SCENE III.-The Woods.

Enter TIMON.

I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;

Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the With man's blood paint the ground, gules,

gules:

For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.
Alcib. I know thee well;

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.
Tim. I know thee too; and more, than that
know thee,

Religious canons, civil laws are cruel ;
Then what should war be? This fell whore of

thine

Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

Phr. Thy lips rot off!

Tim. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns To thine own lips again.

Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this
[give :
change?

Tim. As the moon does by wanting light to
But then renew I could not like the moon:
There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcib. Noble Timon,

What friendship may I do thee?
Tim. Noue, but to

Maintain my opinion.

Alcib. What is it, Timon?

Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform
none: If

Thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee : for
Thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound
thee,
For thou'rt a man!

Alcib. I have heard in some sort of thy mis-
eries.

Tim. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

Alcib. 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

Voic'd so regardfully?

Tim. Art thou Timandra?

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, 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 war-I like manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. Alcib. What art thou there?

Speak.

Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker knaw
thy heart,

For showing me again the eyes of mau !
Alcib. What is thy name? Is man so hateful
to thee,
That art thyself a man?
Tim. I am misanthropos, and hate mankind.

I. e. The moon's.
Gripe.
t Step or degree.
supplicant. I want not gold, but roots.
Restores to all the sweetness and freshness of her
youth.

No iusincere
Sorrowful.

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-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 a 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-
paps,

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,
[mercy;
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse. Swear against ob-
jects;

Pat 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,
Sball pierce à jot. There's gold to pay thy sol-

diers;

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.

Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, beaven's
curse upon thee !

Phr, & Timan. Give us some gold, good Ti-
mon: Hast thou more?

Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her
trade,
[sluts,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you
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. Be whores still;
And be 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 turncoats: Yet may your pains, six
months,
[roofs
Be quite contrary: And thatch your poor thin
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 bollow 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 T shrilly: hoar
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;

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.

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. & Timan. More counsel with more money,

bounteous Timon.

? Without pity.
Vocations.
the heart leprosy.

• Sharp.
Alluding to Jocasta, the wife of
Edipus, who murdered her incestuous offspring.
Against objects of compassion.
Subtilties.
Give him
tt Entomb.

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, We but offend him.-
Strike.

[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES. PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA. Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,

Should yet bé 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,

Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm, +
With all the abhorred births below crisp
heaven

This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
Hug their diseas'd 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'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise this most vicious strain,
And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus :
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid

the

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!
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!-Oh! 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?

welcome,

To knaves, and all approachers: "Tis most just,
That thou turn rascal; had'st thou wealth again,
Rascals should hav't. Do not assume my like-

ness.

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, candle thy morning taste,

• Boundless surface.
✰ Bent.
blind worm.
perfumed mistresses

+ The serpent called the Their diseased Finding fault.

144

To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the crea-
tures,-

Whose naked natures live in all the spite
whose bare unhoused
Of wreakful heaven;

trunks,

To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee.
Oh! 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. 1 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. Ay.

Tim. What! a knave too?

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 barm.
Apem. Where liest o'nights, Timon?
Tim. Under that's above me.

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 :
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, that is more mise-
rable.

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; in thy
rags thou knowest none, but are 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 had'st hated medlers sooner,
thou should'st have loved thyself better now.
What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that
was beloved after his means?

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
What would'st thou do
things themselves.
with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy
power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the

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,
proceeded

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

Apem. Art thou proud yet?

Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Apem. I, that I was

In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, § 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
bate 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 !—
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

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
for 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, 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 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 ?

No prodigal.

Tim. 1, that I am one now;

Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that
thou art out of the city?

Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee goue.-
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
[Eating a root.
Thus would I eat it.
Apem. Yonder comes a poet, and a painter:
Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast.
[Offering him something. The plague of company light upon thee! I will
Tim. First mend my company, take away thy-fear to catch it, and give way: When I know not
what else to do, I'll see thee again.
self.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee,
thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's
dog, than Apemantus.

Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack
of thine.

• Arrives sooner at the completion of its wishes.
From infancy.
By his sentence.
The cold admonitions of prudence.

Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
If not, I would it were.

Apem. What would'st thon have to Athens?

Apem. If thou could'st please me with speaking to me, thou migh'tst have hit upon it here: The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim. 'Would thou wert clean enough to spit | 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?

Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, As beasts, and birds, and fishes. [water, Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; [con, You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you That you are thieves profess'd; that you work

not

upon. Apem. A plague on thee, thou art too bad to

curse.

Tim. All villains, that do stand by thee, are pure.

Apem. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

Tim. If I name thee.

I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
Apem. I would my tongue could rot them off!
Tia. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler doth kill me that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

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!
[TIMON retires to his Cave.
3 Thief. He has almost charmed me from my
profession, by persuading me to it.

'Amen.

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 o'er 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.

When man was wish'd || to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
[do !
trea-Those that would mischief me, than those that
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!

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 bestowed!
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,

I know thee not: I ne'er bad honest man
About me, 1: all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.
Flav. The gods are witness,

• Legal.
+ Manure.
t1. e. From an honourable state to one of disgrace.
How happily.
Recommendnd.
U

Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold?

146

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,

Pain. Certain : Alcibiades reports it; Phrynla and Timandra had gold of him: he likewise Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st enriched poor straggling soldiers with great Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give, 'Tis said, he gave unto his steward a But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleep-quantity: 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?

ing:

Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,

[lasts,

To accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth
To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and
[now
So comfortable? It almost turus
My dangerous nature wild. Let me behold
Thy face. Surely, this man was born of wo-

man.

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

[wise,

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
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?

Flau. No, my most worthy master, in whose

breast

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.

Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late:
You should have fear'd false times, when you
did feast:

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 Wilt thou whip thine own thine own work? faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee.

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

When the day serves, before black-corner'd
night,

For this one wish, That you had power and Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come.

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 [men;

happy:

But thus condition'd; Thou shall build from
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.

Flar. O let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.
Tim. If thou hat'st

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;

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.

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 !
[Advancing.
'Fit I do meet them.

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.

• The doing of what we have said we would do.