Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.
Old Ath. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclined to thrift ;
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.
Tim. Well; what further?
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what 1 have got :
The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love : I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort ;
Myself have spoke in vain.
Tim. The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon :
His honesty rewards him in itself ;
It must not bear my daughter.
Tim. Does she love him ?
Old Ath. She is young and apt :
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity 's in youth.
Tim. [To Lucilius.^ Love you the maid ?
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be
I call the gods to witness, 1 will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.
Tim. How shall she be endow' d,
If she be mated with an equal husband ?
Old Ath. Three talents on the present ; in
Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served me
To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter :
What you bestow, in him I '11 counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.
Old Ath. Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Tim. My hand to thee ; mine honour on my
Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship : never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you !
Exeunt Lucilius and Ofd Athenian.
Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your
Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me
Go not away. What have you there, my friend ?
Pai. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
Tim. Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man ;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside : these pencill'd figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work ;
And you shall find I like it : wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.
Pai. The gods preserve ye !
Tim. Well fare you, gentleman : give me your
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffered under praise.
Jeiv. What, my lord ! dispraise ?
Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite. '
Jew. My lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give : but you well
Things of like value differing in the owners
Are prized by their masters : believe 't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
Merch. No, my good lord ; he speaks the com-
Which all men speak with him.
Tim. Look, who comes here : will you be chid ?
Jew. We '11 bear, with your lordship.
Merch. He '11 spare none.
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus !
Ape. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good
When thou art Timon 's dog, and these knaves
Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou
know'st them not.
ACT L, Sc. 2.
TIMON OF ATHENS.
Ape. Are they not Athenians ?
Ape. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me. Apemantus ?
.^pe. Thou know'st I do : I calFd thee by thy
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus ?
Ape. Of nothing so much as that I am not like
Tim. Whither art going ?
Ape. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That 's a deed thou 'It die for.
Ape. Right, if doiug nothing be death by the
Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus ?
Ape. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it ?
Ape. He wrought better that made the painter ;
and yet he 's but a filthy piece of work.
Pai. You 're a dog.
Ape. Thy mother's of my generation : what's
she, if I be a dog?
Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?
Ape. No ; I eat not lords.
Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'Idst anger ladies.
Ape. O, they eat lords ; so they come by great
Tim. That 's a lascivious apprehension.
- Ape. So thou apprehendest it : take it for thy
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will
not cost a man a doit.
Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth ?
Ape. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet !
Poet. How now, philosopher !
Ape. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one ?
Poet. Then I lie not.
Ape. Art not a poet ?
Ape. Then thou liest : look in thy last work,
where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
Poet. That 's not feigned ; he is so.
Ape. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee
for thy labour : he that loves to be flattered is
worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a
Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus ?
Ape. E'en as Apemantus does now ; hate a lord
with my heart.
Tim. What, thyself ?
Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.
Art not thou a merchant ?
Merch. Ay, Apemantus. *
Ape. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not !
Merch. If traffic do it, the gods do it.
Ape. Traffic 's thy god; and thy god confound
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
Tim. What trumpet 's that ?
Mes. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
Tim. Pray, entertain them ; give them guide
to us. Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me : go not you hence
Till I have thank'd you : when dinner 's done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
Enter Alcibiades, with the rest.
Most welcome, sir !
Ape. So, so, there !
Aches contract and starve your supple joints !
That there should be small love 'mougst these
And all this courtesy ! The strain of man 's bred
Into baboon and monkey.
Ale. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.
Tim. Right welcome, sir !
Ere we depart, we '11 share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
Exeunt all except Apemantus.
Enter two Lords.
1 Lord. What time o' day is 't, Apemantus ?
Ape. Time to be honest.
1 Lord. That time serves still.
Ape. The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st
2 Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast ?
Ape. Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat
2 Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well.
Ape. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
2 Lord. Why, Apemantus ?
Ape. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I
mean to give thee none.
1 Lord. Hang thyself !
Ape. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding :
make thy requests to thy friend.
