Enter TIMON, in a rage; FLAMINIUS following.
Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my
passage?

Have I been ever free, and must my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?

The place, which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, shew me an iron heart?

Luc. Serv. Put in now,

[the girdle.

Tim. Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to

Luc. Serv. Alas! my lord,-
Tim. Cut my heart in sums.

Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again,
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius; all:

I'll once more feast the rascals.

O my lord,
You only speak from your distracted soul;
There is not so much left, to furnish out

A moderate table.

I charge thee; invite them all: let in the tide
Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-The same. The Senate-House.
The Senate sitting. Enter ALCIBIADES, attended.
1 Sen. My lord, you have my voice to 't; the fault's
Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die :
Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

2 Sen. Most true; the law shall bruise him.
Alcib. Honour, health, and compassion to the
senate!

1

ACT IV. SCENE 2.]

3 Lord. I do conceive.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

Tim. Each man to his stool, with that spur as he
would to the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be
in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to
let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first
place: Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.
You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with
thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves
praised: but reserve still to give, lest your deities be
despised. Lend to each man enough, that one need
not lend to another: for, were your godheads to bor-
row of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the
meat be beloved, more than the man that gives it.
Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of vil-
lains: If there sit twelve women at the table, let
-The rest of your
a dozen of them be-as they are.-
fees, O gods, the senators of Athens, together with
them,
the common lag of people,-what is amiss
you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these
-as they are to me nothing, so in
my present friends,-
nothing bless them, and to nothing they are welcome.
Uncover, dogs, and lap.

(The dishes uncovered, are full of warm water.)
Some speak. What does his lordship mean?
Some other. I know not.

Tim. May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends! smoke, and luke-warm

water

Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;
Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces

(Throwing water in their faces.)
Your reeking villany. Live loath'd, and long,
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,
Cap-and-knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!
Of man, and beast, the infinite malady
Crust you quite o'er?-What, dost thou go?
Soft, take thy physic first,-thou too, and thou :-
[Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out.
borrow none.-
Stay, I will lend thee money,
What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,
Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
Burn, house; sink, Athens! henceforth hated be
[Exit.
Of Timon,`man, and all humanity.
Re-enter the Lords, with other Lords and Senators.
[fury?
1 Lord. How now, my lords?
2 Lord. Know you the quality of lord Timon's
3 Lord. Pish! did you see my cap?
4 Lord. I have lost my gown.

3 Lord. He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. He gave me a jewel the other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat:- Did you see my jewel?

4 Lord. Did you see my cap?
2 Lord. Here 'tis,

4 Lord. Here lies my gown.

1 Lord. Let's make no stay.
2 Lord. Lord Timon's mad.
I feel't upon my bones.
3 Lord
4 Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next day
[Exeunt.

stones.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Without the Walls of Athens.

Enter TIMON.

Tim. Let me look back upon thee, O thou wall,
That girdlest in those wolves! Dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in children! slaves, and fools,
Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
And minister in their steads! to general filths
Convert o'the instant, green virginity!
Do't in your parent's eyes! bankrupts hold fast;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants,
steal!

[men,

Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law! maid, to thy master's bed;
Pluck the lin'd crutch from the old limping sire,
Thy mistress is o'the brothel! son of sixteen,
With it beat out his brains! piety, and fear,
Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
And yet confusion live!-Plagues, incident to
On Athens, ripe for stroke! thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners! lust and liberty
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth;
That'gainst the stream of virtue they way strive,
And drown themselves in riot! itches, blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop
Be general leprosy! breath infect breath;
That their society, as their friendship, may
Be merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But nakedness, thou détestable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns!
Timon will to the woods; where he shall find
The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
The Athenians both within and out that wall!
The gods confound (hear me, ye good gods all,)
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
To the whole race of mankind, high, and low!
Amen.

[Exit. SCENE II.—Athens. A Room in Timon's House.

Enter FLAVIUS, witht wo or three Servants.

1 Serv. Hear you, master steward, where's our master?

Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?
Flav. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to
you?

Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
I am as poor as you.

Such a house broke!
1 Serv.
So noble a master fallen! All gone! and not
One friend, to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him!

2 Serv.

As we do turn our backs
From our companion, thrown into his grave;
So his familiars to his buried fortunes
Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd: and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,

With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone.-More of our fellows.

Enter other Servants.

Flav. All broken implements of a ruin'd house.
3 Serv. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our bark;
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.

Good fellows all,
Flav.
The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
We have seen better days. Let each take some;
(Giving them money.)
Not one word more:
parting poor.

Nay, put out all your hands.
Thus part we rich in sorrow,

[Exeunt Servants.
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory? or to live
To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
But in a dream of friendship?

