men,

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 7-What, dost thou go?
Soft, take thy physick first-thou too,-and
thou;-

[Throws the dishes at them, and drives

them out. Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. Burn, house; sink, Athens! henceforth hated be Of Timon, man, and all humanity!

[Exit.

Re-enter the Lords, with other Lords and
Senators.

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 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 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 brothel! 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, Domestick 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
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 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 detestable 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 gods confound (hear me, you 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.

[Exit.

SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Timon's House.

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,
I 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
Siink 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 fel
lows.

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 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 ever 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 bleeding 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;

The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature,

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
[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,

roots!

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 off.1-Ha!
a drum ?-Thou'rt quick,

But yet I'll bury thee: Thoul't 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. What art thou there?

Alcib. Speak.

Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,

For showing me again the eyes of man!

Tim.

Maintain my opinion.

Alcib.

Noble Timon,

None, but to

What is it, Timon? Tim. 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 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.

Art thou Timandra 7
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

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,
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,

Are not within the leaf of pity writ,

But set them down horrible traitors: Spare not the babe,

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 ob-
jects;

Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes; 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.

Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee!

Phry.& Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon: Hast thou more ?

Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,

And to make who.es, 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
mouths,

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 may mire upon your face:
A pox of wrinkles!

Phry. & Timan. Well, more gold;-What then 7

Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold,

Tim. Consumptions 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 zound his quillets shrilly: hoarse the flamen,
That seolds 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

Alcib. Strike.

We but offend him.[Drum beats. Exeunt Alcibiades, Phrynia, and Timandra. Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,

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 worn,
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 mansions all above
Never presented!-0, a root,-Dear thanks!
Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts
And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
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 slavelike habit ? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
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: Thon wast told thus ;
Thou gav'st 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 like-

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. Apem. Tim.

Apem. I flatter not Tim. Why dost thou Apem

Why?

Thou flatter'st misery. but say, thou art a caitiff. seek me out?

To vex thee.

A

thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. There's a raedlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate, I feed not. Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Tim Always a villain's office, or a fool's. Dost please thyself in't? Apem. Tim. What! a knave too? Apem. If thon didst put this sour cold habit on To castigate thy pride, 'twere 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 should'st 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.
Пladst thon, like us, from our first swath, pro-
ceeded

The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou would'st have plunged
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 should'st thou
hate men?

'They never flatter'd thee: Why hast thou giv'n?
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,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.

Art thou proud yet?

Apem.
Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Apem.

No prodigal.

Tim.

I, that I was I, that I am one now;

Apem. An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou should'st 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 would'st thou do with the world, Apemantus, if lay in thy power? Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Would'st thou have thy self fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts.

Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee: if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thon wert accused by the ass: if 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 should'st 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 would'st be kill'd by the horse: wert thon a horse, thou would'st 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 life: all thy safety were remotion, and thy defence, absence. What beast could'st 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 could'st please me with speaking to me, thou might'st 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?

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

Apem. What would'st thou have to Athens 7 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? Tim Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus ? Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

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

Apem. Where would'st 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 pertume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags

Tim. 'Would thou wert clean enough to spit

I am sick of this false world; and will love nought

But even the mere necessities upon it.
Then, Timon, 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 other's 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!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate

1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? is it 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 Thief. It is noised, he hath a mass of treasure. 3 Thief. Let us make the assay upon him; if he care not for 't, he will supply us easily; If he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it?"

2 Thief. True; for he tears it not about him, 'tis hid.

1 Thief. Is not this he?

Thieves. Where?

2 Thief. 'Tis his description.
3 Thief. He; I know him.
Thieves. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves?

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

Thieves. We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of men.

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? 1 Thief. 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 to
gether;

Do villany, do, since you profess 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 fire 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 stol'n
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; for 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 Thief. He has alinost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

1 Thief 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

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

1 Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true. [Exeunt Thieves.

Enter Flavius.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yon despis'd and ruinous man my lord 7
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 ends!
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!
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 inen;
Then if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot

thee.

Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.
Tim.

I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
About me, I; all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.
Flav.

Then

The gods are witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you. Tim. What, dost thou weep-Come nearer;

then I love thee,

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!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, To accept my grief, and, whilst this poor wealth lasts,

To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now So comfortable? It almost turns

My dangerous nature mild. Let me behold
Thy face.-Surely this man was born of wo

inan.

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
You perpetual-sober gods? I do proclaim
One honest man,-mistake me not,-but one;
No more, I pray, and he is a steward.-
How fain wonld I have hated all mankind,
And thou redeem'st thyself; But all, save thee,
I fell with curses.