Abroad? why then, women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it,
And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon
Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in suffering. my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good :
Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood ?
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust ;
But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
To be in anger is impiety ;
But who is man that is not angry ?
Weigh but the crime with this.
2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Ale. In vain ! his service done
At Lacedaempn and Byzantium
Were a sufficient briber for his life.
1 Sen. What's that?
Ale. I say, my lords, he has done fair service,
And slain in fight many of your enemies :
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds !
2 Sen. He has made too much plenty with 'em ;
He 's a sworn rioter : he has a sin that often
Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner :
If there were no foes, that were enough
To overcome him : in that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions : 'tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
1 Sen. He dies.
Ale. Hard fate ! he might have died in war.
My lords, if not for any parts in him
Though his right arm might purchase his own time
And be in debt to none yet, more to move you,
Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both :
And, for I know your reverend ages love
Security, I '11 pawn my victories, all
My honours to you, upon his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore ;
For law is strict, and war is nothing more.
1 Sen. We are for law: he dies; urge it no
more,
On height of our displeasure : friend or brother,
He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
Ale. Must it be so ? it must not be. My lords,
I do beseech you, know me.
2 Sen. How !
Ale. Call me to your remembrances.
3 Sen. What !
Ale. I cannot think but your age has forgot me ;
It could not else be, I should prove so base,
To sue, and be denied such common grace :
My wounds ache at you.
1 Sen. Do you dare our anger ?
'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect ;
We banish thee for ever.
Ale. Banish me !
Banish your dotage ; banish usury,
That makes the senate ugly.
1 Sen. If, after two days' shine, Athens contain
thee,
Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell
our spirit,
He shall be executed presently. Exeunt Senators.
Ale. Now the gods keep you old enough ; that
you may live
Only in bone, that none may look on you !
I 'm worse than mad : I have kept back their foes,
While they have told their money and let out
Their coin upon large interest, I myself
Rich only in large hurts. All those for this ?
Is this the balsam that the usuring senate
Pours into captains' wounds ? Banishment !
It comes not ill ; I hate not to be banish' d ;
It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I '11 cheer up
My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds ;
Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.
Exit.
Scene VI, A Banqueting-room in Timon's
House.
Enter divers friends at several doors.
1 Lord. The good time of day to you, sir.
2 Lord. I also wish it to you. I think this
honourable lord did but try us this other day.
1 Lord. Upon that were my thoughts tiring,
when we encountered : I hope it is not so low
with him as he made it seem in the trial of his
several friends.
2 Lord. It should not be, by the persuasion of
his new feasting.
1 Lord. I should think so : he hath sent me an
earnest inviting, which many my near occasions
did urge me to put off ; but he hath conjured me
beyond them, and I must needs appear.
2 Lord. In like manner was I in debt to my
importunate business, but he would not hear my
excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of
me, that my provision was out.
1 Lord. I am sick of that grief too, as I under-
stand how all things go.
ACT IV., Sc. 1.
TIMON OF ATHENS.
765
2 Lord. Every man here 's so. What would he
have borrowed of you ?
1 Lord. A thousand pieces.
2 Lord. A thousand pieces !
1 Lord. What of you ?
2 Lord. He sent to me, sir, Here he comes.
Enter Timon and Attendants.
Tim. With all my heart, gentlemen both ; and
how fare you ?
1 Lord. Ever at the best, hearing well of your
lordship.
2 Lord. The swallow follows not summer more
willing than we your lordship.
Tim. \_Aside.~] Nor more willingly leaves winter ;
such summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our
dinner will not recompense this long stay : feast
your ears with the music awhile, if they will fare
so harshly o' the trumpet's sound; we shall to 't
presently.
1 Lord. I hope it remains not unkindly with
your lordship that I returned you an empty
messenger.
Tim. 0, sir, let it not trouble you.
2 Lord. My noble lord,
The banquet brought in.
Tim. Ah, my good friend, what cheer ?
2 Lord. My most honourable lord, I am e'en
sick of shame, that, when your lordship this other
day sent to me, I was so unfortunate a beggar.
Tim. Think not on 't, sir.
2 Lord. If you had sent but two hours before,
Tim. Let it not cumber your better remem-
brance. Come, bring in all together.
