The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

Luc. Serv. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him:

You must consider, that a prodigal course
Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.
I fear,

"Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse;
That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet
Find little.

Phi.

I am of your fear for that.

Tit. I'll show you how to observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money.

Hor. Most true, he does. Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, For which I wait for money. Hor. It is against my heart. Luc. Serv.

Mark, how strange it shows, Timon in this should pay more than he owes : And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, And send for money for 'em.

Hor. I am weary of this charge, the gods can witness :

I know, my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,
And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.
1 Var. Serv. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns:
What's yours?

Luc. Serv. Five thousand mine.

1 Var. Serv. 'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sum,

Your master's confidence was above mine;
Else, surely, his had equall'd.

Enter Flaminius.

Tit. One of lord Timon's men.

Luc. Serv. Flaminius! sir, a word: 'Pray, is

my lord ready to come forth?

Flam. No, indeed, he is not.

Tit. We attend his lordship; 'pray, signify so much.

Flam. I need not tell him that; he knows, you are too diligent. [Exit Flaminius.

Enter Flavius in a cloak, muffled.

Luc. Serv. Ha! is not that his steward muffled so?
He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
Tit. Do you hear, sir?

1 Var. Serv. By your leave, sir,-
Flav. What do you ask of me, my friend?
Tit. We wait for certain money here, sir.
Flav.

Ay,

If money were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough. Why then preferr'd you not
Your sums and bills, when your false masters eat
Of my lord's meat? Then they could smile, and
fawn

Upon his debts, and take down th' interest
Into their gluttonous maws. You do yourselves

but wrong,

(1) i. e. Like him in blaze and splendour. (2) Commission, employment.

To stir me up; let me pass quietly:
Believ't, my lord and I have made an end;
I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
Luc. Serv. Ay, but this answer will not serve.
Flav.
If 'twill not,

'Tis not so base as you; for you serve knaves.

[Exit.

1 Var. Serv. How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter?

2 Var. Serv. No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? such may rail against great buildings. Enter Servilius.

Tit. O, here's Servilius; now we shall know
Some answer.
Ser.
If I might beseech you, gentlemen,
To repair some other hour, I should much
Derive from it for, take it on my soul,
My lord leans wond'rously to discontent.
His comfortable temper has forsook him;
He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
Luc. Serv. Many do keep their chambers, are
not sick :

And, if it be so far beyond his health,
Methinks, he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a clear way to the gods.

Ser.

Good gods!

Tit. We cannot take this for an answer, sir. Flam. [Within.] Servilius, help!-my lord! my lord!

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, show me an iron heart?
Luc. Serv. Put in now, Titus.
Tit. My lord, here is my bill.
Luc. Serv. Here's mine.

Hor. Serv. And mine, my lord.

Both Var. Serv. And ours, my lord.

Phi. All our bills.

Tim. Knock me down with 'em :3 cleave me to

1 Sen. Now, captain?

Alcib. I am an humble suitor to your virtues;
For pity is the virtue of the law,

And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
It pleases time, and fortune, to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed, do plunge into it.
He is a man, setting his fate aside,'
Of comely virtues :

Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice;
(An honour in him which buys out his fault,)
But, with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe:

And with such sober and unnoted passion2
He did behave3 his anger, ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

1 Sen. You undergo too strict a paradox,*
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:
Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When sects and factions were newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer

The worst that man can breathe; and make his

wrongs

His outsides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly;
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,

To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis, to hazard life for ill?
Alcib. My lord,-

1 Sen. You cannot make gross sins look clear; To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

Alcib. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
If I speak like a captain.-

Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threat'nings? sleep upon it,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
Without repugnancy? but if there be

(1) i. e. Putting this action of his, which was predetermined by fate, out of the question.

(2) i. e. Passion so subdued, that no spectator could note its operation.

(3) Manage, govern.

(4) You undertake a paradox too hard.

(5) What have we to do in the field.

Such valour in the bearing, what make we

Abroad? why then, women are more valiant,
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;

And th' ass, more captain than the lion; the felon,
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,

As you are great, be pitifully good:

Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;
But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just."
To be in anger, is impiety;

But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.
2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Alcib.

