| ACT IV SCENE III | Woods and cave, near the seashore. | |
| [Enter TIMON, from the cave] |
| TIMON | 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, |
| Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; | 5 |
| The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, |
| To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, |
| But by contempt of nature. |
| Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; |
| The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, | 10 |
| The beggar native honour. |
| It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, |
| The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, |
| In purity of manhood stand upright, |
| And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, | 15 |
| So are they all; for every grise 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 | 20 |
| 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? | 25 |
| 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, |
| Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. |
| Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this | 30 |
| 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 accursed, |
| Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves | 35 |
| 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 | 40 |
| To the April day again. Come, damned earth, |
| Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds |
| Among the route of nations, I will make thee |
| Do thy right nature. |
[March afar off] |
| Ha! a drum? Thou'rt quick, | 45 |
| 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
] |
| ALCIBIADES | What art thou there? speak. |
| TIMON | A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, | 50 |
| For showing me again the eyes of man! |
| ALCIBIADES | What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, |
| That art thyself a man? |
| TIMON | I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. |
| For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, | 55 |
| That I might love thee something. |
| ALCIBIADES | I know thee well; |
| But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. |
| TIMON | I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, |
| I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; | 60 |
| 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, |
| For all her cherubim look. | 65 |
| PHRYNIA | Thy lips rot off! |
| TIMON | I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns |
| To thine own lips again. |
| ALCIBIADES | How came the noble Timon to this change? |
| TIMON | As the moon does, by wanting light to give: | 70 |
| But then renew I could not, like the moon; |
| There were no suns to borrow of. |
| ALCIBIADES | Noble Timon, |
| What friendship may I do thee? |
| TIMON | None, but to | 75 |
| Maintain my opinion. |
| ALCIBIADES | What is it, Timon? |
| TIMON | Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou |
| wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art |
| a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for | 80 |
| thou art a man! |
| ALCIBIADES | I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. |
| TIMON | Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. |
| ALCIBIADES | I see them now; then was a blessed time. |
| TIMON | As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. | 85 |
| TIMANDRA | Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world |
| Voiced so regardfully? |
| TIMON | Art thou Timandra? |
| TIMANDRA | Yes. |
| TIMON | Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; | 90 |
| 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. |
| TIMANDRA | Hang thee, monster! | 95 |
| ALCIBIADES | 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 grieved, | 100 |
| How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, |
| Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, |
| But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- |
| TIMON | I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. |
| ALCIBIADES | I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. | 105 |
| TIMON | How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? |
| I had rather be alone. |
| ALCIBIADES | Why, fare thee well: |
| Here is some gold for thee. |
| TIMON | Keep it, I cannot eat it. | 110 |
| ALCIBIADES | When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- |
| TIMON | Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? |
| ALCIBIADES | Ay, Timon, and have cause. |
| TIMON | The gods confound them all in thy conquest; |
| And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! | 115 |
| ALCIBIADES | Why me, Timon? |
| TIMON | That, by killing of villains, |
| Thou wast born to conquer my country. |
| Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; |
| Be as a planetary plague, when Jove | 120 |
| Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison |
| In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: |
| Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; |
| He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; |
| It is her habit only that is honest, | 125 |
| Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek |
| Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, |
| That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, |
| Are not within the leaf of pity writ, |
| But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, | 130 |
| Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; |
| Think it a bastard, whom the oracle |
| Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, |
| And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; |
| Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; | 135 |
| 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 soldiers: |
| Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, |
| Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. | 140 |
| ALCIBIADES | Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou |
| givest me, |
| Not all thy counsel. |
| TIMON | Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse |
| upon thee! | 145 |
| TIMANDRA | Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? |
| TIMON | 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 | 150 |
| 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; | 155 |
| 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 burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, |
| No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; | 160 |
| Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, |
| A pox of wrinkles! |
| TIMANDRA | Well, more gold: what then? |
| Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. |
| TIMON | Consumptions sow | 165 |
| 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 his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, |
| That scolds against the quality of flesh, | 170 |
| 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; | 175 |
