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 'It observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus:
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome,
To knaves and all approachers: 'T is most just
That thou turn rascal; hadst 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 thy-
self;

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 moist 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 wreak ful 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.

Apem.

Tim.

Ay.

What! a knave too?
Apem. If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 't were well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou 'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never complete;

The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.

Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.
Tim. 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.
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 plung'd thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;

The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows;-I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in 't. Why shouldst thou hate

men?

They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
To some she beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone?
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,

I, that I am one now;

Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
I'd 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. Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offering him something. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

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

Apem. What wouldst thou have to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. Apem. Here is no use for gold. Tim.

The best and truest:

For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. Apem. Where ly'st o' nights, Timon?

T.m.

Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemautus ? Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

Tim. 'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!

Apem. Where wouldst thou send it?

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it.

Tim. On what I hate I feed not.
Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now.

What man

didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myself.

Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.

Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts? Apem. Ay, Timon.

if

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would be guile thee if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accused by the ass: thou wert the ass, thy dullness would torment thee; and still thou livedst but as a breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury wert thou a bear, thou 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 thy a Curiosity-niceness, delicacy.

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!

Apem. 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.

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

Apem. Yonder comes a poet and a painter: The plazue of 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.

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

Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
Tim. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.
Apem. A plague on thee, thou art too bad to curse.
Tim. All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
Apem. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.
Tim. If I name thee.-

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

Tim. Apem.

Tim.

Away, [Throws a stone at him.

Toad! Rogue, rogue, rogue! [APEMANTUS retreats backward, as going. I am sick of this false world; and will love nought But even the mere necessities upon 't. Then, Timor, presently prepare thy grave; Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat Thy grave-stone daily make thine epitaph, That death in me at others' lives may laugh. O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce

[Looking on the gold.
Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
Thon ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That solder'st close impossibilities,

And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!

Apem.

'Would 't were so ;—

But not till I am dead!-I'll say, thou hast gold:

Thon wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Throng'd to?

Tim.

Apem.

Ay. Tim. Thy back, I prithee. Apem. Live, and love thy misery! Tim. Long live so, and so die!-I am quit. [Exit APEMANTUS. More things like men ?-Eat, Timon, and abhor them. Enter Banditti.

1 Ban. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder: The mere want of gold, and the falling from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Ban. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. 3 Ban. Let us make the assay upon him. If he care

a Touch touchsione.

not for 't, he will supply us easily: If he covetously reserve it, how shall 's get it?

2 Ban. True; for he bears it not about him, 't is hid. 1 Ban. Is not this he? Banditti. Where?

2 Ban. T is his description.
3 Ban. He; I know him.
Banditti. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves?

Banditti. Soldiers, not thieves.
Tim. Both too, and women's sons.

Banditti. We are not thieves, but men that much do

Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth a hundred springs :
The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips;
The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?
Í Ban. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes:

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 of the grape,
Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging. Trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays

More than you rob. Take wealth and lives together;
Do villainy, do, since you protest to do 't
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 tire she snatches from the sun:
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
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 uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves: away;
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 not less, for this

I give you; and gold confound you howsoever!
Amen.

[TIMON retires to his cave. 3 Ban. He has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

1 Ban. T is in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

2 Ban. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

1 Ban. Let us first see peace in Athens: There is no time so miserable but a man may be true.

[Exeunt Banditti.

yon despis'd and ruinous man my lord? Full of decay and failing? O monument 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 enas:

How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'a to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
He has caught me in his eye: I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
Still serve him with my life.-My dearest master'
TIMON comes forward from his cave.
Tim. Away! what art thou?
Flav.

Have you forgot me, sir? Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men ; Then, if thou grant'st thou 'rt a man, I have forgot thee. Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.

Tim. Then I know thee not.

I ne'er had honest man about me; ay, all

I kept were knaves to serve in meat to villains.

Flav. The gods are witness,

Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you.

And thou redeem'st thyself: But all, save thee,
I fell with curses.

Methinks, thou art more honest now than wise;
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,)
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,

If not a usuring kindness; and as rich men deal gifts, Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late; 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, My most honour'd lord,

For any benefit that points to me,

For this one wish, That you bad power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich yourself.

Tim. Look thee, 't is so!-Thoa 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:
But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar: give to dogs

What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow them, Debts wither them to nothing: Be men like blasted woods,

And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
And so, farewell, and thrive.

Flav. O, let me stay, and comfort you my master.
Tim. If thou hat'st curses,

Stay not: fly, whilst thou art bless'd and free; Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. [Exeunt severally

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

Pain. Certain Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'T is said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.

Pain. Nothing else you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore, 't is not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in us; and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travel for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having.

Poet. What have you now to present unto him? Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece.

Poet. I must serve him so too; tell him of an intent that 's coming toward him.

Pain. Good as the best.

Promising is the very air o' the time; It opens the eyes of expectation:

Performance is ever the duller for his act;
And, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people,
The deed of saying is quite out of use.
To promise is most courtly and fashionable:
Performance is a kind of will, or testament,
Which argues a great sickness in his judgment
That makes it.

Tim. Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint & man so bad as is thyself.

Poet. I am thinking

What I shall say I have provided for him:
It must be a personating of himself:
A satire against the softness of prosperity;
With a discovery of the infinite flatteries
That follow youth and opulency.

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

Poet. Nay, let's seek him :
Then do we sin against our own estate,
When we may profit meet, and come too late.
Pain. True;

When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple,

Tim. Let it go naked, men may see 't the better:
You, that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them best seen, and known.

Pain.
He, and myself,
Have travell'd in the great shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.

Ay, you are honest men.

Tim.
Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service.
Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite
you?

Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.

Both. What we can do, we 'll do, to do you service. Tim. You are honest men: You have heard that I have gold;

I am sure you have: speak truth: you 're honest men. Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest men :-Thou draw'st a counterfeit Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively.

Pain.

So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so, sir, as I say:- -And, for thy fiction, [To the Poet. Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth That thou art even natural in thine art.But, for all this, my honest-natur'd friends, I must needs say you have a little fault : Marry, 't is not monstrous in you; neither wish I You take much pains to mend.

Both.

Beseech your honour, You'll take it ill. Both. Most thankfully, my lord.

To make it known to us.

Tim.

Tim.

Will you, indeed?

Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, Rid me these villains from your companies: Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught, Confound them by some course, and come to me, I'll give you gold enough.

Both. Name them, my lord, let 's know them.

Enter FLAVIUS and Two Senators.

Flav. It is vain that you would speak with Timon For he is set so only to himself,

That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.

1 Sen.

Bring us to his cave:

It is our part, and promise to the Athenians, To speak with Timon.

2 Sen.

At all times alike Men are not still the same: 'T was time, and griefs, That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer hand, Offering the fortunes of his former days, The former man may make him: Bring us to him, And chance it as it may.

Here is his cave.

Flav. Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon.

They confess, Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross : Which now the public body,-which doth seldom Play the recanter,-feeling in itself

A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And send forth us, to make their sorrowed render,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim.

You witch me in it;
Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return with us, And of our Athens (thine, and ours) to take The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,

company :

Each man apart, all single and alone,

Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.

Live with authority :-so soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades the approaches wild;

Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up