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Title: Timon of Athens

Author: William Shakespeare

Release date: July 1, 2000 [eBook #2262]
                Most recently updated: May 23, 2019

Language: English



*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TIMON OF ATHENS ***





Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's The Life of Timon
of Athens



Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
are presented herein:

  Barnardo. Who's there?
  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
your selfe

   Bar. Long liue the King

***

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,
here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The Life of
Timon of Athens.

Michael S. Hart
Project Gutenberg
Executive Director


***


Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
abbreviations as I have come across them.  Everything within
brackets [] is what I have added.  So if you don't like that
you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
differences between various copies of the first folio.  So there may
be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
this and other first folio editions.  This is due to the printer's
habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
continuing the printing run.  The proof run wasn't thrown away but
incorporated into the printed copies.  This is just the way it is.
The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
First Folio editions' best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel
free to email me those errors.  I wish to make this the best
etext possible.  My email address for right now are haradda@aol.com
and davidr@inconnect.com.  I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed
The Life of Timon of Athens

Enter Poet, Painter, Ieweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at seuerall
doores.

  Poet. Good day Sir

   Pain. I am glad y'are well

   Poet. I haue not seene you long, how goes
the World?
  Pain. It weares sir, as it growes

   Poet. I that's well knowne:
But what particular Rarity? What strange,
Which manifold record not matches: see
Magicke of Bounty, all these spirits thy power
Hath coniur'd to attend.
I know the Merchant

   Pain. I know them both: th' others a Ieweller

   Mer. O 'tis a worthy Lord

   Iew. Nay that's most fixt

   Mer. A most incomparable man, breath'd as it were,
To an vntyreable and continuate goodnesse:
He passes

   Iew. I haue a Iewell heere

   Mer. O pray let's see't. For the Lord Timon, sir?
  Iewel. If he will touch the estimate. But for that-
  Poet. When we for recompence haue prais'd the vild,
It staines the glory in that happy Verse,
Which aptly sings the good

   Mer. 'Tis a good forme

   Iewel. And rich: heere is a Water looke ye

   Pain. You are rapt sir, in some worke, some Dedication
to the great Lord

   Poet. A thing slipt idlely from me.
Our Poesie is as a Gowne, which vses
From whence 'tis nourisht: the fire i'th' Flint
Shewes not, till it be strooke: our gentle flame
Prouokes it selfe, and like the currant flyes
Each bound it chases. What haue you there?
  Pain. A Picture sir: when comes your Booke forth?
  Poet. Vpon the heeles of my presentment sir.
Let's see your peece

   Pain. 'Tis a good Peece

   Poet. So 'tis, this comes off well, and excellent

   Pain. Indifferent

   Poet. Admirable: How this grace
Speakes his owne standing: what a mentall power
This eye shootes forth? How bigge imagination
Moues in this Lip, to th' dumbnesse of the gesture,
One might interpret

   Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life:
Heere is a touch: Is't good?
  Poet. I will say of it,
It Tutors Nature, Artificiall strife
Liues in these toutches, liuelier then life.
Enter certaine Senators.

  Pain. How this Lord is followed

   Poet. The Senators of Athens, happy men

   Pain. Looke moe

   Po. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors,
I haue in this rough worke, shap'd out a man
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge
With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moues it selfe
In a wide Sea of wax, no leuell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an Eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leauing no Tract behinde

   Pain. How shall I vnderstand you?
  Poet. I will vnboult to you.
You see how all Conditions, how all Mindes,
As well of glib and slipp'ry Creatures, as
Of Graue and austere qualitie, tender downe
Their seruices to Lord Timon: his large Fortune,
Vpon his good and gracious Nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his loue and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glasse-fac'd Flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loues better
Then to abhorre himselfe; euen hee drops downe
The knee before him, and returnes in peace
Most rich in Timons nod

   Pain. I saw them speake together

   Poet. Sir, I haue vpon a high and pleasant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd.
The Base o'th' Mount
Is rank'd with all deserts, all kinde of Natures
That labour on the bosome of this Sphere,
To propagate their states; among'st them all,
Whose eyes are on this Soueraigne Lady fixt,
One do I personate of Lord Timons frame,
Whom Fortune with her Iuory hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace, to present slaues and seruants
Translates his Riuals

   Pain. 'Tis conceyu'd, to scope
This Throne, this Fortune, and this Hill me thinkes
With one man becken'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the sleepy Mount
To climbe his happinesse, would be well exprest
In our Condition

   Poet. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
All those which were his Fellowes but of late,
Some better then his valew; on the moment
Follow his strides, his Lobbies fill with tendance,
Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare,
Make Sacred euen his styrrop, and through him
Drinke the free Ayre

   Pain. I marry, what of these?
  Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
Spurnes downe her late beloued; all his Dependants
Which labour'd after him to the Mountaines top,
Euen on their knees and hand, let him sit downe,
Not one accompanying his declining foot

   Pain. Tis common:
A thousand morall Paintings I can shew,
That shall demonstrate these quicke blowes of Fortunes,
More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well,
To shew Lord Timon, that meane eyes haue seene
The foot aboue the head.
Trumpets sound.

Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously to euery Sutor.

  Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?
  Mes. I my good Lord, fiue Talents is his debt,
His meanes most short, his Creditors most straite:
Your Honourable Letter he desires
To those haue shut him vp, which failing,
Periods his comfort

   Tim. Noble Ventidius, well:
I am not of that Feather, to shake off
My Friend when he must neede me. I do know him
A Gentleman, that well deserues a helpe,
Which he shall haue. Ile pay the debt, and free him

   Mes. Your Lordship euer bindes him

   Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransome,
And being enfranchized bid him come to me;
'Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble vp,
But to support him after. Fare you well

   Mes. All happinesse to your Honor.
Enter.

Enter an old Athenian.

  Oldm. Lord Timon, heare me speake

   Tim. Freely good Father

   Oldm. Thou hast a Seruant nam'd Lucilius

   Tim. I haue so: What of him?
  Oldm. Most Noble Timon, call the man before thee

   Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucillius

   Luc. Heere at your Lordships seruice

   Oldm. This Fellow heere, L[ord]. Timon, this thy Creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first haue beene inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserues an Heyre more rais'd,
Then one which holds a Trencher

   Tim. Well: what further?
  Old. One onely Daughter haue I, no Kin else,
On whom I may conferre what I haue got:
The Maid is faire, a'th' youngest for a Bride,
And I haue bred her at my deerest cost
In Qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her loue: I prythee (Noble Lord)
Ioyne with me to forbid him her resort,
My selfe haue spoke in vaine

   Tim. The man is honest

   Oldm. Therefore he will be Timon,
His honesty rewards him in it selfe,
It must not beare my Daughter

   Tim. Does she loue him?
  Oldm. She is yong and apt:
Our owne precedent passions do instruct vs
What leuities in youth

   Tim. Loue you the Maid?
  Luc. I my good Lord, and she accepts of it

   Oldm. If in her Marriage my consent be missing,
I call the Gods to witnesse, I will choose
Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world,
And dispossesse her all

   Tim. How shall she be endowed,
If she be mated with an equall Husband?
  Oldm. Three Talents on the present; in future, all

   Tim. This Gentleman of mine
Hath seru'd me long:
To build his Fortune, I will straine a little,
For 'tis a Bond in men. Giue him thy Daughter,
What you bestow, in him Ile counterpoize,
And make him weigh with her

   Oldm. Most Noble Lord,
Pawne me to this your Honour, she is his

   Tim. My hand to thee,
Mine Honour on my promise

   Luc. Humbly I thanke your Lordship, neuer may
That state or Fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you.

Exit

  Poet. Vouchsafe my Labour,
And long liue your Lordship

   Tim. I thanke you, you shall heare from me anon:
Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend?
  Pain. A peece of Painting, which I do beseech
Your Lordship to accept

   Tim. Painting is welcome.
The Painting is almost the Naturall man:
For since Dishonor Traffickes with mans Nature,
He is but out-side: These Pensil'd Figures are
Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke,
And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance
Till you heare further from me

   Pain. The Gods preserue ye

   Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand.
We must needs dine together: sir your Iewell
Hath suffered vnder praise

   Iewel. What my Lord, dispraise?
  Tim. A meere saciety of Commendations,
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extold,
It would vnclew me quite

   Iewel. My Lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would giue: but you well know,
Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu't deere Lord,
You mend the Iewell by the wearing it

   Tim. Well mock'd.
Enter Apermantus.

  Mer. No my good Lord, he speakes y common toong
Which all men speake with him

   Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid?
  Iewel. Wee'l beare with your Lordship

   Mer. Hee'l spare none

   Tim. Good morrow to thee,
Gentle Apermantus

   Ape. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow.
When thou art Timons dogge, and these Knaues honest

   Tim. Why dost thou call them Knaues, thou know'st
them not?
  Ape. Are they not Athenians?
  Tim. Yes

   Ape. Then I repent not

   Iew. You know me, Apemantus?
  Ape. Thou know'st I do, I call'd thee by thy name

   Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus?
  Ape. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon
  Tim. Whether art going?
  Ape. To knocke out an honest Athenians braines

   Tim. That's a deed thou't dye for

   Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' Law

   Tim. How lik'st thou this picture Apemantus?
  Ape. The best, for the innocence

   Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it

   Ape. He wrought better that made the Painter, and
yet he's but a filthy peece of worke

   Pain. Y'are a Dogge

   Ape. Thy Mothers of my generation: what's she, if I
be a Dogge?
  Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus?
  Ape. No: I eate not Lords

   Tim. And thou should'st, thoud'st anger Ladies

   Ape. O they eate Lords;
So they come by great bellies

   Tim. That's a lasciuious apprehension

   Ape. So, thou apprehend'st it,
Take it for thy labour

   Tim. How dost thou like this Iewell, Apemantus?
  Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which wil not cast
a man a Doit

   Tim. What dost thou thinke 'tis worth?
  Ape. Not worth my thinking.
How now Poet?
  Poet. How now Philosopher?
  Ape. Thou lyest

   Poet. Art not one?
  Ape. Yes

   Poet. Then I lye not

   Ape. Art not a Poet?
  Poet. Yes

   Ape. Then thou lyest:
Looke in thy last worke, where thou hast feign'd him a
worthy Fellow

   Poet. That's not feign'd, he is so

   Ape. Yes he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
labour. He that loues to be flattered, is worthy o'th flatterer.
Heauens, that I were a Lord

   Tim. What wouldst do then Apemantus?
  Ape. E'ne as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with
my heart

   Tim. What thy selfe?
  Ape. I

   Tim. Wherefore?
  Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.
Art not thou a Merchant?
  Mer. I Apemantus

   Ape. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not

   Mer. If Trafficke do it, the Gods do it

   Ape. Traffickes thy God, & thy God confound thee.

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.

  Tim. What Trumpets that?
  Mes. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty Horse
All of Companionship

   Tim. Pray entertaine them, giue them guide to vs.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I haue thankt you: when dinners done
Shew me this peece, I am ioyfull of your sights.
Enter Alcibiades with the rest.

Most welcome Sir

   Ape. So, so; their Aches contract, and sterue your
supple ioynts: that there should bee small loue amongest
these sweet Knaues, and all this Curtesie. The straine of
mans bred out into Baboon and Monkey

   Alc. Sir, you haue sau'd my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight

   Tim. Right welcome Sir:
Ere we depart, wee'l share a bounteous time
In different pleasures.
Pray you let vs in.

Exeunt.

Enter two Lords.