| 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, | 180 |
| And ditches grave you all! |
| TIMANDRA | More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. |
| TIMON | More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. |
| ALCIBIADES | Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: |
| If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. | 185 |
| TIMON | If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. |
| ALCIBIADES | I never did thee harm. |
| TIMON | Yes, thou spokest well of me. |
| ALCIBIADES | Call'st thou that harm? |
| TIMON | Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take | 190 |
| Thy beagles with thee. |
| ALCIBIADES | We but offend him. Strike! |
| [
Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA,
and TIMANDRA
] |
| TIMON | That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, |
| Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, |
[Digging] |
| Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, | 195 |
| 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 | 200 |
| 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! | 205 |
| 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!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- |
| Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; | 210 |
| Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts |
| And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, |
| That from it all consideration slips! |
[Enter APEMANTUS] |
| More man? plague, plague! |
| APEMANTUS | I was directed hither: men report | 215 |
| Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. |
| TIMON | 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, |
| Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! |
| APEMANTUS | This is in thee a nature but infected; |
| A poor unmanly melancholy sprung | 220 |
| 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 diseased perfumes, and have forgot |
| That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, | 225 |
| 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, | 230 |
| And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; |
| Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome |
| To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just |
| That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, |
| Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. | 235 |
| TIMON | Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. |
| APEMANTUS | Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; |
| A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st |
| That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, |
| Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, | 240 |
| That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, |
| And skip where 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 | 245 |
| Whose naked natures live in an the spite |
| Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, |
| To the conflicting elements exposed, |
| Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; |
| O, thou shalt find-- | 250 |
| TIMON | A fool of thee: depart. |
| APEMANTUS | I love thee better now than e'er I did. |
| TIMON | I hate thee worse. |
| APEMANTUS | Why? |
| TIMON | Thou flatter'st misery. | 255 |
| APEMANTUS | I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. |
| TIMON | Why dost thou seek me out? |
| APEMANTUS | To vex thee. |
| TIMON | Always a villain's office or a fool's. |
| Dost please thyself in't? | 260 |
| APEMANTUS | Ay. |
| TIMON | What! a knave too? |
| APEMANTUS | If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on |
| To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou |
| Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, | 265 |
| Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery |
| Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: |
| The one is filling still, never complete; |
| The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, |
| Hath a distracted and most wretched being, | 270 |
| Worse than the worst, content. |
| Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. |
| TIMON | Not by his breath that is more miserable. |
| Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm |
| With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. | 275 |
| Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded |
| The sweet degrees that this brief world affords |
| To such as may the passive drugs of it |
| Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself |
| In general riot; melted down thy youth | 280 |
| In different beds of lust; and never learn'd |
| The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd |
| The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, |
| Who had the world as my confectionary, |
| The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men | 285 |
| At duty, more than I could frame employment, |
| That numberless upon me stuck as leaves |
| Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush |
| Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare |
| For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, | 290 |
| That never knew but better, is some burden: |
| Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time |
| Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? |
| They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? |
| If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, | 295 |
| Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff |
| To some she beggar and compounded thee |
| Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! |
| If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, |
| Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. | 300 |
| APEMANTUS | Art thou proud yet? |
| TIMON | Ay, that I am not thee. |
| APEMANTUS | I, that I was |
| No prodigal. |
| TIMON | I, that I am one now: | 305 |
| Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, |
| I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. |
| That the whole life of Athens were in this! |
| Thus would I eat it. |
| [Eating a root] |
| APEMANTUS | Here; I will mend thy feast. | 310 |
| [Offering him a root] |
| TIMON | First mend my company, take away thyself. |
| APEMANTUS | So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. |
| TIMON | 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; |
| if not, I would it were. |
| APEMANTUS | What wouldst thou have to Athens? | 315 |
| TIMON | Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, |
| Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. |
| APEMANTUS | Here is no use for gold. |
| TIMON | The best and truest; |
| For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. | 320 |
| APEMANTUS | Where liest o' nights, Timon? |
| TIMON | Under that's above me. |
| Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? |