In vain? his service done

At Lacedæmon, and Byzantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life.
1 Sen. What's that?
Alcib.

Why, I say, my lords, h'as
enemies:

done fair service,
And slain in fight many of your
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
2 Sen. He has made too much plenty with 'em, ho
Is a sworn rioter: h'as a sin that often
Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner:
If there were no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him: in that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions: 'Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous.
1 Sen. He dies.

Alcib. Hard fate! he might have died in war.
My lords, if not for any parts in him

(Though his right arm might purchase his own

time,

And be in debt to none,) yet, more to move you,
Take my deserts to his, and join them both:
And, for I know, your reverend ages love
Security, I'll pawn my victories, all
My honour to you, upon his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive't in valiant gore;
For law is strict, and war is nothing more.

1 Sen. We are for law, he dies; urge it no more,
On height of our displeasure: Friend, or brother,
He forfeits his own blood, that spills another.
Alcib. Must it be so? it must not be. My lords,
I do beseech you, know me.

2 Sen. How?

What?

Alcib. Call me to your remembrances.
3 Sen.
Alcib. I cannot think, but your age has forgot me ;
It could not else be, I should prove so base,
To sue, and be denied such common grace:
My wounds ache at you.

1 Sen.
Do you dare our anger?
'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect;
We banish thee for ever.

Alcib.

Banish me?
Banish your dotage; banish usury,
That makes the senate ugly,

1 Sen. If after two days shine, Athens contarı
thee,

Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell our spirit,'

He shall be executed presently.

(6) For aggravation.

[Exeunt Sen.

(7) Homicide in our own defence, by a merci ful interpretation of the law, is considered justifiable.'

(8) For dishonoured.

(9) i. e. Not to put ourselves in any tumor of rage.

Alcib. Now the gods keep you old enough; that] you may live

Only in bone, that none may look on you!

I am worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
While they have told their money, and let out
Their coin upon large interest; I myself,
Rich only in large hurts;-All those, for this?
Is this the balsam, that the usuring senate
Pours into captains' wounds? ha! banishment?
It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd;
It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
My discontented troops, and lay for hearts,'
'Tis honour, with most lands to be at odds;
Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.

[Exit.

SCENE VI-A magnificent room in Timon's
house. Music. Tables set out: Servants at-
tending. Enter divers Lords, at several doors.
1 Lord. The good time of day to you, sir.

2 Lord. I also wish it to you. I think, this honourable lord did but try us this other day.

Tim. Think not on't, sir.

2 Lord. If you had sent but two hours before,Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance.-Come, bring in all together.

2 Lord. All covered dishes!

1 Lord. Royal cheer, I warrant you.

3 Lord. Doubt not that, if money and the season, can yield it.

1 Lord. How do you? What's the news?

3 Lord. Alcibiades is banished: Hear you of it? 1 & 2 Lord. Alcibiades banished!

3 Lord. 'Tis so, be sure of it.

1 Lord. How? how?

2 Lord. I pray you, upon what?

Tim. My worthy friends, will you draw near? 3 Lord. I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.

2 Lord. This is the old man still.

3 Lord. Will't hold? will't hold?

2 Lord. It does: but time will-and so-
3 Lord. I do conceive.

Tim. Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be 1 Lord. Upon that were my thoughts tiring, in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to when we encountered: I hope, it is not so low with let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first him, as he made it seem in the trial of his several place: Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. friends.

2 Lord. It should not be, by the persuasion of with thankfulness. For your own gifts, make You great benefactors, sprinkle our society his new feasting. 1 Lord. I should think so: He hath sent me an yourselves praised: but reserve still to give, lest earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did your deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, urge me to put off; but he hath conjured me be-that one need not lend to another: for, were your yond them, and I must needs appear. godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake 2 Lord. In like manner was I in debt to my the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty the gods. Make the meat be beloved, more than importunate business, but he would not hear my be without a score of villains: If there sit twelve excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of women at the table, let a dozen of them be-as they

me, that my provision was out.