  1.Lord What time a day is't Apemantus?
  Ape. Time to be honest

   1 That time serues still

   Ape. The most accursed thou that still omitst it

   2 Thou art going to Lord Timons Feast

   Ape. I, to see meate fill Knaues, and Wine heat fooles

   2 Farthee well, farthee well

   Ape. Thou art a Foole to bid me farewell twice

   2 Why Apemantus?
  Ape. Should'st haue kept one to thy selfe, for I meane
to giue thee none

   1 Hang thy selfe

   Ape. No I will do nothing at thy bidding:
Make thy requests to thy Friend

   2 Away vnpeaceable Dogge,
Or Ile spurne thee hence

   Ape. I will flye like a dogge, the heeles a'th' Asse

   1 Hee's opposite to humanity.
Come shall we in,
And taste Lord Timons bountie: he out-goes
The verie heart of kindnesse

   2 He powres it out: Plutus the God of Gold
Is but his Steward: no meede but he repayes
Seuen-fold aboue it selfe: No guift to him,
But breeds the giuer a returne: exceeding
All vse of quittance

   1 The Noblest minde he carries,
That euer gouern'd man

   2 Long may he liue in Fortunes. Shall we in?
Ile keepe you Company.

Exeunt.

Hoboyes Playing lowd Musicke. A great Banquet seru'd in: and
then, Enter
Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which
Timon redeem'd
from prison. Then comes dropping after all Apemantus
discontentedly like
himselfe.

  Ventig. Most honoured Timon,
It hath pleas'd the Gods to remember my Fathers age,
And call him to long peace:
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound
To your free heart, I do returne those Talents
Doubled with thankes and seruice, from whose helpe
I deriu'd libertie

   Tim. O by no meanes,
Honest Ventigius: You mistake my loue,
I gaue it freely euer, and ther's none
Can truely say he giues, if he receiues:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire

   Vint. A Noble spirit

   Tim. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but deuis'd at first
To set a glosse on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodnesse, sorry ere 'tis showne:
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,
Then my Fortunes to me

   1.Lord. My Lord, we alwaies haue confest it

   Aper. Ho ho, confest it? Handg'd it? Haue you not?
  Timo. O Apermantus, you are welcome

   Aper. No: You shall not make me welcome:
I come to haue thee thrust me out of doores

   Tim. Fie, th'art a churle, ye'haue got a humour there
Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame:
They say my Lords, Ira furor breuis est,
But yond man is verie angrie.
Go, let him haue a Table by himselfe:
For he does neither affect companie,
Nor is he fit for't indeed

   Aper. Let me stay at thine apperill Timon,
I come to obserue, I giue thee warning on't

   Tim. I take no heede of thee: Th'art an Athenian,
therefore welcome: I my selfe would haue no power,
prythee let my meate make thee silent

   Aper. I scorne thy meate, 'twould choake me: for I
should nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number
of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not? It greeues me
to see so many dip there meate in one mans blood, and
all the madnesse is, he cheeres them vp too.
I wonder men dare trust themselues with men.
Me thinks they should enuite them without kniues,
Good for there meate, and safer for their liues.
There's much example for't, the fellow that sits next him,
now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in
a diuided draught: is the readiest man to kill him. 'Tas
beene proued, if I were a huge man I should feare to
drinke at meales, least they should spie my wind-pipes
dangerous noates, great men should drinke with harnesse
on their throates

   Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round

   2.Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord

   Aper. Flow this way? A braue fellow. He keepes his
tides well, those healths will make thee and thy state
looke ill, Timon.
Heere's that which is too weake to be a sinner,
Honest water, which nere left man i'th' mire:
This and my food are equals, there's no ods,
Feasts are to proud to giue thanks to the Gods.

Apermantus Grace.

Immortall Gods, I craue no pelfe,
I pray for no man but my selfe,
Graunt I may neuer proue so fond,
To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
Or a Harlot for her weeping,
Or a Dogge that seemes asleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedome,
Or my friends if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall too't:
Richmen sin, and I eat root.
Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus
  Tim. Captaine,
Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now

   Alci. My heart is euer at your seruice, my Lord

   Tim. You had rather be at a breakefast of Enemies,
then a dinner of Friends

   Alc. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there's no
meat like 'em, I could wish my best friend at such a Feast

   Aper. Would all those Flatterers were thine Enemies
then, that then thou might'st kill 'em: & bid me to 'em

   1.Lord. Might we but haue that happinesse my Lord,
that you would once vse our hearts, whereby we might
expresse some part of our zeales, we should thinke our
selues for euer perfect

   Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods
themselues haue prouided that I shall haue much helpe
from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why
haue you that charitable title from thousands? Did not
you chiefely belong to my heart? I haue told more of
you to my selfe, then you can with modestie speake in
your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh
you Gods (thinke I,) what need we haue any Friends; if
we should nere haue need of 'em? They were the most
needlesse Creatures liuing; should we nere haue vse for
'em? And would most resemble sweete Instruments
hung vp in Cases, that keepes there sounds to themselues.
Why I haue often wisht my selfe poorer, that
I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do benefits.
And what better or properer can we call our owne,
then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a pretious comfort
'tis, to haue so many like Brothers commanding
one anothers Fortunes. Oh ioyes, e'ne made away er't
can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks
to forget their Faults. I drinke to you

   Aper. Thou weep'st to make them drinke, Timon

   2.Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eies,
And at that instant, like a babe sprung vp

   Aper. Ho, ho: I laugh to thinke that babe a bastard

   3.Lord. I promise you my Lord you mou'd me much

   Aper. Much.

Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with Lutes in their
hands,
dauncing and playing.

  Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now?
Enter Seruant.

  Ser. Please you my Lord, there are certaine Ladies
Most desirous of admittance

   Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?
  Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
which beares that office, to signifie their pleasures

   Tim. I pray let them be admitted.
Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.

  Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
his Bounties taste: the fiue best Sences acknowledge thee
their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious
bosome.
There tast, touch all, pleas'd from thy Table rise:
They onely now come but to Feast thine eies

   Timo. They'r welcome all, let 'em haue kind admittance.
Musicke make their welcome

   Luc. You see my Lord, how ample y'are belou'd

   Aper. Hoyday,
What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way.
They daunce? They are madwomen,
Like Madnesse is the glory of this life,
As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote.
We make our selues Fooles, to disport our selues,
And spend our Flatteries, to drinke those men,
Vpon whose Age we voyde it vp agen
With poysonous Spight and Enuy.
Who liues, that's not depraued, or depraues;
Who dyes, that beares not one spurne to their graues
Of their Friends guift:
I should feare, those that dance before me now,
Would one day stampe vpon me: 'Tas bene done,
Men shut their doores against a setting Sunne.

The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and to
shew their
loues, each single out an Amazon, and all Dance, men with
women, a loftie
straine or two to the Hoboyes, and cease.

  Tim. You haue done our pleasures
Much grace (faire Ladies)
Set a faire fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not halfe so beautifull, and kinde:
You haue added worth vntoo't, and luster,
And entertain'd me with mine owne deuice.
I am to thanke you for't

   1 Lord. My Lord you take vs euen at the best

   Aper. Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold
taking, I doubt me

   Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
Please you to dispose your selues

   All La. Most thankfully, my Lord.

Exeunt.

  Tim. Flauius

   Fla. My Lord

   Tim. The little Casket bring me hither

   Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Iewels yet?
There is no crossing him in's humor,
Else I should tell him well, yfaith I should;
When all's spent, hee'ld be crost then, and he could:
'Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,
That man might ne're be wretched for his minde.
Enter.

  1 Lord. Where be our men?
  Ser. Heere my Lord, in readinesse

   2 Lord. Our Horses

   Tim. O my Friends:
I haue one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L[ord].
I must intreat you honour me so much,
As to aduance this Iewell, accept it, and weare it,
Kinde my Lord

   1 Lord. I am so farre already in your guifts

   All. So are we all.
Enter a Seruant.

  Ser. My Lord, there are certaine Nobles of the Senate
newly alighted, and come to visit you

   Tim. They are fairely welcome.
Enter Flauius.

  Fla. I beseech your Honor, vouchsafe me a word, it
does concerne you neere

   Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee.
I prythee let's be prouided to shew them entertainment

   Fla. I scarse know how.
Enter another Seruant.

  Ser. May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius
(Out of his free loue) hath presented to you
Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Siluer

   Tim. I shall accept them fairely: let the Presents
Be worthily entertain'd.
Enter a third Seruant.

How now? What newes?
  3.Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentleman
Lord Lucullus, entreats your companie to morrow,
to hunt with him, and ha's sent your Honour two brace
of Grey-hounds

   Tim. Ile hunt with him,
And let them be receiu'd, not without faire Reward

   Fla. What will this come to?
He commands vs to prouide, and giue great guifts, and
all out of an empty Coffer:
Nor will he know his Purse, or yeeld me this,
To shew him what a Begger his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good.
His promises flye so beyond his state,
That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for eu'ry word:
He is so kinde, that he now payes interest for't;
His Land's put to their Bookes. Well, would I were
Gently put out of Office, before I were forc'd out:
Happier is he that has no friend to feede,
Then such that do e'ne Enemies exceede.
I bleed inwardly for my Lord.

Exit

  Tim. You do your selues much wrong,
You bate too much of your owne merits.
Heere my Lord, a trifle of our Loue

   2.Lord. With more then common thankes
I will receyue it

   3.Lord. O he's the very soule of Bounty

   Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gaue good
words the other day of a Bay Courser I rod on. Tis yours
because you lik'd it

   1.L. Oh, I beseech you pardon mee, my Lord, in that

   Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no
man can iustly praise, but what he does affect. I weighe
my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true,
Ile call to you

   All Lor. O none so welcome

   Tim. I take all, and your seuerall visitations
So kinde to heart, 'tis not enough to giue:
Me thinkes, I could deale Kingdomes to my Friends,
And nere be wearie. Alcibiades,
Thou art a Soldiour, therefore sildome rich,
It comes in Charitie to thee: for all thy liuing
Is mong'st the dead: and all the Lands thou hast
Lye in a pitcht field

   Alc. I, defil'd Land, my Lord

   1.Lord. We are so vertuously bound

   Tim. And so am I to you

   2.Lord. So infinitely endeer'd

   Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights

   1.Lord. The best of Happines, Honor, and Fortunes
Keepe with you Lord Timon

   Tim. Ready for his Friends.

Exeunt. Lords

  Aper. What a coiles heere, seruing of beckes, and iutting
out of bummes. I doubt whether their Legges be
worth the summes that are giuen for 'em.
Friendships full of dregges,
Me thinkes false hearts, should neuer haue sound legges.
Thus honest Fooles lay out their wealth on Curtsies

   Tim. Now Apermantus (if thou wert not sullen)
I would be good to thee

   Aper. No, Ile nothing; for if I should be brib'd too,
there would be none left to raile vpon thee, and then thou
wouldst sinne the faster. Thou giu'st so long Timon (I
feare me) thou wilt giue away thy selfe in paper shortly.
What needs these Feasts, pompes, and Vaine-glories?
  Tim. Nay, and you begin to raile on Societie once, I
am sworne not to giue regard to you. Farewell, & come
with better Musicke.

Exit

  Aper. So: Thou wilt not heare mee now, thou shalt
not then. Ile locke thy heauen from thee:
Oh that mens eares should be
To Counsell deafe, but not to Flatterie.

Exit

Enter a Senator.

  Sen. And late fiue thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand, besides my former summe,
Which makes it fiue and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not.
If I want Gold, steale but a beggers Dogge,
And giue it Timon, why the Dogge coines Gold.
If I would sell my Horse, and buy twenty moe
Better then he; why giue my Horse to Timon.
Aske nothing, giue it him, it Foles me straight
And able Horses: No Porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles, and still inuites
All that passe by. It cannot hold, no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis hoa,
Caphis I say.
Enter Caphis.

