Flav. O, let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.

Tim. If thou hatest

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 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 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.

Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee.

Poet. Nay, let's seek him:

Then do we sin against our own estate,

When we may profit meet, and come too late.

*The doing that we said we would do.

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.

Poet. Hail, worthy Timon!

Pain. Our late noble master.

Tim. Have I once lived to see two honest men ?
Poet. Sir,

Having often of your open bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retired, your friends fallen 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 wrap't, 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.

[Advancing.

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; I am sure you have: speak truth: you are honest men.

Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore

Came not my friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest men !-Thou draw'st a counterfeit*
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-natured 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.

* Portrait.

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 assured,

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 wouldst 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 framed 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!

Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians,

* Roguery.

VOL. IV.

Lord Timon! Timon!

By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:
Speak to them, noble Timon.

Enter TIMON.

Tim. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!-Speak, and be hang'd: For each true word, a blister! and each false

Be as a caut'rizing to the root o' the tongue,

Consuming it with speaking!

1 Sen. Worthy Timon

Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague, Could I but catch it for them.

1 Sen. O, forget

What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.

The senators, with one consent* of love

Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought

On special dignities, which vacant lie

For thy best use and wearing,

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 sorrow'd 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;

Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.

2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens.

1 Sen. Therefore, Timon,

Tim. Well, Sir, I will; therefore, I will, Sir; Thus,—

If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by the beards,

* One united voice.

† Confession.

Licensed.

Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;

Then, let him know,-and tell him, Timon speaks it,
In pity of our aged, and our youth,

I cannot choose but tell him, that-I care not,

And let him tak't at worst; for their knives care not,
While you have throats to answer for myself,
There's not a whittle* in the unruly camp,

But I do prize it at my love, before

The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous gods,†
As thieves to keepers.

Flav. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph,

It will be seen to-morrow: My long sickness
Of health, and living, now begins to mend,

And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,

And last so long enough!

1 Sen. We speak in vain.

Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck,

As common bruit doth put it.

1 Sen. That's well spoke.

Tim. Commend me to my loving countrymen,

1 Sen. These words become your lips as they pass through them.

2 Sen. And enter in our ears like great triúmphers

In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them;

And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain

In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.

Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it; Tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,§
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,

Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,

And hang himself:-I pray you, do my greeting,

Flav. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall find him. Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens,

Timon hath made his everlasting mansion

Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;

* Knife.

† I. e. the gods, who are the authors of the prosperity of mankind. 1.e. my long disease, life, is

everything to me.

about to end, and nothingness will be From highest to lowest.