1 Lord. I am sick of that grief too, as I under-are.-The rest of your fees, gods,-the sena stand how all things go.

tors of Athens, together with the common lag of

2 Lord. Every man here's so. What would he people,-what is amiss in them, you gods, make

have borrowed of you?

1 Lord. A thousand pieces.

2 Lord. A thousand pieces! 1 Lord. What of you?

3 Lord. He sent to me, sir,-Here he comes. Enter Timon, and attendants.

Tim. With all my heart, gentlemen both:-And how fare you?

1 Lord. Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.

2 Lord. The swallow follows not summer more willing, than we your lordship.

suitable for destruction. For these my present
friends, as they are to me nothing, so in 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 lukewarm
water

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

Tim. [Aside.] Nor more willingly leaves winter; [Throwing water in their faces. such summer-birds are men.-Gentlemen, our din-Your reeking villany. Live loath'd, and long, ner will not recompense this long stay: feast your Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, ears with the music awhile; if they will fare so Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, harshly on the trumpet's sound: we shall to't pre-You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,* sently. Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! 1 Lord. I hope, it remains. not unkindly with Of man, and beast, the infinite malady your lordship, that I returned you an empty mes-Crust you quite o'er!-What, dost thou go? Benger. Soft, take thy physic first-thou too,-and thou ;Tim. O sir, let it not trouble [Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out.

you.

2 Lord. My noble lord,Tim. Ah, my good friend! what cheer? [The banquet brought in. 2 Lord. My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame, that, when your lordship this other day sent to me, I was so unfortunate a beggar.

(1) We should now say-to lay out for hearts; i. e. the affections of the people.

(3) To tire on a thing meant, to be idly employed on it,

Re-enter the Lords, with other Lords and Senators. | SCENE II.-Athens. A room in Timon's house. 1 Lord. How now, my lords?

2 Lord. Know you the quality of lord Timon's fury?

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. 3 Lord.

I feel't upon my bones. 4 Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.—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 filths1 Convert o'the instant, green virginity! Do't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants,

steal!

Large handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law! maid, to thy master's bed;
Thy mistress is o'the brothrel! son of sixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from the old limping sire,
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,
Deeline to your confounding contraries,2
And yet confusion live!-Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap

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 may strive,
And drown themselves in riot! itches, blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their cróp
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 !4
Timon will to the woods; where he shall find
The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
The gods confound (hear me, ye good gods all,)
The Athenians both within and out that wall!
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
To the whole race of mankind, high and low!
Amen.

(1) Common sewers.

[Exit.

(2) i. e. Contrarieties, whose nature it is to waste or destroy each other.

(3) For libertinism. (4) Accumulated curses.

-VOL. II.

Enter Flavius, with two 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, am as poor as you.

1 Serv.

Such a house broke! 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.

Flav.
Good fellows all,
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;

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

[Giving them money. Not one word more: parting poor.

[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
But in a dream of friendship?

To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
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 make 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;
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit.

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,
Scarce is dividant,-touch them with several for-
tunes;

(5) Hasty, precipitate.
(6) Propensity, disposition.

(7) i. e. The moon's, this sublunary world.

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 denude that lord;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,

The beggar native honour.

It is the pasture lards the brother'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,
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 posion! 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;
Wrong, right; base, noble; old, young; coward,
valiant.

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 of.]-Ha!
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.

Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

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

Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this 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.

Tim. Timan.

Art thou Timandra?

Yes. 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

trouble?

Tun. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw I had rather be alone.

thy heart,

For showing me again the eyes of man!

Alcib. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to

thee,

Alcib.

Here's some gold for thee.

Tim.

Why, fare thee well:

Keep't, I cannot eat it.

Alcib. When I have laid proud Athens on a

heap,

Thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!

Alcib.

Tim. That,

Why me, Timon?

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

Put up thy gold; Go on,-here's gold,—go on;

(5) i. e. Gold restores her to all the sweetness Gold and freshness of youth.

(6) Alluding to the cure of the lues renerea, then in practice.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Band 2