2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I '11 spurn
thee hence !
Ape. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.
1 Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come,
shall we in,
And taste Lord Timon's bounty ? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
2 Lord. He pours it out ; Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward : no meed, but he repays
Sevenfold above itself ; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.
1 Lord. The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern'd man.
2 Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! ShaL
1 Lord. I '11 keep you company. Exeunt.
Scene II. A Room in Timon's House.
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet
served in ; and then enter Lord Timon, Alci-
biades, Lords, Senators, and Ventidius, which
Timon redeemed from prison. Then comes,
dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly,
Ven. Most honour'd Timon,
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's
And call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich :
TIMON OF ATHENS.
ACT L, Sc. 2.
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.
Tim. O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius ; you mistake my love :
I gave it freely ever ; and there 's none
Can truly say he gives, if he receives :
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them ; faults that are rich are fair.
Ven. A noble spirit !
Tim. Nay, my lords,
They all stand ceremoniously looking
Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown ;
But where there is true friendship, there needs
Pray, sit ; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me. They sit.
1 Lord. My lord, we always have con f ess' d it.
Ape. Ho, ho, confess'd it ! hang'd it, have you
Tim. O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
You shall not make me welcome :
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Tim. Fie, thou 'rt a churl ; ye 've got a humour
Does not become a man ; 'tis much to blame.
They say, my lords, ira furor brevis eat ; but
yond man is ever angry. Go, let him have a
table by himself, for he does neither affect com-
pany, nor is he fit for 't, indeed.
Ape. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon : I
come to observe ; I give thee warning on 't.
Tim. I take no heed of thee ; thou 'rt an
Athenian, therefore welcome : I myself would
have 110 power; prithee, let my meat make thee
Ape. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me,
for I should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what
a number of men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not !
It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in
one man's blood; and all the madness is, he
cheers them up too.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men :
Methinks they should invite them without knives ;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There 's much example for 't ; the fellow that sits
next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the
breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest
man to kill him : 't has been proved. If I were
a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals ;
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous
Great men should drink with harness on their
Tim. My lord, in heart ; and let the health go
2 Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Ape. Flow this way ! A brave fellow ! he
keeps his tides well. Those healths will make
thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here 's that
which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water,
which ne'er left man i' the mire :
This and my food are equals ; there 's no odds :
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf ;
I pray for no man but myself :
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond ;
Or a harlot, for her weeping ;
Or a dog, that seems a-steeping ;
Or a keeper with my freedom ;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to 't :
Rich men sin, and I eat root.
Eats and drinks.
Much good dich thy good heart, A.pemantus !
Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the
Ale. My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of
enemies than a dinner of friends.
Ale. So they were bleeding-new, my lord,
there's no meat like 'em : I could wish my best
friend at such a feast.
Ape. Would all those flatterers were thine
enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em
and bid me to 'em !
1 Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my
lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby
we might express some part of our zeals, we should
think ourselves for ever perfect.
Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the
gods themselves have provided that I shall have
much help from you : how had you been my
friends else ? why have you that charitable title
from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my
heart ? I have told more of you to myself than
you can with modesty speak in your own behalf ;
and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think
1, what need we have any friends, if we should
never have need of 'em ? they were the most
needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use
for 'em, and would most resemble sweet instru-
ments hung up in cases that keep their sounds to
themselves. Why, I have often wished myself
poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
are born to do benefits : and what better or
properer can we call our own than the riches of
our friends ? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to
have so many, like brothers, commanding one
another's fortunes ! O joy, e'en made away ere 't
can be born ! Mine eyes cannot hold out water,
methinks : to forget their faults, I drink to you.
Ape. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.
2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes
And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
Ape. Ho, ho ! I laugh to think that babe a
3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you moved me
Ape. Much ! Tucket, within.
Tim. What means that trump?
Enter a Servant.
Ser. Please you, my lord, there are certain
ladies most desirous of admittance.
