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 wouldst 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 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.

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. Tim. 'Would thou wert clean enough to spit

|

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 touch of hearts! 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. Throng'd to?
Apem. Ay.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee.
Apem. Live, and love thy misery!

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 falling-from 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 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.

thee.

Flav. An honest poor servant of yours. Tim. Then

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 villainy, 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 sca's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture 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 over my trade.

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

be true.

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 rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'd 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?

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. 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.
Thy face. Surely, this man was born of woman.--
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

Suspect still comes, where an estate is least.
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:

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, while thou'rt blest 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 show honestly 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

Poet. Nay, let's seek him:

Then do we sin against our own estate,
When we may profit meet, and come too late.
Pain. True;

When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
Than where swine feed!

'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the 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.

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon!
Pain. Our late noble master.

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 requite 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;

thee.

nest men.

Came not my friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest men:-Thou draw'st a

counterfeit

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

1 Sen. Bring us to his cave:

Pain. 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.

Tim. You'll take it ill.
Both. Most thankfully, my lord.
Tim. 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.

Both. Do we, my lord?

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,

Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep in your bosom: yet remain assur'd,
That he's a made-up villain.

Pain. I know none such, my lord.
Poet. Nor I.

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,

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 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 ;

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,
The former man may make him: Bring us to
him,

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.

2 Sen. They confess

Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:
Which now the public body,-which doth seldom
Play the recanter,-feeling in itself,

A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And send forth us, to make their sorrowed render,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it;
Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.
1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return

with us,

And of our Athens (thine, and ours,) to take The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name Live with authority:-so soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades the approaches wild;