2 Lord. All covered dishes !
1 Lord. Royal cheer, I warrant you.
3 Lord. Doubt not that, if money and the season
can yield it.
1 Lord. How do you? What 's the news?
3 Lord. Alcibiades is banished : hear you of it?
1 and 2 Lords. Alcibiades banished !
3 Lord. 'Tis so, be sure of it.
1 Lord. How ! how !
2 Lord. I pray you, upon what ?
Tim. My worthy friends, will you draw near ?
3 Lord. I '11 tell you more anon. Here 's a
noble feast toward.
2 Lord. This is the old man still.
3 Lord. Will 't hold ? wilt 't hold ?
2 Lord. It does : but time will and so
3 Lord. I do conceive.
Tim. Each man to his stool, with that spur as
le would to the lip of his mistress : your diet
ihall be in all places alike. Make not a city
'east of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree
upon the first place : sit, sit. The gods require
iur thanks.
You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with
;hankfulness. For your own gifts, make your-
selves praised : but reserve still to give, lest your
ieities be despised.' Lend to each man enough,
bhat one need not lend to another ; for, were your
godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake
;he gods. Make the meat be beloved more than
;he man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty
>e without a score of villains : if there sit twelve
vomen at the table, let a dozen of them be as
;hey are. The rest of your fees, O gods the
senators of Athens, together with the common lag
of people what is amiss in them, you gods, make
suitable for destruction. For these my present
friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing
bless them, and to nothing are they welcome.
Uncover, dogs, and lap.
The dishes are uncovered and seen to be
full of warm water.
Some speak. What does his lordship mean ?
Some other. I know not.
Tim. May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends ! smoke and hike-warm
water
Is your perfection. This is Timon's last ;
Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villainy.
Throwing the water in their faces,
Live loathed and long,
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,
Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks !
Of man and beast the infinite malady
Crust you quite o'er ! What, dost thou go ?
Soft ! take thy physic first thou too and thou ;
Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow .none.
Throws the dishes at them, and drives
them out.
What, all in motion ? Henceforth be no feast,
Whereat a villain 's not a welcome guest.
Burn, house ! sink, Athens ! henceforth hated be
Of Timon man and all humanity ! Exit.
Re-enter the Lords, Senators, Sfc.
1 Lord. How now, my lords !
2 Lord. Know you the quality of Lord Timon's
fury?
3 Lord. Push ! did you see my cap ?
4 Lord. I have lost my gown.
1 Lord. He's but a mad lord, and nought but
humour sways him. He gave me a jewel th*
other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat :
did you see my jewel ?
3 Lord. Did you see my cap ?
2 Lord. Here 'tis.
4 Lord. Here lies my gown.
1 Lord. Let 's make no stay.
2 Lord. Lord Timon 's mad.
3 Lord, I feel 't upon my bones.
4 Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next day
stones. Exeunt.
Act IV.
Scene L Without the Walls of Athens.
Enter Timon.
Tim. Let me look back upon thee. thou wall,
That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens ! Matrons, turn incontinent !
Obedience fail in children ! slaves and fools,
Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
And minister in their steads ! to general filths
Convert o' the instant, green virginity,
Do 't in your parents' eyes ! bankrupts, hold fast ;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And out your trusters' throats ! bound servants,
steal!
766
TIMON OF ATHENS.
ACT IV., Sc. 3.
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed ;
Thy mistress is o' the brothel ! Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,
With it beat out his brains ! Piety, and fear,
Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries,
And let confusion live ! Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Athens, ripe for stroke ! Thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners ! Lust and liberty
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves in riot ! Itches, blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms ; and their crop
Be general leprosy ! Breath infect breath,
That their society, as their friendship, may
Be merely poison ! Nothing I '11 bear from thee,
But nakedness, thou detestable town !
Take thou that too, with multiplying bans !
Timon will to the woods ; where he shall find
The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
The gods confound hear me, you good gods all
The Athenians both within and out that wall !
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
To the whole race of mankind, high and low !
Amen. Exit.
Scene II. Athens. A Room in Timon' s House.
Enter Flavius, with two or three Servants.
1 Ser. Hear you, master steward, where 's our
master ?
