you are honest men. Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service. Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I re
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;
[men. I am sure, you have: speak truth: you are honest Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend, nor I.
Tim. Good honest men:-Thou draw'st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best;
So, so, my lord.
Tim. Even so, sir, as I say :-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.
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.
Do we, my lord? Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Pain. I know none such, my lord.
Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you
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 com
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
You have done work for me, there's payment: Hence!
And shakes his threat'ning sword
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;
SCENE II.-The same.
Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators.
In pity of our aged, and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not,
Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with There's not a whittle in the unruly camp,
For he is set so only to himself,
That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.
Bring us to his cave:
It is our part, and promise to the Athenians,
At all times alike
Men are not still the same: 'Twas time and griefs,
Here is his cave.-
Worthy Timon, Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. 2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
Could I but catch it for them.
Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross :
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Stay not, all's in vain.
That's well spoke.
And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,
I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.
Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return,
It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.
Enter Senators from Timon. Here come our brothers. 3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful sconring 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-stone seen.
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.
Our captain bath in every figure skill;
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.
So did we woo
Transformed Timon to our city's love,
By humble message, and by promis'd means:
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.
Nor are they living,
2 Sen. Who were the motives that you first went out; Shame, that they wunted cunning, in excess Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, Into our city with thy banners spread: By decimation, and a tithed death, (If thy revenges hunger for that food, Which nature loaths,) take thou the destin'd tenth; And by the hazard of the spotted die, Let die the spotted.
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.
What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile, Than hew to't with thy sword.
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 Interpret, for my poor ignorance.
Alcib. (Reads.) Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:
Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked caitiffs 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, and those our droplets