  Ca. Heere sir, what is your pleasure

   Sen. Get on your cloake, & hast you to Lord Timon,
Importune him for my Moneyes, be not ceast
With slight deniall; nor then silenc'd, when
Commend me to your Master, and the Cap
Playes in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
My Vses cry to me; I must serue my turne
Out of mine owne, his dayes and times are past,
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Haue smit my credit. I loue, and honour him,
But must not breake my backe, to heale his finger.
Immediate are my needs, and my releefe
Must not be tost and turn'd to me in words,
But finde supply immediate. Get you gone,
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand: for I do feare
When euery Feather stickes in his owne wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a Phoenix, get you gone

   Ca. I go sir

   Sen. I go sir?
Take the Bonds along with you,
And haue the dates in. Come

   Ca. I will Sir

   Sen. Go.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, with many billes in his hand.

  Stew. No care, no stop, so senselesse of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintaine it,
Nor cease his flow of Riot. Takes no accompt
How things go from him, nor resume no care
Of what is to continue: neuer minde,
Was to be so vnwise, to be so kinde.
What shall be done, he will not heare, till feele:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fye, fie, fie, fie.
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.

  Cap. Good euen Varro: what, you come for money?
  Var. Is't not your businesse too?
  Cap. It is, and yours too, Isidore?
  Isid. It is so

   Cap. Would we were all discharg'd

   Var. I feare it,
  Cap. Heere comes the Lord.
Enter Timon, and his Traine

   Tim. So soone as dinners done, wee'l forth againe
My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will?
  Cap. My Lord, heere is a note of certaine dues

   Tim. Dues? whence are you?
  Cap. Of Athens heere, my Lord

   Tim. Go to my Steward

   Cap. Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new dayes this moneth:
My Master is awak'd by great Occasion,
To call vpon his owne, and humbly prayes you,
That with your other Noble parts, you'l suite,
In giuing him his right

   Tim. Mine honest Friend,
I prythee but repaire to me next morning

   Cap. Nay, good my Lord

   Tim. Containe thy selfe, good Friend

   Var. One Varroes seruant, my good Lord

   Isid. From Isidore, he humbly prayes your speedy payment

   Cap. If you did know my Lord, my Masters wants

   Var. 'Twas due on forfeyture my Lord, sixe weekes,
and past

   Isi. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I
Am sent expressely to your Lordship

   Tim. Giue me breath:
I do beseech you good my Lords keepe on,
Ile waite vpon you instantly. Come hither: pray you
How goes the world, that I am thus encountred
With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds,
And the detention of long since due debts
Against my Honor?
  Stew. Please you Gentlemen,
The time is vnagreeable to this businesse:
Your importunacie cease, till after dinner,
That I may make his Lordship vnderstand
Wherefore you are not paid

   Tim. Do so my Friends, see them well entertain'd

   Stew. Pray draw neere.
Enter.

Enter Apemantus and Foole.

  Caph. Stay, stay, here comes the Foole with Apemantus,
let's ha some sport with 'em

   Var. Hang him, hee'l abuse vs

   Isid. A plague vpon him dogge

   Var. How dost Foole?
  Ape. Dost Dialogue with thy shadow?
  Var. I speake not to thee

   Ape. No 'tis to thy selfe. Come away

   Isi. There's the Foole hangs on your backe already

   Ape. No thou stand'st single, th'art not on him yet

   Cap. Where's the Foole now?
  Ape. He last ask'd the question. Poore Rogues, and
Vsurers men, Bauds betweene Gold and want

   Al. What are we Apemantus?
  Ape. Asses

   All. Why?
  Ape. That you ask me what you are, & do not know
your selues. Speake to 'em Foole

   Foole. How do you Gentlemen?
  All. Gramercies good Foole:
How does your Mistris?
  Foole. She's e'ne setting on water to scal'd such Chickens
as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth

   Ape. Good, Gramercy.
Enter Page.

  Foole. Looke you, heere comes my Masters Page

   Page. Why how now Captaine? what do you in this
wise Company.
How dost thou Apermantus?
  Ape. Would I had a Rod in my mouth, that I might
answer thee profitably

   Boy. Prythee Apemantus reade me the superscription
of these Letters, I know not which is which

   Ape. Canst not read?
  Page. No

   Ape. There will litle Learning dye then that day thou
art hang'd. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go
thou was't borne a Bastard, and thou't dye a Bawd

   Page. Thou was't whelpt a Dogge, and thou shalt
famish a Dogges death.
Answer not, I am gone.

Exit

  Ape. E'ne so thou out-runst Grace,
Foole I will go with you to Lord Timons

   Foole. Will you leaue me there?
  Ape. If Timon stay at home.
You three serue three Vsurers?
  All. I would they seru'd vs

   Ape. So would I:
As good a tricke as euer Hangman seru'd Theefe

   Foole. Are you three Vsurers men?
  All. I Foole

   Foole. I thinke no Vsurer, but ha's a Foole to his Seruant.
My Mistris is one, and I am her Foole: when men
come to borrow of your Masters, they approach sadly,
and go away merry: but they enter my Masters house
merrily, and go away sadly. The reason of this?
  Var. I could render one

   Ap. Do it then, that we may account thee a Whoremaster,
and a Knaue, which notwithstanding thou shalt
be no lesse esteemed

   Varro. What is a Whoremaster Foole?
  Foole. A Foole in good cloathes, and something like
thee. 'Tis a spirit, sometime t' appeares like a Lord, somtime
like a Lawyer, sometime like a Philosopher, with
two stones moe then's artificiall one. Hee is verie often
like a Knight; and generally, in all shapes that man goes
vp and downe in, from fourescore to thirteen, this spirit
walkes in

   Var. Thou art not altogether a Foole

   Foole. Nor thou altogether a Wise man,
As much foolerie as I haue, so much wit thou lack'st

   Ape. That answer might haue become Apemantus

   All. Aside, aside, heere comes Lord Timon.
Enter Timon and Steward.

  Ape. Come with me (Foole) come

   Foole. I do not alwayes follow Louer, elder Brother,
and Woman, sometime the Philosopher

   Stew. Pray you walke neere,
Ile speake with you anon.

Exeunt.

  Tim. You make me meruell wherefore ere this time
Had you not fully laide my state before me,
That I might so haue rated my expence
As I had leaue of meanes

   Stew. You would not heare me:
At many leysures I propose

   Tim. Go too:
Perchance some single vantages you tooke,
When my indisposition put you backe,
And that vnaptnesse made your minister
Thus to excuse your selfe

   Stew. O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my accompts,
Laid them before you, you would throw them off,
And say you sound them in mine honestie,
When for some trifling present you haue bid me
Returne so much, I haue shooke my head, and wept:
Yea 'gainst th' Authoritie of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close: I did indure
Not sildome, nor no slight checkes, when I haue
Prompted you in the ebbe of your estate,
And your great flow of debts; my lou'd Lord,
Though you heare now (too late) yet nowes a time,
The greatest of your hauing, lackes a halfe,
To pay your present debts

   Tim. Let all my Land be sold

   Stew. 'Tis all engag'd, some forfeyted and gone,
And what remaines will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues; the future comes apace:
What shall defend the interim, and at length
How goes our reck'ning?
  Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend

   Stew. O my good Lord, the world is but a word,
Were it all yours, to giue it in a breath,
How quickely were it gone

   Tim. You tell me true

   Stew. If you suspect my Husbandry or Falshood,
Call me before th' exactest Auditors,
And set me on the proofe. So the Gods blesse me,
When all our Offices haue beene opprest
With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults haue wept
With drunken spilth of Wine; when euery roome
Hath blaz'd with Lights, and braid with Minstrelsie,
I haue retyr'd me to a wastefull cocke,
And set mine eyes at flow

   Tim. Prythee no more

   Stew. Heauens, haue I said, the bounty of this Lord:
How many prodigall bits haue Slaues and Pezants
This night englutted: who is not Timons,
What heart, head, sword, force, meanes, but is L[ord]. Timons:
Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royall Timon:
Ah, when the meanes are gone, that buy this praise,
The breath is gone, whereof this praise is made:
Feast won, fast lost; one cloud of Winter showres,
These flyes are coucht

   Tim. Come sermon me no further.
No villanous bounty yet hath past my heart;
Vnwisely, not ignobly haue I giuen.
Why dost thou weepe, canst thou the conscience lacke,
To thinke I shall lacke friends: secure thy heart,
If I would broach the vessels of my loue,
And try the argument of hearts, by borrowing,
Men, and mens fortunes could I frankely vse
As I can bid thee speake

   Ste. Assurance blesse your thoughts

   Tim. And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd,
That I account them blessings. For by these
Shall I trie Friends. You shall perceiue
How you mistake my Fortunes:
I am wealthie in my Friends.
Within there, Flauius, Seruilius?
Enter three Seruants.

  Ser. My Lord, my Lord

   Tim. I will dispatch you seuerally.
You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted
with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me
to their loues; and I am proud say, that my occasions
haue found time to vse 'em toward a supply of mony: let
the request be fifty Talents

   Flam. As you haue said, my Lord

   Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh

   Tim. Go you sir to the Senators;
Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue
Deseru'd this Hearing: bid 'em send o'th' instant
A thousand Talents to me

   Ste. I haue beene bold
(For that I knew it the most generall way)
To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name,
But they do shake their heads, and I am heere
No richer in returne

   Tim. Is't true? Can't be?
  Stew. They answer in a ioynt and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want Treasure cannot
Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable,
But yet they could haue wisht, they know not,
Something hath beene amisse; a Noble Nature
May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty,
And so intending other serious matters,
After distastefull lookes; and these hard Fractions
With certaine halfe-caps, and cold mouing nods,
They froze me into Silence

   Tim. You Gods reward them:
Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes
Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary:
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it sildome flowes,
'Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde;
And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth,
Is fashion'd for the iourney, dull and heauy.
Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad,
Thou art true, and honest; Ingeniously I speake,
No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately
Buried his Father, by whose death hee's stepp'd
Into a great estate: When he was poore,
Imprison'd, and in scarsitie of Friends,
I cleer'd him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me,
Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred
With those fiue Talents; that had, giue't these Fellowes
To whom 'tis instant due. Neu'r speake, or thinke,
That Timons fortunes 'mong his Friends can sinke

   Stew. I would I could not thinke it:
That thought is Bounties Foe;
Being free it selfe, it thinkes all others so.

Exeunt.

Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a
seruant
to him.

  Ser. I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down
to you

   Flam. I thanke you Sir.
Enter Lucullus.

  Ser. Heere's my Lord

   Luc. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant.
Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre
to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie respectiuely
welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how
does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentleman
of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and Mayster?
  Flam. His health is well sir

   Luc. I am right glad that his health is well sir: and
what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius?
  Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in
my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to supply:
who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie
Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: nothing
doubting your present assistance therein

   Luc. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas
good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep
so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with
him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him
of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold embrace
no counsell, take no warning by my comming, euery
man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,
but I could nere get him from't.
Enter Seruant with Wine.

  Ser. Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine

   Luc. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wise.
Heere's to thee

   Flam. Your Lordship speakes your pleasure

   Luc. I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie
prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes
what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the
time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sirrah.
Draw neerer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a bountifull
Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know'st
well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no
time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe
without securitie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good
Boy winke at me, and say thou saw'st mee not. Fare thee
well

   Flam. Is't possible the world should so much differ,
And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse
To him that worships thee

   Luc. Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy
Master.

Exit L[ucullus].

  Flam. May these adde to the number y may scald thee:
Let moulten Coine be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe:
Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart,
It turnes in lesse then two nights? O you Gods!
I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor,
Has my Lords meate in him:
Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment,
When he is turn'd to poyson?
O may Diseases onely worke vpon't:
And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature
Which my Lord payd for, be of any power
To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower.
Enter.

Enter Lucius, with three strangers.