Are we undone ? cast off ? nothing remaining ?
Flav. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to
you ?
Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
I am as poor as you.
1 Ser. Such a house broke !
So noble a master fall'n ! All gone ! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him !
2 Ser. As we do turn our backs
From our companion thrown into his grave,
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd ; and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.
Enter other Servants.
Flav. All broken implements of a ruined house.
3 Ser. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;
That see I by our faces ; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow : leak'd is our bark,
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat : we must all part
Into this sea of air.
Flav. Good fellows all,
The latest of ray wealth I '11 share amongst you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
, Let 's yet be fellows ; let 's shake our heads, and
say,
As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
We have seen letter days. Let each take some ;
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more :
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
Servants embrace, and part several ways.
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us !
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt ?
Who would be so mock'd with glory ? or to live
But in a dream of friendship ?
To have his pomp and all what state compounds
But only painted, like his varnish' d friends ?
Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodness ! Strange, unusual blood,
When man's worst sin is, he does too much good !
Who, then, dares to be half so kind again ?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
My dearest lord, bless' d, to be most accursed,
Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord !
He 's flung in rage from this in grateful seat
Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it.
I '11 follow and inquire him out :
1 '11 ever serve his mind with my best will ;
Whilst I have gold, I '11 be his steward still.
Exit.
Scene III. Woods and Cave, near the Sea-shore.
Enter Timon, in the Woods.
Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the
earth
Rotten humidity ; below thy sister's orb
Infect the air ! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarce is dividant, touch them with several for-
tunes ;
The greater scorns the lesser : not nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great for-
tune,
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord ;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour.
It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who
dares,
In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say This man's a flatterer ? if one be,
So are they all ; for every grise of fortune
Is smooth 'd by that below : the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool : all is oblique ;
There 's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorr'd
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men !
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains :
Destruction fang mankind ! Earth, yield me
roots ! Digging.
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison ! What is here ?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
I am no idle votarist : roots, you clear heavens !
Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
Wrongright, base noble, oldyoung, coward valiant.
Ha, you gods ! why this ? what this, you gods ?
Why, this
Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
Plnck stout men's pillows from below their heads :
This yellow slave
TIMON OF ATHENS.
767
Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed,
Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves
And give them title, knee and approbation
With senators on the bench : this is it
That makes the wappen'd widow wed again ;
She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature. [March afar off,~\ Ha ! a
drum ? Thou 'rt quick,
But yet I '11 bury thee : thou 'It go, strong thief,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
Nay, stay thou out for earnest.
Keeping some gold.
Enter Alcibiades, with drum and fife, in warlike
manner ; Phrynia and Timandra.
Ale. What art thou there ? speak.
Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw
thy heart,
For showing me again the eyes of man !
Ale. What is thy name ? Is man so hateful to
thee,
That art thyself a man ?
Tim. I am Misanthropes, and hate mankind,
for thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.
Ale. I know thee well ;
But in thy fortunes am unleam'd and strange.
Tim. I know thee too ; and more than that I
know thee,
not desire to know. Follow thy drum ;
(Vith man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules :
leligious canons, civil laws are cruel ;
Then what should war be ? This fell whore of
thine
lath in her more destruction than thy sword,
?or all her cherubin look.
Phr. Thy lips rot off !
Tim. I will not kiss thee ; then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.
Ale. How came the noble Timon to this change ?
Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to
give :
3ut then renew I could not, like the moon ;
There were no suns to borrow of.
Ale. _ Noble Timon,
What friendship may I do thee ?
2}'m._ None, but to
Maintain my opinion.
Ale. ^ What is it, Timon ?
Tim.' Promise me friendship, but perform none :
t thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee,
; or thou art a man ! if thou dost perform, con-
: ound thee, for thou art a man !
Ale. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
Tim. Thou saw'stthem, when I had prosperity.
Ale. I see them now ; then was a blessed time.
Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of
harlots.
Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom
the world
Voiced so regardfully ?
Tim. Art thou Timandra ?
Timan. Yes.
Tim. Be a whore still : they love thee not that
use thee ;
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt hours : season the slaves
For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked
youth
To the tub-fast and the diet.
Timan. Hang thee, monster !
Ale. Pardon him, sweet Timandra ; for his wits
Are drowned and lost in his calamities.