Tim. Ladies ! what are their wills ?
Ser. There comes with them a forerunner, my
lord, which bears that office, to signify their
Tim. I pray, let them be admitted.
ACT I., Sc. 2.
TIMON OF ATHENS.
Cup. Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
That of his bounties taste ! The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron ; and coine freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom : th' ear,
Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy table rise ;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
Tim. They 're welcome all ; let 'em have kind
Music, make their welcome !
1 Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you 're
Music. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, ivith
lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.
What a sweep of vanity comes this way !
They dance ! they are mad women.
Like madness is the glory of this life,
As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves ;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again,
With poisonous spite and envy.
Who lives that 's not depraved or deprayes ?
Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friends' gift ?
I should fear those that dance before me now
Would one day stamp upon me : 't has been done ;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of
Timon ; and to shoiv their loves, each singles
out an Amazon, and all dance, men with
women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys,
Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace,
Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind ;
You have added worth unto't and lustre,
And entertain'd me with mine own device ;
I am to thank you for 't.
1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best.
Ape. 'Faith, for the worst is filthy ; and would
not hold taking, I doubt me.
Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends
Please you to dispose yourselves.
All Ladies. Most thankfully, my lord.
Exeunt Cupid and Ladies.
Tim. Flavius !
Flav. My lord?
Tim. The little casket bring me hither.
Flav. Yes, my lord. More jewels yet ! Aside.
There is no crossing him in 's humour ;
Else I should tell him, well, i' faith, I should,
When all 's spent, he 'Id be cross'd then, an he
'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.
1 Lord. Where be our men?
Ser. Here, my lord, in readiness.
2 Lord. Our horses !
Re-enter Flavius, with the casJcet.
Tim. O my friends,
I have one word to say to you : look you, my
I must entreat you, honour me so much
As to advance this jewel ; accept it and wear it,
Kind my lord.
1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,
All. So are we all.
Enter a Servant.
Ser. My lord, there are certain nobles of the
Newly alighted, and come to visit you.
Tim. They are fairly welcome.
Flav. I beseech your honour,
Vouchsafe me a word ; it does concern you near.
Tim. Near ! why then, another time I '11 hear
I prithee, let 's be provided to show them enter-
Flav. \_Aside.~] I scarce know how.
Enter another Servant.
2 Ser. May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.
Tim. I shall accept them fairly ; let the presents
Be worthily entertain'd.
Enter a third Servant.
How now ! what news ?
3 Ser. Please you, my lord, that honourable
gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your com-
pany to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent
your honour two brace of greyhounds.
Tim. I '11 hunt with him ; and let them be re-
Not without fair reward.
Flav . [Aside.~] What will this come to ?
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer :
Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good :
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt ; he owes
For every word : he is so kind that he now
Pays interest for 't ; his land 's put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out !
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit.
Tim. You do yourselves
Much wrong, you bate too much of your own
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will
3 Lord. 0, he 's the very soul of bounty !
Tim. And now I remember, my lord, you gave
Good words the other day of a bay courser
I rode on : it is yours, because you liked it.
2 Lord. O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord,
Tim. You may take my word, my lord ; I know,
no man can justly praise but what he does affect :
I weigh my friend's affection with mine own ; I '11
tell you true. I '11 call to you.
All Lords. O, none so welcome.
Tim. I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give ;
TIMON OF ATHENS-.
ACT II., Sc. 2.
Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to niy friends,
And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich ;
It comes in charity to thee : for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.
Ale. Ay, defiled land, my lord.
1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound
Tim. And so
Am I to you.
2 Lord. So infinitely endear' d
Tim. All to you. Lights, more lights !
1 Lord. The best of happiness,
Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon !
Tim. Ready for his friends.
Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon.
Ape. What a coil 's here !
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums !
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of
Me thinks, false hearts should never have sound
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court' sies.
Tim. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I would be good to thee.