  Luc. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend
and an Honourable Gentleman

   1 We know him for no lesse, thogh we are but strangers
to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and
which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons
happie howres are done and past, and his estate shrinkes
from him

   Lucius. Fye no, doe not beleeue it: hee cannot want
for money

   2 But beleeue you this my Lord, that not long agoe,
one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow so
many Talents, nay vrg'd extreamly for't, and shewed
what necessity belong'd too't, and yet was deny'de

   Luci. How?
  2 I tell you, deny'de my Lord

   Luci. What a strange case was that? Now before the
Gods I am asham'd on't. Denied that honourable man?
There was verie little Honour shew'd in't. For my owne
part, I must needes confesse, I haue receyued some small
kindnesses from him, as Money, Plate, Iewels, and such
like Trifles; nothing comparing to his: yet had hee mistooke
him, and sent to me, I should ne're haue denied his
Occasion so many Talents.
Enter Seruilius.

  Seruil. See, by good hap yonders my Lord, I haue
swet to see his Honor. My Honor'd Lord

   Lucil. Seruilius? You are kindely met sir. Farthewell,
commend me to thy Honourable vertuous Lord, my very
exquisite Friend

   Seruil. May it please your Honour, my Lord hath
sent-
  Luci. Ha? what ha's he sent? I am so much endeered
to that Lord; hee's euer sending: how shall I thank him
think'st thou? And what has he sent now?
  Seruil. Has onely sent his present Occasion now my
Lord: requesting your Lordship to supply his instant vse
with so many Talents

   Lucil. I know his Lordship is but merry with me,
He cannot want fifty fiue hundred Talents

   Seruil. But in the mean time he wants lesse my Lord.
If his occasion were not vertuous,
I should not vrge it halfe so faithfully

   Luc. Dost thou speake seriously Seruilius?
  Seruil. Vpon my soule 'tis true Sir

   Luci. What a wicked Beast was I to disfurnish my
self against such a good time, when I might ha shewn my
selfe Honourable? How vnluckily it hapned, that I shold
Purchase the day before for a little part, and vndo a great
deale of Honour? Seruilius, now before the Gods I am
not able to do (the more beast I say) I was sending to vse
Lord Timon my selfe, these Gentlemen can witnesse; but
I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done't now.
Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship, and I
hope his Honor will conceiue the fairest of mee, because
I haue no power to be kinde. And tell him this from me,
I count it one of my greatest afflictions say, that I cannot
pleasure such an Honourable Gentleman. Good Seruilius,
will you befriend mee so farre, as to vse mine owne
words to him?
  Ser. Yes sir, I shall.

Exit Seruil[ius].

  Lucil. Ile looke you out a good turne Seruilius.
True as you said, Timon is shrunke indeede,
And he that's once deny'de, will hardly speede.
Enter.

  1 Do you obserue this Hostilius?
  2 I, to well

   1 Why this is the worlds soule,
And iust of the same peece
Is euery Flatterers sport: who can call him his Friend
That dips in the same dish? For in my knowing
Timon has bin this Lords Father,
And kept his credit with his purse:
Supported his estate, nay Timons money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne're drinkes,
But Timons Siluer treads vpon his Lip,
And yet, oh see the monstrousnesse of man,
When he lookes out in an vngratefull shape;
He does deny him (in respect of his)
What charitable men affoord to Beggers

   3 Religion grones at it

   1 For mine owne part, I neuer tasted Timon in my life
Nor came any of his bounties ouer me,
To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest,
For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue,
And Honourable Carriage,
Had his necessity made vse of me,
I would haue put my wealth into Donation,
And the best halfe should haue return'd to him,
So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue,
Men must learne now with pitty to dispence,
For Policy sits aboue Conscience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another of Timons Friends.

  Semp. Must he needs trouble me in't? Hum.
'Boue all others?
He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus,
And now Ventidgius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem'd from prison. All these
Owes their estates vnto him

   Ser. My Lord,
They haue all bin touch'd, and found Base-Mettle,
For they haue all denied him

   Semp. How? Haue they deny'de him?
Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny'de him,
And does he send to me? Three? Humh?
It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him.
Must I be his last Refuge? His Friends (like Physitians)
Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th' Cure vpon me?
Has much disgrac'd me in't, I'me angry at him,
That might haue knowne my place. I see no sense for't,
But his Occasions might haue wooed me first:
For in my conscience, I was the first man
That ere receiued guift from him.
And does he thinke so backwardly of me now,
That Ile requite it last? No:
So it may proue an Argument of Laughter
To th' rest, and 'mong'st Lords be thought a Foole:
I'de rather then the worth of thrice the summe,
Had sent to me first, but for my mindes sake:
I'de such a courage to do him good. But now returne,
And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne;
Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.

Exit

  Ser. Excellent: Your Lordships a goodly Villain: the
diuell knew not what he did, when hee made man Politicke;
he crossed himselfe by't: and I cannot thinke, but
in the end, the Villanies of man will set him cleere. How
fairely this Lord striues to appeare foule? Takes Vertuous
Copies to be wicked: like those, that vnder hotte ardent
zeale, would set whole Realmes on fire, of such a nature
is his politike loue.
This was my Lords best hope, now all are fled
Saue onely the Gods. Now his Friends are dead,
Doores that were ne're acquainted with their Wards
Many a bounteous yeere, must be imploy'd
Now to guard sure their Master:
And this is all a liberall course allowes,
Who cannot keepe his wealth, must keep his house.
Enter.

Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to wait
for his
comming out. Then enter Lucius and Hortensius.

  Var.man. Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortensius
  Tit. The like to you kinde Varro

   Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together?
  Luci. I, and I think one businesse do's command vs all.
For mine is money

   Tit. So is theirs, and ours.
Enter Philotus.

  Luci. And sir Philotus too

   Phil. Good day at once

   Luci. Welcome good Brother.
What do you thinke the houre?
  Phil. Labouring for Nine

   Luci. So much?
  Phil. Is not my Lord seene yet?
  Luci. Not yet

   Phil. I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seauen

   Luci. I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him:
You must consider, that a Prodigall course
Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare:
'Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purse, that is: One
may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little

   Phil. I am of your feare, for that

   Tit. Ile shew you how t' obserue a strange euent:
Your Lord sends now for Money?
  Hort. Most true, he doe's

   Tit. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift,
For which I waite for money

   Hort. It is against my heart

   Luci. Marke how strange it showes,
Timon in this, should pay more then he owes:
And e'ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels,
And send for money for 'em

   Hort. I'me weary of this Charge,
The Gods can witnesse:
I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth,
And now Ingratitude, makes it worse then stealth

   Varro. Yes, mine's three thousand Crownes:
What's yours?
  Luci. Fiue thousand mine

   Varro. 'Tis much deepe, and it should seem by th' sum
Your Masters confidence was aboue mine,
Else surely his had equall'd.
Enter Flaminius.

  Tit. One of Lord Timons men

   Luc. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie
to come forth?
  Flam. No, indeed he is not

   Tit. We attend his Lordship: pray signifie so much

   Flam. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent.
Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

  Luci. Ha: is not that his Steward muffled so?
He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him

   Tit. Do you heare, sir?
  2.Varro. By your leaue, sir

   Stew. What do ye aske of me, my Friend

   Tit. We waite for certaine Money heere, sir

   Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr'd you not your summes and Billes
When your false Masters eate of my Lords meat?
Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts.
And take downe th' Intrest into their glutt'nous Mawes.
You do your selues but wrong, to stirre me vp,
Let me passe quietly:
Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end,
I haue no more to reckon, he to spend

   Luci. I, but this answer will not serue

   Stew. If't 'twill not serue, 'tis not so base as you,
For you serue Knaues

   1.Varro. How? What does his casheer'd Worship
mutter?
  2.Varro. No matter what, hee's poore, and that's reuenge
enough. Who can speake broader, then hee that
has no house to put his head in? Such may rayle against
great buildings.
Enter Seruilius.

  Tit. Oh heere's Seruilius: now wee shall know some
answere

   Seru. If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayre
some other houre, I should deriue much from't. For tak't
of my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent:
His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much out
of health, and keepes his Chamber

   Luci. Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke:
And if it be so farre beyond his health,
Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a cleere way to the Gods

   Seruil. Good Gods

   Titus. We cannot take this for answer, sir

   Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.
Enter Timon in a rage.

  Tim. What, are my dores oppos'd against my passage?
Haue I bin euer free, and must my house
Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?
The place which I haue Feasted, does it now
(Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart?
  Luci. Put in now Titus

   Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill

   Luci. Here's mine

   1.Var. And mine, my Lord

   2.Var. And ours, my Lord

   Philo. All our Billes

   Tim. Knocke me downe with 'em, cleaue mee to the
Girdle

   Luc. Alas, my Lord

   Tim. Cut my heart in summes

   Tit. Mine, fifty Talents

   Tim. Tell out my blood

   Luc. Fiue thousand Crownes, my Lord

   Tim. Fiue thousand drops payes that.
What yours? and yours?
  1.Var. My Lord

   2.Var. My Lord

   Tim. Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.

Exit Timon.

  Hort. Faith I perceiue our Masters may throwe their
caps at their money, these debts may well be call'd desperate
ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Exeunt.

Enter Timon.

  Timon. They haue e'ene put my breath from mee the
slaues. Creditors? Diuels

   Stew. My deere Lord

   Tim. What if it should be so?
  Stew. My Lord

   Tim. Ile haue it so. My Steward?
  Stew. Heere my Lord

   Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe,
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All,
Ile once more feast the Rascals

   Stew. O my Lord, you onely speake from your distracted
soule; there's not so much left to furnish out a moderate
Table

   Tim. Be it not in thy care:
Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tide
Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.

Exeunt.

Enter three Senators at one doore, Alcibiades meeting them, with
Attendants

   1.Sen. My Lord, you haue my voyce, too't,
The faults Bloody:
'Tis necessary he should dye:
Nothing imboldens sinne so much, as Mercy

   2 Most true; the Law shall bruise 'em

   Alc. Honor, health, and compassion to the Senate

   1 Now Captaine

   Alc. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues;
For pitty is the vertue of the Law,
And none but Tyrants vse it cruelly.
It pleases time and Fortune to lye heauie
Vpon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath stept into the Law: which is past depth
To those that (without heede) do plundge intoo't.
He is a Man (setting his Fate aside) of comely Vertues,
Nor did he soyle the fact with Cowardice.
(And Honour in him, which buyes out his fault)
But with a Noble Fury, and faire spirit,
Seeing his Reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his Foe:
And with such sober and vnnoted passion
He did behooue his anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prou'd an Argument

   1.Sen. You vndergo too strict a Paradox,
Striuing to make an vgly deed looke faire:
Your words haue tooke such paines, as if they labour'd
To bring Man-slaughter into forme, and set Quarrelling
Vpon the head of Valour; which indeede
Is Valour mis-begot, and came into the world,
When Sects, and Factions were newly borne.
Hee's truly Valiant, that can wisely suffer
The worst that man can breath,
And make his Wrongs, his Out-sides,
To weare them like his Rayment, carelessely,
And ne're preferre his iniuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
If Wrongs be euilles, and inforce vs kill,
What Folly 'tis, to hazard life for Ill

   Alci. My Lord

   1.Sen. You cannot make grosse sinnes looke cleare,
To reuenge is no Valour, but to beare

   Alci. My Lords, then vnder fauour, pardon me,
If I speake like a Captaine.
Why do fond men expose themselues to Battell,
And not endure all threats? Sleepe vpon't,
And let the Foes quietly cut their Throats
Without repugnancy? If there be
Such Valour in the bearing, what make wee
Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant
That stay at home, if Bearing carry it:
And the Asse, more Captaine then the Lyon?
The fellow loaden with Irons, wiser then the Iudge?
If Wisedome be in suffering. Oh my Lords,
As you are great, be pittifully Good,
Who cannot condemne rashnesse in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sinnes extreamest Gust,
But in defence, by Mercy, 'tis most iust.
To be in Anger, is impietie:
But who is Man, that is not Angrie.
Weigh but the Crime with this