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band : 1 have heard, and grieved,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgettingthy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,
Tim. I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee
gone.
Ale. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
Tim. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost
trouble ?
I had rather be alone.
Alc. f Why, fare thee well :
Here is some gold for thee.
Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it.
Ale. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,
Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens ?
Ale. Ay, Timon, and have cause.
Tim. The gods confound them all in thy con-
quest ;
And thee after, when thou hast conquer 'd !
Ale. Why me, Timon ?
Tim. That, by killing of villains,
Thou wast born to conquer my country.
Put up thy gold : go on, here 's gold, go on ;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison
In the sick air : let not thy sword skip one :
Pity not honour 'd age for his white beard ;
He is an usurer : strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself 's a bawd : let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword for those milk-
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
But set them down horrible traitors : spare not
the babe,
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their
mercy ;
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse : swear against objects ;
Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes ;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor
babes,
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There 's gold to pay thy
soldiers :
Make large confusion ; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself ! Speak not, be gone.
Ale. Hast thou gold yet ? I '11 take the gold
thou givest me,
Not all thy counsel.
Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's
curse upon thee !
Phr. and Timan. Give us some gold, good
Timon : hast thou more ?
Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her
trade,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
768
TIMON OF ATHENS.
ACT IV., Sc. 3.
Your aprons mountant : you are not oathable,
Although, I know, you '11 swear, terribly swear
Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
The immortal gods that hear you, spare your
oaths,
I '11 trust to your conditions : be whores still ;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up ;
Let your close tire predominate his smoke,
And be no turncoats : yet may your pains, six
months,
Be quite contrary : and thatch your poor thin roofs
With burthens of the dead ; some that were
hang'd,
No matter : wear them, betray with them :
whore still ;
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face.
A plague of wrinkles !
Phr. and Timan. Well, more gold : what then?
Believe 't, that we '11 do any thing for gold.
Tim. Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man ; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's
voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly : hoar the flamen,
Tha.t scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself : down with the nose,
Down with it flat ; take the bridge quite away
Of him that, his particular to foresee,
Smells from the general weal : make curl'd-pate
ruffians bald ;
And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you : plague all ;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection. There 's more gold :
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all !
Phr. and Timan. More counsel with more
money, bounteous Timon.
Tim. More whore, more mischief first ; I have
given you earnest.
Ale. Strike up the drum towards Athens !
Farewell, Timon :
If I thrive well, I '11 visit thee again.
Tim. If I hope well, I '11 never see thee more.
Ale. I never did thee harm.
Tim. Yes, thou spokest well of me.
Ale. Call'st thou that harm ?
Tim. Men daily find it. Get thee away, and
take
Thy beagles with thee.
Ale. We but offend him. Strike !
Drum beats. Exeunt Alcibiades,
Phrynia and Timandra.
Tim. That nature, being sick of man's un-
kindness,
Should yet be hungry ! Common mother, thou,
Digging.
Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all ; whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,
Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
WTiereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine ;
Yield him, who all the humane sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root !
Ensear thy fertile and conceptions womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man !
Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves and bears ;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented ! 0, a root, dear thanks !
Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas ;
Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts
And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
That from it all consideration slips !
Enter Apemantus.
More man ? Plague, plague !
Ape. I was directed hither : men report
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.
Tim. 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a
dog,
Whom I would imitate : consumption catch thee !
Ape. This is in thee a nature but infected ;
A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
From change of future. Why this spade ? this
place ?
This slave-like habit ? and these looks of care p
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft ;
Hug their diseased 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 'It observe,
Blow off thy cap ; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent : thou wast told thus ;
Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid
welcome
To knaves and all approachers : 'tis most just
That thou turn rascal ; hadst thou wealth again,
Rascals shouldhave 't. Do not assume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I 'Id throw away myself.
Ape. 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 outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip where thou point' st out ? will the cold
brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures'
Whose na,ked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,
Answer mere nature ; bid them flatter thee ;
O, thou shalt find
Tim. A fool of thee : depart.
Ape. I love thee better now than s'er I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Ape. Why?
Tim. Thou flatter' st misery.
Ape. I flatter not ; but say thou art a caitiff.