The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the sick air: Let not thy sword skip one:
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He's 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 milkpaps,

That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, Are not within the leaf of pity writ,

Set them down horrible traitors: Spare not the babe, Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their

mercy;

Think it a bastard,2 whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse:3 Swear against objects;4

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.
Alcib. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold
thou giv'st me,

Not all thy counsel.

The source of all erection.-There's more gold :Do you damn others, and let this damn you, And ditches grave you all!

Phr. & Timan. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

Tim. More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

Alcib: Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon:

If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more, Alcib. I never did thee harm.

Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.

Alcib. Call'st thou that harm? Tim. Men daily find it such. Get thee away, And take thy beagles with thee. Alcib. Strike.

We but offend him.

[Drum beats. Exeunt Alcibiades, Phrynia, and Timandra.

Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkind-
ness,

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 puff'd,

Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,

upon thee!

Phr. & 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,
Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable,-
Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear,
Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues,
The immortal gods that hear you,-spare your
oaths,

I'll trust to your conditions:5 Be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turn-coats: Yet may your pains, six
months,

Be quite contrary: And thatch your poor thin roofs
With burdens 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 pox of wrinkles!

Phr. & Timan. Well, more gold;-What then?Believ't, that we'll 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 quillets6 shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That 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 gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm,9
With all the abhorred births below crispl0 heaven
Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Ga great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented !-O, 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!

Apem. 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!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
From change of fortune. Why this spade? this
place?

This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseas'd perfumes,11 and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.12
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'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus ;
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid wel

come,

To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just, That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,

(8) Boundless surface.

(9) The serpent called the blind-worm. (10) Bent.

(11) i. e. Their diseased perfumed mistresses. (12) i. e. Shame not these woods by finding fault,

Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. 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 outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
Tocure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,

Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee;
O! thou shalt find-

Tim.

A fool of thee: Depart. Apem. I love thee better now than e'er I did. Tim. I hate thee worse.

Apem.

Why?

Tim.
Thou flatter'st misery.
Apem. I flatter not; but say, thou art a caitiff.
Tim. Why dost thou seek me out?
Apem.

To vex thee.
Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Dost please thyself in't?

Apem.

Tim.

Ay.

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 :1
The one is filling still, never complete ;
The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.

Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.
Tim. Not by his breath,2 that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath,3
ceeded

If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.
Apem.
Art thou proud yet?

Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.

Apem.
No prodigal.

I, that I was

I, that I am one now;

Tim.
Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.—
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it.
Apem.

[Eating a root. Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offering him something. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

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 li'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?

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

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;5 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.
Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, pro-thou should'st have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means?

The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou would'st have plunged thy-

self

In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect,4 but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of

men

At duty, more than I could frame employment;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows;-I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st thou
hate men?

They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse,-thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
To some she beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone!-

(1) i. e. Arrives sooner at the completion of its wishes.

(2) By his voice, sentence. (3) From infancy.

Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myself.

Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.

Apem. What things in the world canst thou 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 livedst but as a breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee,

(4) The cold admonitions of cautious prudence. (5) For too much finical delicacy.

Apem.
Tim. Long live so, and so die!-I am quit.-
[Exit Apemantus.

Live, and love thy misery!

them.

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 More things like men?—Eat, Timon, and abhor german to the hon, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors 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.

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 covet

Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that thouously reserve it, how shall's get it? 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 cap2 of all the fools alive.
Tim. 'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.
Apem. A plague on thee, thou art too bad to

Apem. Tim.

Beast!

Slave!

Toad!
Rogue, rogue, rogue
[Apemantus retreats backward, as going.
I am sick of this false world; and will love nought
But even the mere necessities upon it.
Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily make thine epitaph,
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

[Looking on the gold.
'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That solder'st close impossibilities,
And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every

tongue,

To every purpose! O thou touch3 of heart!
Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!
Apem.

'Would 'twere so;But not till I am dead!-I'll say, thou hast gold: Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim. Apem.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Throng'd to?

Ay.

2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

1 Thief. Is not this he?
Thieves. Where?

2 Thief. 'Tis his description.
3 Thief. He; I know him.
Thieves. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves.

Thieves. Soldiers, not thieves.
Tim. Both too; and women's sons.

Thieves. We are not thieves, but men that much

do want.

Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of

meat.

Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath

roots;

Within this mile break forth a hundred springs:
The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips;
The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?
i Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries,

water,

As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds,
and fishes;

You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con,
That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not
In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
In limited4 professions. Rascal thieves,
Here's gold: Go, suck the subtle blood of the grape,
Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
Do villany, do, since you profess to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery :
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun :
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a compostures stolen
From general excrement: each thing's a thief;
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves: away;
Rob one another. There's more gold: Cut throats;
All that you meet are thieves: To Athens, go,
Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it: Steal not less, for this
I give you, and gold confound you howsoever!
Amen.
[Timon retires to his cave.
3 Thief. He has almost charmed me from my
profession, by persuading me to it.

1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give | Suspect still comes where an estate is least. over my trade.

1 Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true. [Exeunt Thieves.

Enter Flavius.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yon despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
Full of decay and failing? O monument
And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of honour' has
Desperate want made!

What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
How rarely2 does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'd3 to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
He has caught me in his eye : I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
Still serve him with my life.-My dearest master!
Timon comes forward from his cave.
Tim. Away! what art thou?
Flav.

Have you forgot me, sir?
Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt man, I have forgot thee.
Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.
Tim.

I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
About me, I; all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.

Flav.

Then

The gods are witness,
Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you.
Tim. What, dost thou weep?-Come nearer ;-
then I love thee,

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give,
But thorough lust, and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with
weeping!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, To accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lasts, To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now So comfortable? It almost turns

My dangerous nature wild. Let me behold

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 ;4 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. Flav.

O, let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.
Tim.
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.

ACT V.

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 show honestly in us; and is very likely to load our purposes with

Thy face. Surely, this man was born of woman.-what they travel for, if it be a just and true report

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
Perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim

One honest man,-mistake me not,-but one;
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.

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 gifts,
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:

(1) An alteration of honour is an alteration of an honourable state to a state of disgrace. (2) How happily. (3) Recommended.

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 sayings is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will and 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.

(4) Away from human habitation.

(5) The doing of that we said we would do.

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,3

'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the Confound them by some course, and come to me,

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.

[Advancing. Our late noble master. Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men? Poet. Sir,

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon!
Pain.

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'ın 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

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'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 !

You are an alchymist, make gold of that :---
Out, rascal dogs!

[Exit, beating and driving them out. SCENE II.-The same. Enter Flavius, and two Senators.

Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; For he is set so only to himself,

That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.

1 Sen.
Bring us to his cave:
It is our part, and promise to the Athenians,
To speak with Timon.

2 Sen.
At all times alike
Men are not still the same: 'Twas time, and griefs,
That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
Offering the fortunes of his former days,

I am sure you have: speak truth: you are honestThe former man may make him: Bring us to him,

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

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 needs say, you have a little fault:
Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I,
You take much pains to mend.
Both.

To make it known to us.

Tim.

Beseech your honour, You'll take it ill.

Both. Most thankfully, my lord. Tim.

And chance it as it may.

Flav. Here is his cave.Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon.

Will you, indeed? What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
The senators, with one consent of love,

Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord.

(1) A portrait was so called. (2) A complete, a finished villain.

(3) In a jakes.

With one united voice of affection.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from ..., Volumen2