   2.Sen. You breath in vaine

   Alci. In vaine?
His seruice done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life

   1 What's that?
  Alc. Why say my Lords ha's done faire seruice,
And slaine in fight many of your enemies:
How full of valour did he beare himselfe
In the last Conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
  2 He has made too much plenty with him:
He's a sworne Riotor, he has a sinne
That often drownes him, and takes his valour prisoner.
If there were no Foes, that were enough
To ouercome him. In that Beastly furie,
He has bin knowne to commit outrages,
And cherrish Factions. 'Tis inferr'd to vs,
His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous

   1 He dyes

   Alci. Hard fate: he might haue dyed in warre.
My Lords, if not for any parts in him,
Though his right arme might purchase his owne time,
And be in debt to none: yet more to moue you,
Take my deserts to his, and ioyne 'em both.
And for I know, your reuerend Ages loue Security,
Ile pawne my Victories, all my Honour to you
Vpon his good returnes.
If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life,
Why let the Warre receiue't in valiant gore,
For Law is strict, and Warre is nothing more

   1 We are for Law, he dyes, vrge it no more
On height of our displeasure: Friend, or Brother,
He forfeits his owne blood, that spilles another

   Alc. Must it be so? It must not bee:
My Lords, I do beseech you know mee

   2 How?
  Alc. Call me to your remembrances

   3 What

   Alc. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me,
It could not else be, I should proue so bace,
To sue and be deny'de such common Grace.
My wounds ake at you

   1 Do you dare our anger?
'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:
We banish thee for euer

   Alc. Banish me?
Banish your dotage, banish vsurie,
That makes the Senate vgly

   1 If after two dayes shine, Athens containe thee,
Attend our waightier Iudgement.
And not to swell our Spirit,
He shall be executed presently.

Exeunt.

  Alc. Now the Gods keepe you old enough,
That you may liue
Onely in bone, that none may looke on you.
I'm worse then mad: I haue kept backe their Foes
While they haue told their Money, and let out
Their Coine vpon large interest. I my selfe,
Rich onely in large hurts. All those, for this?
Is this the Balsome, that the vsuring Senat
Powres into Captaines wounds? Banishment.
It comes not ill: I hate not to be banisht,
It is a cause worthy my Spleene and Furie,
That I may strike at Athens. Ile cheere vp
My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts;
'Tis Honour with most Lands to be at ods,
Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as Gods.
Enter.

Enter diuers Friends at seuerall doores.

  1 The good time of day to you, sir

   2 I also wish it to you: I thinke this Honorable Lord
did but try vs this other day

   1 Vpon that were my thoughts tyring when wee encountred.
I hope it is not so low with him as he made it
seeme in the triall of his seuerall Friends

   2 It should not be, by the perswasion of his new Feasting

   1 I should thinke so. He hath sent mee an earnest inuiting,
which many my neere occasions did vrge mee to
put off: but he hath coniur'd mee beyond them, and I
must needs appeare

   2 In like manner was I in debt to my importunat businesse,
but he would not heare my excuse. I am sorrie,
when he sent to borrow of mee, that my Prouision was
out

   1 I am sicke of that greefe too, as I vnderstand how all
things go

   2 Euery man heares so: what would hee haue borrowed
of you?
  1 A thousand Peeces

   2 A thousand Peeces?
  1 What of you?
  2 He sent to me sir- Heere he comes.
Enter Timon and Attendants.

  Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how
fare you?
  1 Euer at the best, hearing well of your Lordship

   2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing,
then we your Lordship

   Tim. Nor more willingly leaues Winter, such Summer
Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompence
this long stay: Feast your eares with the Musicke
awhile: If they will fare so harshly o'th' Trumpets
sound: we shall too't presently

   1 I hope it remaines not vnkindely with your Lordship,
that I return'd you an empty Messenger

   Tim. O sir, let it not trouble you

   2 My Noble Lord

   Tim. Ah my good Friend, what cheere?

The Banket brought in.

  2 My most Honorable Lord, I am e'ne sick of shame,
that when your Lordship this other day sent to me, I was
so vnfortunate a Beggar

   Tim. Thinke not on't, sir

   2 If you had sent but two houres before

   Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance.
Come bring in all together

   2 All couer'd Dishes

   1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you

   3 Doubt not that, if money and the season can yeild it
  1 How do you? What's the newes?
  3 Alcibiades is banish'd: heare you of it?
  Both. Alcibiades banish'd?
  3 'Tis so, be sure of it

   1 How? How?
  2 I pray you vpon what?
  Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw neere?
  3 Ile tell you more anon. Here's a Noble feast toward
  2 This is the old man still

   3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold?
  2 It do's: but time will, and so

   3 I do conceyue

   Tim. Each man to his stoole, with that spurre as hee
would to the lip of his Mistris: your dyet shall bee in all
places alike. Make not a Citie Feast of it, to let the meat
coole, ere we can agree vpon the first place. Sit, sit.
The Gods require our Thankes.
You great Benefactors, sprinkle our Society with Thankefulnesse.
For your owne guifts, make your selues prais'd: But
reserue still to giue, least your Deities be despised. Lend to each
man enough, that one neede not lend to another. For were your
Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make
the Meate be beloued, more then the Man that giues it. Let
no Assembly of Twenty, be without a score of Villaines. If there
sit twelue Women at the Table, let a dozen of them bee as they
are. The rest of your Fees, O Gods, the Senators of Athens,
together with the common legge of People, what is amisse in
them, you Gods, make suteable for destruction. For these my
present Friends, as they are to mee nothing, so in nothing blesse
them, and to nothing are they welcome.
Vncouer Dogges, and lap

   Some speake. What do's his Lordship meane?
  Some other. I know not

   Timon. May you a better Feast neuer behold
You knot of Mouth-Friends: Smoke, & lukewarm water
Is your perfection. This is Timons last,
Who stucke and spangled you with Flatteries,
Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villany. Liue loath'd, and long
Most smiling, smooth, detested Parasites,
Curteous Destroyers, affable Wolues, meeke Beares:
You Fooles of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Times Flyes,
Cap and knee-Slaues, vapours, and Minute Iackes.
Of Man and Beast, the infinite Maladie
Crust you quite o're. What do'st thou go?
Soft, take thy Physicke first; thou too, and thou:
Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none.
What? All in Motion? Henceforth be no Feast,
Whereat a Villaine's not a welcome Guest.
Burne house, sinke Athens, henceforth hated be
Of Timon Man, and all Humanity.

Exit

Enter the Senators, with other Lords.

  1 How now, my Lords?
  2 Know you the quality of Lord Timons fury?
  3 Push, did you see my Cap?
  4 I haue lost my Gowne

   1 He's but a mad Lord, & nought but humors swaies
him. He gaue me a Iewell th' other day, and now hee has
beate it out of my hat.
Did you see my Iewell?
  2 Did you see my Cap

   3 Heere 'tis

   4 Heere lyes my Gowne

   1 Let's make no stay

   2 Lord Timons mad

   3 I feel't vpon my bones

   4 One day he giues vs Diamonds, next day stones.

Exeunt. the Senators.

Enter Timon.

  Tim. Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall
That girdles in those Wolues, diue in the earth,
And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent,
Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles
Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
And minister in their steeds, to generall Filthes.
Conuert o'th' Instant greene Virginity,
Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast
Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues,
And cut your Trusters throates. Bound Seruants, steale,
Large-handed Robbers your graue Masters are,
And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Masters bed,
Thy Mistris is o'th' Brothell. Some of sixteen,
Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
With it, beate out his Braines. Piety, and Feare,
Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iustice, Truth,
Domesticke awe, Night-rest, and Neighbourhood,
Instruction, Manners, Mysteries, and Trades,
Degrees, Obseruances, Customes, and Lawes,
Decline to your confounding contraries.
And yet Confusion liue: Plagues incident to men,
Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape
On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt
As lamely as their Manners. Lust, and Libertie
Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth,
That 'gainst the streame of Vertue they may striue,
And drowne themselues in Riot. Itches, Blaines,
So we all th' Athenian bosomes, and their crop
Be generall Leprosie: Breath, infect breath,
That their Society (as their Friendship) may
Be meerely poyson. Nothing Ile beare from thee
But nakednesse, thou detestable Towne,
Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes:
Timon will to the Woods, where he shall finde
Th' vnkindest Beast, more kinder then Mankinde.
The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all)
Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall:
And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow
To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low.
Amen.
Enter.

Enter Steward with two or three Seruants.

  1 Heare you M[aster]. Steward, where's our Master?
Are we vndone, cast off, nothing remaining?
  Stew. Alack my Fellowes, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods,
I am as poore as you

   1 Such a House broke?
So Noble a Master falne, all gone, and not
One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme,
And go along with him

   2 As we do turne our backes
From our Companion, throwne into his graue,
So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes
Slinke all away, leaue their false vowes with him
Like empty purses pickt; and his poore selfe
A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre,
With his disease, of all shunn'd pouerty,
Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes.
Enter other Seruants.

  Stew. All broken Implements of a ruin'd house

   3 Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery,
That see I by our Faces: we are Fellowes still,
Seruing alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our Barke,
And we poore Mates, stand on the dying Decke,
Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part
Into this Sea of Ayre

   Stew. Good Fellowes all,
The latest of my wealth Ile share among'st you.
Where euer we shall meete, for Timons sake,
Let's yet be Fellowes. Let's shake our heads, and say
As 'twere a Knell vnto our Masters Fortunes,
We haue seene better dayes. Let each take some:
Nay put out all your hands: Not one word more,
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poore.

Embrace and part seuerall wayes.

Oh the fierce wretchednesse that Glory brings vs!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt?
Who would be so mock'd with Glory, or to liue
But in a Dreame of Friendship,
To haue his pompe, and all what state compounds,
But onely painted like his varnisht Friends:
Poore honest Lord, brought lowe by his owne heart,
Vndone by Goodnesse: Strange vnvsuall blood,
When mans worst sinne is, He do's too much Good.
Who then dares to be halfe so kinde agen?
For Bounty that makes Gods, do still marre Men.
My deerest Lord, blest to be most accurst,
Rich onely to be wretched; thy great Fortunes
Are made thy cheefe Afflictions. Alas (kinde Lord)
Hee's flung in Rage from this ingratefull Seate
Of monstrous Friends:
Nor ha's he with him to supply his life,
Or that which can command it:
Ile follow and enquire him out.
Ile euer serue his minde, with my best will,
Whilst I haue Gold, Ile be his Steward still.
Enter.

Enter Timon in the woods.

  Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe
Infect the ayre. Twin'd Brothers of one wombe,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarse is diuidant; touch them with seuerall fortunes,
The greater scornes the lesser. Not Nature
(To whom all sores lay siege) can beare great Fortune
But by contempt of Nature.
Raise me this Begger, and deny't that Lord,
The Senators shall beare contempt Hereditary,
The Begger Natiue Honor.
It is the Pastour Lards, the Brothers sides,
The want that makes him leaue: who dares? who dares
In puritie of Manhood stand vpright
And say, this mans a Flatterer. If one be,
So are they all: for euerie grize of Fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The Learned pate
Duckes to the Golden Foole. All's obliquie:
There's nothing leuell in our cursed Natures
But direct villanie. Therefore be abhorr'd,
All Feasts, Societies, and Throngs of men.
His semblable, yea himselfe Timon disdaines,
Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes,
Who seekes for better of thee, sawce his pallate
With thy most operant Poyson. What is heere?
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
No Gods, I am no idle Votarist,
Roots you cleere Heauens. Thus much of this will make
Blacke, white; fowle, faire; wrong, right;
Base, Noble; Old, young; Coward, valiant.
Ha you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why this
Will lugge your Priests and Seruants from your sides:
Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads.
This yellow Slaue,
Will knit and breake Religions, blesse th' accurst,
Make the hoare Leprosie ador'd, place Theeues,
And giue them Title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench: This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe;
Shee, whom the Spittle-house, and vlcerous sores,
Would cast the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices
To'th' Aprill day againe. Come damn'd Earth,
Thou common whore of Mankinde, that puttes oddes
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee
Do thy right Nature.