Ape. No, I '11 nothing : for if I should be
bribed too, there would be none left to rail upon
thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou
givest so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give
away thyself in paper shortly : what need these
feasts, pomps and vain-glories ?
Tim. Nay, an you begin to rail on society once,
I am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell ;
and come with better music. Exit.
Ape. So : thou wilt not hear me now ; thou
shalt not then : I '11 lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery ! Exit.
Scene L A Senator's House.
Enter Senator, with papers in his hand.
Sen. And late, five thousand : to Varro and to
He owes nine thousand ; besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste ? It cannot hold ; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
And able horses. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold ; no reason
Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho !
C aphis, I say !
Cap. Here, sir ; what is your pleasure ?
Sen. Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord
Importune him for my moneys ; be not ceased
With slight denial, nor then silenced when
Commend me to your master and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus : but tell him,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own ; his days and times are past
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit : I love and honour him,
But must not break my back to heal his finger ;
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone :
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand ; for, I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
Cap. I go, sir.
Sen. I go, sir ! Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in compt.
Cap. I will, sir.
Sen. Go. Exeunt.
Scene II. A Hall in Timon's House.
Enter Flavius, with many bills in his hand.
Flav. No care, no stop ! so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot : takes no account
How things go from him, nor resumes no care
Of what is to continue : never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done ? he will not hear, till feel :
1 must be round with him, now he comes from
Fie, fie, fie, fie !
Enter Caphis, and the Servants of Isidore and
Cap. Good even, Yarro : what,
You come for money ?
Var. Ser. Is 't not your business too ?
Cap. It is : and yours too, Isidore ?
Isi. Ser. It is so.
Cap. Would we were all discharged !
Var. Ser. I fear it.
Cap. Here comes the lord.
Enter Timon, Alcibiades and Lords, fyc.
Tim. So soon as dinner 's done, we '11 forth
My Alcibiades. With me ? what is your will ?
Cap. My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
Tim. Dues ! Whence are you?
Cap. Of Athens here, my lord.
Tim. Go to my steward.
Cap. Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days this month :
My master is awaked by great occasion
To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
That with your other noble parts you '11 suit
In giving him his right.
Tim. Mine honest friend,
I prithee, but repair to me next morning.
Cap. Nay, good my lord,
Tim. Contain thyself, good frienc
Var. Ser. One Yarro' s servant, mygoodlord,-
Isi. Ser. From Isidore;
He humbly prays your speedy payment.
Cap. If you did know, my lord, my master's '
ACT II., Sc. 2.
TIM ON OF ATHENS.
Var. Ser. 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six
Isi. Ser. Your steward puts me off, my lord ;
And I am sent expressly to your lordship.
Tim. Give me breath.
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on ;
I '11 wait upon you instantly.
Exeunt Alcibiades and Lords.
[To Flav.] Come hither : pray you,
How goes the world, that I am thus encounter' d
With clamorous demands of date-broke bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour ?
Flay. Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business :
Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.
Tim. Do so, my friends. See them well enter-
Flav. Pray, draw near. Exit.
Enter Apemantus and Fool.
Cap. Stay, stay, here comes the fool with
Apemantus : let 's ha' some sport with 'em.
Var. Ser. Hang him, he '11 abuse us.
Ixi. Ser. A plague upon him, dog !
Var. Ser. How dost, fool?
Ape, Dost dialogue with thy shadow ?
Var. Ser. I speak not to thee.
Ape. No, 'tis to thyself. [To the Fool.'] Come
Isi. Ser. There 's the fool hangs on your back
Ape. No, thou stand'st single, thou 'rt not on
Cap. Where 's the fool now ?
Ape. He last asked the question. Poor rogues,
and usurers' men ! bawds between gold and want !
All Ser. What are we, Apemantus ?
All Ser. Why ?
Ape. That you ask me what you are, and do
not know yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.
Fool. How do you, gentlemen ?
All Ser. Gramercies, good fool : how does your
Fool. She 's e'en setting on water to scald such