But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart;
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
My dearest lord,-bless'd, to be most accurs'd,
Rich, only to be wretched ;-thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful seat
Of monstrous friends; nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it.
I'll follow, and inquire him out:

I'll serve his mind with my best will;

I know thee well;

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

I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;

Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,

Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit. For all her cherubin look.

SCENE III.-The Woods.
Enter TIMON.

Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the

earth

Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,-
Whose procreation, residence, and birth, [tunes;
Scarce is dividant,-touch them with several for-
The greater scorns the lesser: Not nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
But by comtempt of nature.

Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour.

It is the pasture lards the brother's sides, [dares,
The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who
In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, This man's a flatterer? if one be,
So are they all; for every grize of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique ;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
Destruction fang mankind!-Earth, yield me roots!
(Digging.)

Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison! What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens!
Thus much of this, will make black, white; foul,
fair;
[valiant.
Wrong, right; base, noble; old, young; coward,
Ha, you gods why this? What this, you gods?
Why this

Will lug your priests and servants from your sides;
Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads:
This yellow slave

Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench: this is it,
That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
She, whom the spital-house, and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature.-(March afar off.)—Ha! a
drum?-Thou'rt quick,

But yet I'll bury thee: Thou'lt go, strong thief,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand :-
Nay, stay thou out for earnest.

(Keeping some gold.) Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike

manner: PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA.

Alcib.
What art thou there?
Speak.
[heart,
Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy
For shewing me again the eyes of man!

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

Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this change?
Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcib.

Noble Timon, What friendship may I do thee?

Tim.

None, but to

[If

Maintain my opinion.
Alcib.
What is it, Timon?
Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none:
Thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for
Thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee,
For thou'rt a man!

Alcib. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
Tim. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.
Alcib. I see them now; then was a blessed time.
Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the
world
Voic'd so regardfully?
Tim.

Timan. Yes.

Art thou Timandra?

Tim. Be a whore still! they love thee not, that

use thee;

Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
For tubs, and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth
To the tub-fast, and the diet.

Timan.
Hang thee, monster!
Alcib. Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.-
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band: I have heard, and griev'd,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,
Tim. I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alcib. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Ti-
[trouble?
Tim. How dost thou pity him, whom thou dost
I had rather be alone.

mon.

Alcib.
Why, fare thee well:
Here's some gold for thee.
Tim.

Keep't, I cannot eat it. Alcib. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,

Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?
Alcib.
Ay, Timon, and have cause.
Tim. The gods confound them all i'thy conquest;

and

Thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!
Alcib.
Why me, Timon?

Tim. That,

By killing villains, tbou wast born to conquer
My country.

Put up thy gold; Go on,-here's gold,—go on ;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the sick air: Let not thy sword skip one:
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;

SCENE 3.]

TIMON OF ATHENS.

He's an usurer: Strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself's a bawd: Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
[babe,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
Set them down horrible traitors: Spare not the
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their
mercy;

Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse: Swear against objects;
thine ears,
and on thine eyes;
Put armour on
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor
babes,

Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers:
Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.
Alcib. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou
giv'st me,

Not all thy counsel.

[upon thee!
Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse
Phr. & Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon:
Hast thou more?

Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable,-
Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear,
Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues,
The immortal gods that hear you, spare your oaths,
I'll trust to your conditions: Be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turncoats: Yet may your pains, six
months,

Be quite contrary: And thatch your poor thin roofs
With burdens of the dead;-some that were hang'd,
No matter:-wear them, betray with them: whore
still;

Paint, till a horse way mire upon your face:
A pox of wrinkles!

Phr.& Timan. Well, more gold;-What then?
Believ't, that we'll do any thing for gold.

Tim. Consumption sow

In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound bis quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee,
Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
ruffians bald;

And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you: Plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection.-There's more gold
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

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

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

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

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

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

Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
Call'st thou that harm?
Alcib.

Tim. Men daily find it such. Get thee away,
And take thy beagles with thee.

Alcib.

Strike.

We but offend him.

[Drum beats. Exeunt Alcibiades, Phrynia, and

Timandra.

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

ness,

Should yet be hungry!-Common mother, thou,
(Digging.)
Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm,
With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven,
Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented!-0, a root,-Dear thanks!
Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts,
his pure mind,
And morsels unctuous, greases
That from it all consideration slips!

Enter APEMANTUS.

More man? Plague! plague!

Apem. I was directed hither: men report,
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a
dog,
Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
From change of fortune. Why this spade? this
place?

This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
Shame not these woods,
That ever Timon was.
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus ;
like tapsters, that bid wel-
Thou gav'st thine ears,

come,

To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just,
That thou turn rascal'; had'st thou wealth again,
Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like

thyself;

That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
A madman so long, now a fool: What, think'st
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moss'd

trees,

That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip, when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,―
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee;

O! thou shalt find

Tim.

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

Why?

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

To vex thee.

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

Apem.

Ay.