March afarre off.

Ha? A Drumme? Th'art quicke,
But yet Ile bury thee: Thou't go (strong Theefe)
When Gowty keepers of thee cannot stand:
Nay stay thou out for earnest.
Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fife in warlike manner, and
Phrynia and
Timandra.

  Alc. What art thou there? speake

   Tim. A Beast as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy hart
For shewing me againe the eyes of Man

   Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hatefull to thee,
That art thy selfe a Man?
  Tim. I am Misantropos, and hate Mankinde.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dogge,
That I might loue thee something

   Alc. I know thee well:
But in thy Fortunes am vnlearn'd, and strange

   Tim. I know thee too, and more then that I know thee
I not desire to know. Follow thy Drumme,
With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules:
Religious Cannons, ciuill Lawes are cruell,
Then what should warre be? This fell whore of thine,
Hath in her more destruction then thy Sword,
For all her Cherubin looke

   Phrin. Thy lips rot off

   Tim. I will not kisse thee, then the rot returnes
To thine owne lippes againe

   Alc. How came the Noble Timon to this change?
  Tim. As the Moone do's, by wanting light to giue:
But then renew I could not like the Moone,
There were no Sunnes to borrow of

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

   Alc. What is it Timon?
  Tim. Promise me Friendship, but performe none.
If thou wilt not promise, the Gods plague thee, for thou
art a man: if thou do'st performe, confound thee, for
thou art a man

   Alc. I haue heard in some sort of thy Miseries

   Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperitie

   Alc. I see them now, then was a blessed time

   Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots

   Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world
Voic'd so regardfully?
  Tim. Art thou Timandra?
  Timan. Yes

   Tim. Be a whore still, they loue thee not that vse thee,
giue them diseases, leauing with thee their Lust. Make
vse of thy salt houres, season the slaues for Tubbes and
Bathes, bring downe Rose-cheekt youth to the Fubfast,
and the Diet

   Timan. Hang thee Monster

   Alc. Pardon him sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his Calamities.
I haue but little Gold of late, braue Timon,
The want whereof, doth dayly make reuolt
In my penurious Band. I haue heard and greeu'd
How cursed Athens, mindelesse of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when Neighbour states
But for thy Sword and Fortune trod vpon them

   Tim. I prythee beate thy Drum, and get thee gone

   Alc. I am thy Friend, and pitty thee deere Timon

   Tim. How doest thou pitty him whom y dost troble,
I had rather be alone

   Alc. Why fare thee well:
Heere is some Gold for thee

   Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eate it

   Alc. When I haue laid proud Athens on a heape

   Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens

   Alc. I Timon, and haue cause

   Tim. The Gods confound them all in thy Conquest,
And thee after, when thou hast Conquer'd

   Alc. Why me, Timon?
  Tim. That by killing of Villaines
Thou was't borne to conquer my Country.
Put vp thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, go on;
Be as a Plannetary plague, when Ioue
Will o're some high-Vic'd City, hang his poyson
In the sicke ayre: let not thy sword skip one:
Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard,
He is an Vsurer. Strike me the counterfet Matron,
It is her habite onely, that is honest,
Her selfe's a Bawd. Let not the Virgins cheeke
Make soft thy trenchant Sword: for those Milke pappes
That through the window Barne bore at mens eyes,
Are not within the Leafe of pitty writ,
But set them down horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe
Whose dimpled smiles from Fooles exhaust their mercy;
Thinke it a Bastard, whom the Oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse. Sweare against Obiects,
Put Armour on thine eares, and on thine eyes,
Whose proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes,
Nor sight of Priests in holy Vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a iot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers,
Make large confusion: and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thy selfe. Speake not, be gone

   Alc. Hast thou Gold yet, Ile take the Gold thou giuest
me, not all thy Counsell

   Tim. Dost thou or dost thou not, Heauens curse vpon
thee

   Both. Giue vs some Gold good Timon, hast y more?
  Tim. Enough to make a Whore forsweare her Trade,
And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold vp you Sluts
Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable,
Although I know you'l sweare, terribly sweare
Into strong shudders, and to heauenly Agues
Th' immortall Gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes:
Ile trust to your Conditions, be whores still.
And he whose pious breath seekes to conuert you,
Be strong in Whore, allure him, burne him vp,
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turne-coats: yet may your paines six months
Be quite contrary, And Thatch
Your poore thin Roofes with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter:
Weare them, betray with them; Whore still,
Paint till a horse may myre vpon your face:
A pox of wrinkles

   Both. Well, more Gold, what then?
Beleeue't that wee'l do any thing for Gold

   Tim. Consumptions sowe
In hollow bones of man, strike their sharpe shinnes,
And marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce,
That he may neuer more false Title pleade,
Nor sound his Quillets shrilly: Hoare the Flamen,
That scold'st against the quality of flesh,
And not beleeues himselfe. Downe with the Nose,
Downe with it flat, take the Bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee
Smels from the generall weale. Make curl'd pate Ruffians bald
And let the vnscarr'd Braggerts of the Warre
Deriue some paine from you. Plague all,
That your Actiuity may defeate and quell
The sourse of all Erection. There's more Gold.
Do you damne others, and let this damne you,
And ditches graue you all

   Both. More counsell with more Money, bounteous
Timon

   Tim. More whore, more Mischeefe first, I haue giuen
you earnest

   Alc. Strike vp the Drum towardes Athens, farewell
Timon: if I thriue well, Ile visit thee againe

   Tim. If I hope well, Ile neuer see thee more

   Alc. I neuer did thee harme

   Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me

   Alc. Call'st thou that harme?
  Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away,
And take thy Beagles with thee

   Alc. We but offend him, strike.

Exeunt.

  Tim. That Nature being sicke of mans vnkindnesse
Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou
Whose wombe vnmeasureable, and infinite brest
Teemes and feeds all: whose selfesame Mettle
Whereof thy proud Childe (arrogant man) is puft,
Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew,
The gilded Newt, and eyelesse venom'd Worme,
With all th' abhorred Births below Crispe Heauen,
Whereon Hyperions quickning fire doth shine:
Yeeld him, who all the humane Sonnes do hate,
From foorth thy plenteous bosome, one poore roote:
Enseare thy Fertile and Conceptious wombe,
Let it no more bring out ingratefull man.
Goe great with Tygers, Dragons, Wolues, and Beares,
Teeme with new Monsters, whom thy vpward face
Hath to the Marbled Mansion all aboue
Neuer presented. O, a Root, deare thankes:
Dry vp thy Marrowes, Vines, and Plough-torne Leas,
Whereof ingratefull man with Licourish draughts
And Morsels Vnctious, greases his pure minde,
That from it all Consideration slippes-
Enter Apemantus.

More man? Plague, plague

   Ape. I was directed hither. Men report,
Thou dost affect my Manners, and dost vse them

   Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keepe a dogge
Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee

   Ape. This is in thee a Nature but infected,
A poore vnmanly Melancholly sprung
From change of future. Why this Spade? this place?
This Slaue-like Habit, and these lookes of Care?
Thy Flatterers yet weare Silke, drinke Wine, lye soft,
Hugge their diseas'd Perfumes, and haue forgot
That euer Timon was. Shame not these Woods,
By putting on the cunning of a Carper.
Be thou a Flatterer now, and seeke to thriue
By that which ha's vndone thee; hindge thy knee,
And let his very breath whom thou'lt obserue
Blow off thy Cap: praise his most vicious straine,
And call it excellent: thou wast told thus:
Thou gau'st thine eares (like Tapsters, that bad welcom)
To Knaues, and all approachers: 'Tis most iust
That thou turne Rascall, had'st thou wealth againe,
Rascals should haue't. Do not assume my likenesse

   Tim. Were I like thee, I'de throw away my selfe

   Ape. Thou hast cast away thy selfe, being like thy self
A Madman so long, now a Foole: what think'st
That the bleake ayre, thy boysterous Chamberlaine
Will put thy shirt on warme? Will these moyst Trees,
That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brooke
Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste
To cure thy o're-nights surfet? Call the Creatures,
Whose naked Natures liue in all the spight
Of wrekefull Heauen, whose bare vnhoused Trunkes,
To the conflicting Elements expos'd
Answer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee.
O thou shalt finde

   Tim. A Foole of thee: depart

   Ape. I loue thee better now, then ere I did

   Tim. I hate thee worse

   Ape. Why?
  Tim. Thou flatter'st misery

   Ape. I flatter not, but say thou art a Caytiffe

   Tim. Why do'st thou seeke me out?
  Ape. To vex thee

   Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles.
Dost please thy selfe in't?
  Ape. I

   Tim. What, a Knaue too?
  Ape. If thou did'st put this sowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly: Thou'dst Courtier be againe
Wert thou not Beggar: willing misery
Out-liues: incertaine pompe, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, neuer compleat:
The other, at high wish: best state Contentlesse,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse then the worst, Content.
Thou should'st desire to dye, being miserable

   Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme
With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge.
Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded,
The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords,
To such as may the passiue drugges of it
Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self
In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth
In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd
The Icie precepts of respect, but followed
The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe,
Who had the world as my Confectionarie,
The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,
At duty more then I could frame employment;
That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues
Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush
Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare,
For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this,
That neuer knew but better, is some burthen:
Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st y hate Men?
They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen?
If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge)
Must be thy subiect; who in spight put stuffe
To some shee-Begger, and compounded thee
Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone,
If thou hadst not bene borne the worst of men,
Thou hadst bene a Knaue and Flatterer

   Ape. Art thou proud yet?
  Tim. I, that I am not thee

   Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall

   Tim. I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I haue shut vp in thee,
I'ld giue thee leaue to hang it. Get thee gone:
That the whole life of Athens were in this,
Thus would I eate it

   Ape. Heere, I will mend thy Feast

   Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy selfe

   Ape. So I shall mend mine owne, by'th' lacke of thine
  Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht;
If not, I would it were

   Ape. What would'st thou haue to Athens?
  Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt,
Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue

   Ape. Heere is no vse for Gold

   Tim. The best, and truest:
For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme

   Ape. Where lyest a nights Timon?
  Tim. Vnder that's aboue me.
Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus?
  Ape. Where my stomacke findes meate, or rather
where I eate it

   Tim. Would poyson were obedient, & knew my mind
  Ape. Where would'st thou send it?
  Tim. To sawce thy dishes

   Ape. The middle of Humanity thou neuer knewest,
but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy
Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much
Curiositie: in thy Ragges thou know'st none, but art despis'd
for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it

   Tim. On what I hate, I feed not

   Ape. Do'st hate a Medler?
  Tim. I, though it looke like thee

   Ape. And th'hadst hated Medlers sooner, y should'st
haue loued thy selfe better now. What man didd'st thou
euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes!
  Tim. Who without those meanes thou talk'st of, didst
thou euer know belou'd?
  Ape. My selfe

   Tim. I vnderstand thee: thou had'st some meanes to
keepe a Dogge

   Apem. What things in the world canst thou neerest
compare to thy Flatterers?
  Tim. Women neerest, but men: men are the things
themselues. What would'st thou do with the world Apemantus,
if it lay in thy power?
  Ape. Giue it the Beasts, to be rid of the men

   Tim. Would'st thou haue thy selfe fall in the confusion
of men, and remaine a Beast with the Beasts

