Who seeks for better of thee, fawce his palate
With thy most operant poifon! -What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, Gods!
I am no idle votarist. 7'Roots, clear` heav'ns!

Thus much of this will make black, white; foul, fair; Wrong, right; bafe, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. You Gods! why this?'why this? you Gods!-why, Will lug your priefts and fervants from your fides: [this Pluck fick mens pillows from below their heads.

This yellow flave

2

1

Will knit and break religions; blefs th' accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprofie ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation
With fenators on the bench: this, this is it,
That makes the 'waped widow wed again;
3 'Her, whom the fpittle-house and ulcerous fores
Would caft the gorge at, this embalms and fpices
To th' April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'it 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'll bury thee

thou❜lt go (ftrong thief)

When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.

Nay, tay thou out for earneft. [Keeping fome gold.

SCENE

IV.

Enter Alcibiades with drum and fife in warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra.

Alc. What art thou there? fpeak.

Tim. A beaft, as thou art.

Cankers gnaw thy heart

For fhewing me again the eyes of man!

Alc. What is thy name? is man fo hateful to thee,

That art thy felf a man?

Tim. I am Mifanthropos, and hate mankind.

D 3
9 ftout

For

I this is it

2 wappen'd... old edit. Warb. emend.

3 She,

For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee fomething.
Alc. I know thee well:

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Tim. I know thee too, and more than as I know thee I not defire to know. Follow thy drum,

'And with man's blood paint all the ground gules, gules; Religious canons, civil laws are cruel,

Then what should war be? this fell whore of thine

Hath in her more deftruction than thy fword,

For all her cherubin look.

Phry. Thy lips rot off!

Tim. I will not kifs thee, then the rot returns To thine own lips again.

Alc. How came the noble Timon to this change? Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give : But then renew I could not like the moon;

There were no funs to borrow of.

Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee? Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.

Alc. What is it, Timon?

Tim. Promife me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt not promife, the Gods plague thee, for thou art a man if thou doft perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alc. I've heard in fome fort of thy miferies.
Tim. Thou faw'ft them when I had profperity.
Alc. I fee them now, then was a bleffed time.

Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. Timan. Is this th' Athenian minion, whom the world Voic'd fo regardfully?

Tim. Art thou Timandra?

Timan. Yes.

Tim. Be a whore ftill: they love thee not that ufe thee: Give them difeafes, leaving with thee their luft:

Make ufe of thy falt hours, feason the flaves

For tubs and baths, bring down the rofe-cheek'd youth

4 With man's blood paint the

5/To

''To th' tub-faft, and the diet.

Timan. Hang thee, monster!

Alc. Pardon him, fweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and loft in his calamities.

I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof did daily make revolt

6

In my penurious band. I have heard` and griev'd,
How curfed 'Athens is mindlefs of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states
But for thy fword and fortune had trod on them.
Tim. I pr'ythee beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alc. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
Tim. How doft thou pity him, whom thou doft trouble?
l'ad rather be alone.

Alc. Why, fare thee well,

Here's gold for thee.

Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it.

Alc. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap

Tim. Warr'ft thou 'gainst Athens?

Alc. Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim. The Gods confound them all then in thy conqueft,

And after, Thee, when thou haft conquered!

Alc. 9 'But why me, Timon?

Tim. That by 'killing villains

2.

Thou waft born to make conqueft of my country.
Put up thy gold. Go on, here's gold, go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove

Will o'er fome high-vic'd city hang his poifon
In the fick air: Let not thy fword skip one;
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He is an ufurer. Strike me the matron,
It is her habit only that is honest,

Her felf's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek

Make foft thy trenchant fword; for thofe milk-paps
That through the 'window-lawn` bore at mens eyes,

3

D 4

Are

Are not within the leaf of pity writ,

4

Set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe
Whofe dimpled fmiles from fools + extort their mercy
Think it a baftard, 'who, the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd, thy throat fhall cut,
And mince it fans remorfe. Swear" "gainst all` objects,
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;

Whofe proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor fight of pricfts in holy veftments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy foldiers.
Make large confufion; and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thy felf! Speak not, be gone.

Alc. Haft thou gold yet?

I'll take the gold thou giv'ft me, not thy counfel. [thee!
Tim. Doft thou, or doft thou not, heav'n's curfe upon
Both. Give us fome gold, good Timon: haft thou more?
Tim. Enough to make a whore forfwear her trade,
And to make 'whores abundant. Hold up, you fluts,
Your aprons mountant; you're not oathable,
Although I know you'll fwear, terribly swear
Into ftrong fhudders and to heavenly agues

Th' immortal Gods that hear you. Spare your oaths:
I'll truft to your conditions, be whores ftill.
And he whofe pious breath feeks to convert you,
Be ftrong in whore, allure him, burn him up:
Let your close fire predominate his fmoak,

8

And be no turn-coats: yet may your pains 'exterior`
Be quite contrary; make false hair, and thatch
Your poor thin roofs with burthens of the dead,
Some that were hang'd, no matter :

Wear them, betray with them; and whore on ftill.
Paint 'till a horfe may mire upon your face;

A pox of wrinkles!

Both. Well, more gold

what then?

Believe that we'll do any thing for gold.

Tim. Confumptions fow

In hollow bones of man, ftrike their fharp fhins,

And

4 exhauft 5 whom 6 against 7 whole a bawd or whore a bawd 8 fix months

And mar mens 'fparring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more falfe title plead,
Nor found his quillets fhrilly. Hoar the Flamen,
That fcolds against the quality of flesh,

And not believes himself. Down with the nofe,
Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee

Smells from the gen'ral weal. Make curl'd-pate'ruffians
Quite bald, and let the unfcarr'd braggarts of

The war derive fome pain from you. Plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell

The fource of all erection.

There's more gold.
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

Both. More counsel with more mony, bounteous Timon.
Tim. More whore, more mischief firft; I've given you
earneft.

Alc. Strike up the drum tow'rds Athens ; farewel, Timon: If I thrive well, I'll vifit thee again.

Tim. If I hope well, I'll never fee thee more.

Alc. I never did thee harm.

Tim. Yes, thou fpok'ft well of me.

Alc. Call'st thou that harm?

Tim. Men daily find it.

Get thee hence away,

Alc. We but offend him: ftrike.

And take thy beagles with thee.

[Exeunt Alcib. Phrynia and Timandra.

SCENE.

V.

Tim. That Nature being fick of man's unkindness Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou Whose womb unmeafurable, and infinite breast Teems, and feeds all: oh thou! whofe felf-fame mettle Whereof thy proud child arrogant man is puft, Engenders the black toad and adder blue, The gilded newt, and eyelefs venom'd worm ; With all th' abhorred births below crifp heav'n Whereon Hyperion's quickning fire doth fhine

9 fcurring.

1 ruffians bald,

Yield