| APEMANTUS | Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat |
| it. | 325 |
| TIMON | Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! |
| APEMANTUS | Where wouldst thou send it? |
| TIMON | To sauce thy dishes. |
| APEMANTUS | The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the |
| extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt | 330 |
| and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much |
| curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art |
| despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for |
| thee, eat it. |
| TIMON | On what I hate I feed not. | 335 |
| APEMANTUS | Dost hate a medlar? |
| TIMON | Ay, though it look like thee. |
| APEMANTUS | An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst |
| have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou |
| ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? | 340 |
| TIMON | Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou |
| ever know beloved? |
| APEMANTUS | Myself. |
| TIMON | I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a |
| dog. | 345 |
| APEMANTUS | What things in the world canst thou nearest compare |
| to thy flatterers? |
| TIMON | Women nearest; but men, men are the things |
| themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, |
| Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? | 350 |
| APEMANTUS | Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. |
| TIMON | Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of |
| men, and remain a beast with the beasts? |
| APEMANTUS | Ay, Timon. |
| TIMON | A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' | 355 |
| attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would |
| beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would |
| eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would |
| suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by |
| the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would | 360 |
| torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a |
| breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy |
| greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst |
| hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the |
| unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and | 365 |
| make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert |
| thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: |
| wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the |
| leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to |
| the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on | 370 |
| thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy |
| defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that |
| were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art |
| thou already, that seest not thy loss in |
| transformation! | 375 |
| APEMANTUS | If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou |
| mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of |
| Athens is become a forest of beasts. |
| TIMON | How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? |
| APEMANTUS | Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of | 380 |
| company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it |
| and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll |
| see thee again. |
| TIMON | When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be |
| welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. | 385 |
| APEMANTUS | Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. |
| TIMON | Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! |
| APEMANTUS | A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. |
| TIMON | All villains that do stand by thee are pure. |
| APEMANTUS | There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. | 390 |
| TIMON | If I name thee. |
| I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. |
| APEMANTUS | I would my tongue could rot them off! |
| TIMON | Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! |
| Choler does kill me that thou art alive; | 395 |
| I swound to see thee. |
| APEMANTUS | Would thou wouldst burst! |
| TIMON | Away, |
| Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose |
| A stone by thee. | 400 |
| [Throws a stone at him] |
| APEMANTUS | Beast! |
| TIMON | Slave! |
| APEMANTUS | Toad! |
| TIMON | Rogue, rogue, rogue! |
| I am sick of this false world, and will love nought | 405 |
| But even the mere necessities upon 't. |
| Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; |
| Lie where the light foam the sea may beat |
| Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, |
| That death in me at others' lives may laugh. | 410 |
[To the gold] |
| O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce |
| 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler |
| Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! |
| Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, |
| Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow | 415 |
| That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, |
| That solder'st close impossibilities, |
| And makest them kiss! that speak'st with |
| every tongue, |
| To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! | 420 |
| Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue |
| Set them into confounding odds, that beasts |
| May have the world in empire! |
| APEMANTUS | Would 'twere so! |
| But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: | 425 |
| Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. |
| TIMON | Throng'd to! |
| APEMANTUS | Ay. |
| TIMON | Thy back, I prithee. |
| APEMANTUS | Live, and love thy misery. | 430 |
| TIMON | Long live so, and so die. |
[Exit APEMANTUS] |
| I am quit. |
| Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. |
| [Enter Banditti] |
| First Bandit | Where should he have this gold? It is some poor |
| fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the | 435 |
| mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his |
| friends, drove him into this melancholy. |
| Second Bandit | It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. |
| Third Bandit | Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not |
| for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously | 440 |
| reserve it, how shall's get it? |
| Second Bandit | True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. |
| First Bandit | Is not this he? |
| Banditti | Where? |
| Second Bandit | 'Tis his description. | 445 |
| Third Bandit | He; I know him. |
| Banditti | Save thee, Timon. |
| TIMON | Now, thieves? |
| Banditti | Soldiers, not thieves. |
| TIMON | Both too; and women's sons. | 450 |
| Banditti | We are not thieves, but men that much do want. |
| TIMON | Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. |
| Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; |
| Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; |
| The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; | 455 |
| The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush |
| Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? |
| First Bandit | We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, |
| As beasts and birds and fishes. |
| TIMON | Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; | 460 |
| You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con |
| That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not |
| In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft |
| In limited professions. Rascal thieves, |
| Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, | 465 |
| Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, |
| And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; |
| His antidotes are poison, and he slays |
| Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; |
| Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, | 470 |
| Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. |
| The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction |
| Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, |
| And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: |
| The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves | 475 |
| The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, |
| That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen |
| From general excrement: each thing's a thief: |
| The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power |
| Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, | 480 |
| Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: |
| All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, |
| Break open shops; nothing can you steal, |
| But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this |
| I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. | 485 |
| Third Bandit | Has almost charmed me from my profession, by |
| persuading me to it. |
| First Bandit | 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises |
| us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. |
| Second Bandit | I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. | 490 |
| First Bandit | Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time |
| so miserable but a man may be true. |
| [Exeunt Banditti] |
| [Enter FLAVIUS] |
| FLAVIUS | O you gods! |
| Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? |
| Full of decay and failing? O monument | 495 |
| And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! |
| What an alteration of honour |
| Has desperate want made! |
| What viler thing upon the earth than friends |
| Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! | 500 |
| How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, |
| When man was wish'd to love his enemies! |
| Grant I may ever love, and rather woo |
| Those that would mischief me than those that do! |
| Has caught me in his eye: I will present | 505 |
| My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, |
| Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! |
| TIMON | Away! what art thou? |
| FLAVIUS | Have you forgot me, sir? |
| TIMON | Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; | 510 |
| Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. |
| FLAVIUS | An honest poor servant of yours. |
| TIMON | Then I know thee not: |
| I never had honest man about me, I; all |
| I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. | 515 |
| FLAVIUS | The gods are witness, |
| Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief |
| For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. |
| TIMON | What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I |
| love thee, | 520 |
| Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st |
| Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give |
| But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: |
| Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! |
| FLAVIUS | I beg of you to know me, good my lord, | 525 |
| To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts |
| To entertain me as your steward still. |
| TIMON | Had I a steward |
| So true, so just, and now so comfortable? |
| It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. | 530 |
| Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man |
| Was born of woman. |
| Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, |
| You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim |
| One honest man--mistake me not--but one; | 535 |
| No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. |
| How fain would I have hated all mankind! |
| And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, |
| I fell with curses. |
| Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; | 540 |
| For, by oppressing and betraying me, |
| Thou mightst have sooner got another service: |
| For many so arrive at second masters, |
| Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- |
| For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- | 545 |
| Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, |
| If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, |
| Expecting in return twenty for one? |
| FLAVIUS | No, my most worthy master; in whose breast |
| Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: | 550 |
| You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: |
| Suspect still comes where an estate is least. |
| That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, |
| Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, |
| Care of your food and living; and, believe it, | 555 |
| My most honour'd lord, |
| For any benefit that points to me, |
| Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange |
| For this one wish, that you had power and wealth |
| To requite me, by making rich yourself. | 560 |
| TIMON | Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, |
| Here, take: the gods out of my misery |
| Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; |
| But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; |
| Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, | 565 |
| But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, |
| Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs |
| What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, |
| Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like |
| blasted woods, | 570 |
| And may diseases lick up their false bloods! |
| And so farewell and thrive. |
| FLAVIUS | O, let me stay, |
| And comfort you, my master. |
| TIMON | If thou hatest curses, | 575 |
| Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: |
| Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. |
| [Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave] |
Sources for Timon of Athens