   Ape. I Timon

   Tim. A beastly Ambition, which the Goddes graunt
thee t' attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
beguile thee. if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would
eate thee: if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would suspect
thee, when peraduenture thou wert accus'd by the Asse:
If thou wert the Asse, thy dulnesse would torment thee;
and still thou liu'dst but as a Breakefast to the Wolfe. If
thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedinesse would afflict thee,
& oft thou should'st hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert
thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound
thee, and make thine owne selfe the conquest of thy fury.
Wert thou a Beare, thou would'st be kill'd by the Horse:
wert thou a Horse, thou would'st be seaz'd by the Leopard:
wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the
Lion, and the spottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy
life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence.
What Beast could'st thou bee, that were not subiect
to a Beast: and what a Beast art thou already, that
seest not thy losse in transformation

   Ape. If thou could'st please me
With speaking to me, thou might'st
Haue hit vpon it heere.
The Commonwealth of Athens, is become
A Forrest of Beasts

   Tim. How ha's the Asse broke the wall, that thou art
out of the Citie

   Ape. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter:
The plague of Company light vpon thee:
I will feare to catch it, and giue way.
When I know not what else to do,
Ile see thee againe

   Tim. When there is nothing liuing but thee,
Thou shalt be welcome.
I had rather be a Beggers Dogge,
Then Apemantus

   Ape. Thou art the Cap
Of all the Fooles aliue

   Tim. Would thou wert cleane enough
To spit vpon

   Ape. A plague on thee,
Thou art too bad to curse

   Tim. All Villaines
That do stand by thee, are pure

   Ape. There is no Leprosie,
But what thou speak'st

   Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee;
But I should infect my hands

   Ape. I would my tongue
Could rot them off

   Tim. Away thou issue of a mangie dogge,
Choller does kill me,
That thou art aliue, I swoond to see thee

   Ape. Would thou would'st burst

   Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am sorry I shall
lose a stone by thee

   Ape. Beast

   Tim. Slaue

   Ape. Toad

   Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.
I am sicke of this false world, and will loue nought
But euen the meere necessities vpon't:
Then Timon presently prepare thy graue:
Lye where the light Fome of the Sea may beate
Thy graue stone dayly, make thine Epitaph,
That death in me, at others liues may laugh.
O thou sweete King-killer, and deare diuorce
Twixt naturall Sunne and fire: thou bright defiler
Of Himens purest bed, thou valiant Mars,
Thou euer, yong, fresh, loued, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thawe the consecrated Snow
That lyes on Dians lap.
Thou visible God,
That souldrest close Impossibilities,
And mak'st them kisse; that speak'st with euerie Tongue
To euerie purpose: O thou touch of hearts,
Thinke thy slaue-man rebels, and by thy vertue
Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts
May haue the world in Empire

   Ape. Would 'twere so,
But not till I am dead. Ile say th'hast Gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly

   Tim. Throng'd too?
  Ape. I

   Tim. Thy backe I prythee

   Ape. Liue, and loue thy misery

   Tim. Long liue so, and so dye. I am quit

   Ape. Mo things like men,
Eate Timon, and abhorre then.

Exit Apeman[tus].

Enter the Bandetti.

  1 Where should he haue this Gold? It is some poore
Fragment, some slender Ort of his remainder: the meere
want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, droue
him into this Melancholly

   2 It is nois'd
He hath a masse of Treasure

   3 Let vs make the assay vpon him, if he care not for't,
he will supply vs easily: if he couetously reserue it, how
shall's get it?
  2 True: for he beares it not about him:
'Tis hid

   1 Is not this hee?
  All. Where?
  2 'Tis his description

   3 He? I know him

   All. Saue thee Timon

   Tim. Now Theeues

   All. Soldiers, not Theeues

   Tim. Both too, and womens Sonnes

   All. We are not Theeues, but men
That much do want

   Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat:
Why should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Rootes:
Within this Mile breake forth a hundred Springs:
The Oakes beare Mast, the Briars Scarlet Heps,
The bounteous Huswife Nature, on each bush,
Layes her full Messe before you. Want? why Want?
  1 We cannot liue on Grasse, on Berries, Water,
As Beasts, and Birds, and Fishes

   Ti. Nor on the Beasts themselues, the Birds & Fishes,
You must eate men. Yet thankes I must you con,
That you are Theeues profest: that you worke not
In holier shapes: For there is boundlesse Theft
In limited Professions. Rascall Theeues
Heere's Gold. Go, sucke the subtle blood o'th' Grape,
Till the high Feauor seeth your blood to froth,
And so scape hanging. Trust not the Physitian,
His Antidotes are poyson, and he slayes
Moe then you Rob: Take wealth, and liues together,
Do Villaine do, since you protest to doo't.
Like Workemen, Ile example you with Theeuery:
The Sunnes a Theefe, and with his great attraction
Robbes the vaste Sea. The Moones an arrant Theefe,
And her pale fire, she snatches from the Sunne.
The Seas a Theefe, whose liquid Surge, resolues
The Moone into Salt teares. The Earth's a Theefe,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolne
From gen'rall excrement: each thing's a Theefe.
The Lawes, your curbe and whip, in their rough power
Ha's vncheck'd Theft. Loue not your selues, away,
Rob one another, there's more Gold, cut throates,
All that you meete are Theeues: to Athens go,
Breake open shoppes, nothing can you steale
But Theeues do loose it: steale lesse, for this I giue you,
And Gold confound you howsoere: Amen

   3 Has almost charm'd me from my Profession, by perswading
me to it

   1 'Tis in the malice of mankinde, that he thus aduises
vs not to haue vs thriue in our mystery

   2 Ile beleeue him as an Enemy,
And giue ouer my Trade

   1 Let vs first see peace in Athens, there is no time so
miserable, but a man may be true.

Exit Theeues.

Enter the Steward to Timon.

  Stew. Oh you Gods!
Is yon'd despis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and fayling? Oh Monument
And wonder of good deeds, euilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of Honor has desp'rate want made?
What vilder thing vpon the earth, then Friends,
Who can bring Noblest mindes, to basest ends.
How rarely does it meete with this times guise,
When man was wisht to loue his Enemies:
Grant I may euer loue, and rather woo
Those that would mischeefe me, then those that doo.
Has caught me in his eye, I will present my honest griefe
vnto him; and as my Lord, still serue him with my life.
My deerest Master

   Tim. Away: what art thou?
  Stew. Haue you forgot me, Sir?
  Tim. Why dost aske that? I haue forgot all men.
Then, if thou grunt'st, th'art a man.
I haue forgot thee

   Stew. An honest poore seruant of yours

   Tim. Then I know thee not:
I neuer had honest man about me, I all
I kept were Knaues, to serue in meate to Villaines

   Stew. The Gods are witnesse,
Neu'r did poore Steward weare a truer greefe
For his vndone Lord, then mine eyes for you

   Tim. What, dost thou weepe?
Come neerer, then I loue thee
Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankinde: whose eyes do neuer giue,
But thorow Lust and Laughter: pittie's sleeping:
Strange times y weepe with laughing, not with weeping

   Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord,
T' accept my greefe, and whil'st this poore wealth lasts,
To entertaine me as your Steward still

   Tim. Had I a Steward
So true, so iust, and now so comfortable?
It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde.
Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
Was borne of woman.
Forgiue my generall, and exceptlesse rashnesse
You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime
One honest man: Mistake me not, but one:
No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.
How faine would I haue hated all mankinde,
And thou redeem'st thy selfe. But all saue thee,
I fell with Curses.
Me thinkes thou art more honest now, then wise:
For, by oppressing and betraying mee,
Thou might'st haue sooner got another Seruice:
For many so arriue at second Masters,
Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,
(For I must euer doubt, though ne're so sure)
Is not thy kindnesse subtle, couetous,
If not a Vsuring kindnesse, and as rich men deale Guifts,
Expecting in returne twenty for one?
  Stew. No my most worthy Master, in whose brest
Doubt, and suspect (alas) are plac'd too late:
You should haue fear'd false times, when you did Feast.
Suspect still comes, where an estate is least.
That which I shew, Heauen knowes, is meerely Loue,
Dutie, and Zeale, to your vnmatched minde;
Care of your Food and Liuing, and beleeue it,
My most Honour'd Lord,
For any benefit that points to mee,
Either in hope, or present, I'de exchange
For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich your selfe

   Tim. Looke thee, 'tis so: thou singly honest man,
Heere take: the Gods out of my miserie
Ha's sent thee Treasure. Go, liue rich and happy,
But thus condition'd: Thou shalt build from men:
Hate all, curse all, shew Charity to none,
But let the famisht flesh slide from the Bone,
Ere thou releeue the Begger. Giue to dogges
What thou denyest to men. Let Prisons swallow 'em,
Debts wither 'em to nothing, be men like blasted woods
And may Diseases licke vp their false bloods,
And so farewell, and thriue

   Stew. O let me stay, and comfort you, my Master

   Tim. If thou hat'st Curses
Stay not: flye, whil'st thou art blest and free:
Ne're see thou man, and let me ne're see thee.

Exit

Enter Poet, and Painter.

  Pain. As I tooke note of the place, it cannot be farre
where he abides

   Poet. What's to be thought of him?
Does the Rumor hold for true,
That hee's so full of Gold?
  Painter. Certaine.
Alcibiades reports it: Phrinica and Timandylo
Had Gold of him. He likewise enrich'd
Poore stragling Souldiers, with great quantity.
'Tis saide, he gaue vnto his Steward
A mighty summe

   Poet. Then this breaking of his,
Ha's beene but a Try for his Friends?
  Painter. Nothing else:
You shall see him a Palme in Athens againe,
And flourish with the highest:
Therefore, 'tis not amisse, we tender our loues
To him, in this suppos'd distresse of his:
It will shew honestly in vs,
And is very likely, to loade our purposes
With what they trauaile for,
If it be a iust and true report, that goes
Of his hauing

   Poet. What haue you now
To present vnto him?
  Painter. Nothing at this time
But my Visitation: onely I will promise him
An excellent Peece

   Poet. I must serue him so too;
Tell him of an intent that's comming toward him

   Painter. Good as the best.
Promising, is the verie Ayre o'th' Time;
It opens the eyes of Expectation.
Performance, is euer the duller for his acte,
And but in the plainer and simpler kinde of people,
The deede of Saying is quite out of vse.
To Promise, is most Courtly and fashionable;
Performance, is a kinde of Will or Testament
Which argues a great sicknesse in his iudgement
That makes it.
Enter Timon from his Caue.

  Timon. Excellent Workeman,
Thou canst not paint a man so badde
As is thy selfe

   Poet. I am thinking
What I shall say I haue prouided for him:
It must be a personating of himselfe:
A Satyre against the softnesse of Prosperity,
With a Discouerie of the infinite Flatteries
That follow youth and opulencie

   Timon. Must thou needes
Stand for a Villaine in thine owne Worke?
Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men?
Do so, I haue Gold for thee

   Poet. Nay let's seeke him.
Then do we sinne against our owne estate,
When we may profit meete, and come too late

   Painter. True:
When the day serues before blacke-corner'd night;
Finde what thou want'st, by free and offer'd light.
Come

   Tim. Ile meete you at the turne:
What a Gods Gold, that he is worshipt
In a baser Temple, then where Swine feede?
'Tis thou that rigg'st the Barke, and plow'st the Fome,
Setlest admired reuerence in a Slaue,
To thee be worshipt, and thy Saints for aye:
Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay.
Fit I meet them

   Poet. Haile worthy Timon

   Pain. Our late Noble Master

   Timon. Haue I once liu'd
To see two honest men?
  Poet. Sir:
Hauing often of your open Bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retyr'd, your Friends falne off,
Whose thankelesse Natures (O abhorred Spirits)
Not all the Whippes of Heauen, are large enough.
What, to you,
Whose Starre-like Noblenesse gaue life and influence
To their whole being? I am rapt, and cannot couet
The monstrous bulke of this Ingratitude
With any size of words

   Timon. Let it go,
Naked men may see't the better:
You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them best seene, and knowne

   Pain. He, and my selfe
Haue trauail'd in the great showre of your guifts,
And sweetly felt it

   Timon. I, you are honest man

   Painter. We are hither come
To offer you our seruice

   Timon. Most honest men:
Why how shall I requite you?
Can you eate Roots, and drinke cold water, no?
  Both. What we can do,
Wee'l do to do you seruice

   Tim. Y'are honest men,
Y'haue heard that I haue Gold,
I am sure you haue, speake truth, y'are honest men

   Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my Friend, nor I

   Timon. Good honest men: Thou draw'st a counterfet
Best in all Athens, th'art indeed the best,
Thou counterfet'st most liuely

   Pain. So, so, my Lord

   Tim. E'ne so sir as I say. And for thy fiction,
Why thy Verse swels with stuffe so fine and smooth,
That thou art euen Naturall in thine Art.
But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)
I must needs say you haue a little fault,
Marry 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
You take much paines to mend

   Both. Beseech your Honour
To make it knowne to vs

   Tim. You'l take it ill

   Both. Most thankefully, my Lord

   Timon. Will you indeed?
  Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord

   Tim. There's neuer a one of you but trusts a Knaue,
That mightily deceiues you

   Both. Do we, my Lord?
  Tim. I, and you heare him cogge,
See him dissemble,
Know his grosse patchery, loue him, feede him,
Keepe in your bosome, yet remaine assur'd
That he's a made-vp-Villaine

   Pain. I know none such, my Lord

   Poet. Nor I

   Timon. Looke you,
I loue you well, Ile giue you Gold
Rid me these Villaines from your companies;
Hang them, or stab them, drowne them in a draught,
Confound them by some course, and come to me,
Ile giue 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 a part, all single, and alone,
Yet an arch Villaine keepes him company:
If where thou art, two Villaines shall not be,
Come not neere him. If thou would'st not recide
But where one Villaine is, then him abandon.
Hence, packe, there's Gold, you came for Gold ye slaues:
You haue worke for me; there's payment, hence,
You are an Alcumist, make Gold of that:
Out Rascall dogges.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, and two Senators.

  Stew. It is vaine that you would speake with Timon:
For he is set so onely to himselfe,
That nothing but himselfe, which lookes like man,
Is friendly with him

   1.Sen. Bring vs to his Caue.
It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
To speake with Timon

   2.Sen. At all times alike
Men are not still the same: 'twas Time and Greefes
That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand,
Offering the Fortunes of his former dayes,
The former man may make him: bring vs to him
And chanc'd it as it may

   Stew. Heere is his Caue:
Peace and content be heere. Lord Timon, Timon,
Looke out, and speake to Friends: Th' Athenians
By two of their most reuerend Senate greet thee:
Speake to them Noble Timon.
Enter Timon out of his Caue.

  Tim. Thou Sunne that comforts burne,
Speake and be hang'd:
For each true word, a blister, and each false
Be as a Cantherizing to the root o'th' Tongue,
Consuming it with speaking

   1 Worthy Timon

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

   1 The Senators of Athens, greet thee Timon

   Tim. I thanke them,
And would send them backe the plague,
Could I but catch it for them

   1 O forget
What we are sorry for our selues in thee:
The Senators, with one consent of loue,
Intreate thee backe to Athens, who haue thought
On speciall Dignities, which vacant lye
For thy best vse and wearing

   2 They confesse
Toward thee, forgetfulnesse too generall grosse;
Which now the publike Body, which doth sildome
Play the recanter, feeling in it selfe
A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall
Of it owne fall, restraining ayde to Timon,
And send forth vs, to make their sorrowed render,
Together, with a recompence more fruitfull
Then their offence can weigh downe by the Dramme,
I euen such heapes and summes of Loue and Wealth,
As shall to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the figures of their loue,
Euer to read them thine

   Tim. You witch me in it;
Surprize me to the very brinke of teares;
Lend me a Fooles heart, and a womans eyes,
And Ile beweepe these comforts, worthy Senators

   1 Therefore so please thee to returne with vs,
And of our Athens, thine and ours to take
The Captainship, thou shalt be met with thankes,
Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name
Liue with Authoritie: so soone we shall driue backe
Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
Who like a Bore too sauage, doth root vp
His Countries peace

   2 And shakes his threatning Sword
Against the walles of Athens

   1 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 sacke faire Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by'th' Beards,
Giuing our holy Virgins to the staine
Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd warre:
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speakes it,
In pitty 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 Kniues care not,
While you haue throats to answer. For my selfe,
There's not a whittle, in th' vnruly Campe,
But I do prize it at my loue, before
The reuerends Throat in Athens. So I leaue you
To the protection of the prosperous Gods,
As Theeues to Keepers

   Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine

   Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
It will be seene to morrow. My long sicknesse
Of Health, and Liuing, now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, liue still,
Be Alcibiades your plague; you his,
And last so long enough

   1 We speake in vaine

   Tim. But yet I loue my Country, and am not
One that reioyces in the common wracke,
As common bruite doth put it

   1 That's well spoke

   Tim. Commend me to my louing Countreymen

   1 These words become your lippes as they passe thorow
them

   2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers
In their applauding gates

   Tim. Commend me to them,
And tell them, that to ease them of their greefes,
Their feares of Hostile strokes, their Aches losses,
Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes
That Natures fragile Vessell doth sustaine
In lifes vncertaine voyage, I will some kindnes do them,
Ile teach them to preuent wilde Alcibiades wrath

   1 I like this well, he will returne againe

   Tim. I haue a Tree which growes heere in my Close,
That mine owne vse inuites me to cut downe,
And shortly must I fell it. Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that who so please
To stop Affliction, let him take his haste;
Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe,
And hang himselfe. I pray you do my greeting

   Stew. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall
Finde him

   Tim. Come not to me againe, but say to Athens,
Timon hath made his euerlasting Mansion
Vpon the Beached Verge of the salt Flood,
Who once a day with his embossed Froth
The turbulent Surge shall couer; thither come,
And let my graue-stone be your Oracle:
Lippes, let foure words go by, and Language end:
What is amisse, Plague and Infection mend.
Graues onely be mens workes, and Death their gaine;
Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne.

Exit Timon.

  1 His discontents are vnremoueably coupled to Nature

   2 Our hope in him is dead: let vs returne,
And straine what other meanes is left vnto vs
In our deere perill

   1 It requires swift foot.

Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.

  1 Thou hast painfully discouer'd: are his Files
As full as thy report?
  Mes. I haue spoke the least.
Besides his expedition promises present approach

   2 We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon

   Mes. I met a Currier, one mine ancient Friend,
Whom though in generall part we were oppos'd,
Yet our old loue made a particular force,
And made vs speake like Friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timons Caue,
With Letters of intreaty, which imported
His Fellowship i'th' cause against your City,
In part for his sake mou'd.
Enter the other Senators.

  1 Heere come our Brothers

   3 No talke of Timon, nothing of him expect,
The Enemies Drumme is heard, and fearefull scouring
Doth choake the ayre with dust: In, and prepare,
Ours is the fall I feare, our Foes the Snare.

Exeunt.

Enter a Souldier in the Woods, seeking Timon.

  Sol. By all description this should be the place.
Whose heere? Speake hoa. No answer? What is this?
Tymon is dead, who hath out-stretcht his span,
Some Beast reade this; There do's not liue a Man.
Dead sure, and this his Graue, what's on this Tomb,
I cannot read: the Charracter Ile take with wax,
Our Captaine hath in euery Figure skill;
An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes:
Before proud Athens hee's set downe by this,
Whose fall the marke of his Ambition is.
Enter.

Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens.

  Alc. Sound to this Coward, and lasciuious Towne,
Our terrible approach.

Sounds a Parly.

The Senators appeare vpon the wals.

Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time
With all Licentious measure, making your willes
The scope of Iustice. Till now, my selfe and such
As slept within the shadow of your power
Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd
Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush,
When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong
Cries (of it selfe) no more: Now breathlesse wrong,
Shall sit and pant in your great Chaires of ease,
And pursie Insolence shall breake his winde
With feare and horrid flight

   1.Sen. Noble, and young;
When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit,
Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause of feare,
We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme,
To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loues
Aboue their quantitie

   2 So did we wooe
Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue
By humble Message, and by promist meanes:
We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue
The common stroke of warre

   1 These walles of ours,
Were not erected by their hands, from whom
You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such,
That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools shold fall
For priuate faults in them

   2 Nor are they liuing
Who were the motiues that you first went out,
(Shame that they wanted, cunning in excesse)
Hath broke their hearts. March, Noble Lord,
Into our City with thy Banners spred,
By decimation and a tythed death;
If thy Reuenges hunger for that Food
Which Nature loathes, take thou the destin'd tenth,
And by the hazard of the spotted dye,
Let dye the spotted

   1 All haue not offended:
For those that were, it is not square to take
On those that are, Reuenge: Crimes, like Lands
Are not inherited, then deere Countryman,
Bring in thy rankes, but leaue without thy rage,
Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin
Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall
With those that haue offended, like a Shepheard,
Approach the Fold, and cull th' infected forth,
But kill not altogether

   2 What thou wilt,
Thou rather shalt inforce it with thy smile,
Then hew too't, with thy Sword

   1 Set but thy foot
Against our rampyr'd gates, and they shall ope:
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say thou't enter Friendly

   2 Throw thy Gloue,
Or any Token of thine Honour else,
That thou wilt vse the warres as thy redresse,
And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers
Shall make their harbour in our Towne, till wee
Haue seal'd thy full desire

   Alc. Then there's my Gloue,
Defend and open your vncharged Ports,
Those Enemies of Timons, and mine owne
Whom you your selues shall set out for reproofe,
Fall and no more; and to attone your feares
With my more Noble meaning, not a man
Shall passe his quarter, or offend the streame
Of Regular Iustice in your Citties bounds,
But shall be remedied to your publique Lawes
At heauiest answer

   Both. 'Tis most Nobly spoken

   Alc. Descend, and keepe your words.
Enter a Messenger.

  Mes. My Noble Generall, Timon is dead,
Entomb'd vpon the very hemme o'th' Sea,
And on his Grauestone, this Insculpture which
With wax I brought away: whose soft Impression
Interprets for my poore ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.

Heere lies a wretched Coarse, of wretched Soule bereft,
Seek not my name: A Plague consume you, wicked Caitifs left:
Heere lye I Timon, who aliue, all liuing men did hate,
Passe by, and curse thy fill, but passe and stay not here thy gate.
These well expresse in thee thy latter spirits:
Though thou abhorrd'st in vs our humane griefes,
Scornd'st our Braines flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye
On thy low Graue, on faults forgiuen. Dead
Is Noble Timon, of whose Memorie
Heereafter more. Bring me into your Citie,
And I will vse the Oliue, with my Sword:
Make war breed peace; make peace stint war, make each
Prescribe to other, as each others Leach.
Let our Drummes strike.

Exeunt.


FINIS.

THE ACTORS NAMES.

TYMON of Athens.
Lucius, And Lucullus, two Flattering Lords.
Appemantus, a Churlish Philosopher.
Sempronius another flattering Lord.
Alcibiades, an Athenian Captaine.
Poet.
Painter.
Ieweller.
Merchant.
Certaine Theeues.
Flaminius, one of Tymons Seruants.
Seruilius, another.
Caphis.
Varro.
Philo.
Titus.
Lucius.
Hortensis Seuerall Seruants to Vsurers.
Ventigius. one of Tymons false Friends.
Cupid.
Sempronius. With diuers other Seruants, And Attendants.

THE LIFE OF TYMON OF ATHENS.

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