What is it, Timon?

Alcib. 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 art 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 th' Athenian minion, whom the b Voic'd so regardfully? [world Art thou Timandra? Timan. Yes. [thee: Tim. Be a whore still! they love thee not, that use 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.

Tim.

Timan.
Hang thee, monster!
Alcib. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.

I have had 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 neighbor states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-
Tim. I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
Alcib. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Ti-
[trouble?
Tim. How dost thou pity him, whom thou dost
I had rather be alone.

mon.

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

Keep it, I cannot eat it.
Alcib. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-
Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens ?
Alcib. Ay Timon, and have cause.
Tim. The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
And thee after, when thou hast conquered:
Alcib. Why me, Timon?
Tim.

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

Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one.
Pity not honor'd age for his white beard;

He is 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 milkpaps,

Gules, a term in heraldry denoting red."Voic'd so regardfully," i. e., praised so highly. Alluding to the cure then in practice for lues venerea. Cutting.

That through the window-bars bore at man's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
[babe,
But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy:
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse: swear against abjects;
Put armor 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:
Throwing it.

Make large confusion; and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! Speak not; be gone.
Alcib. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold
thou giv'st me,
Not all thy counsel.

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

hast thou more?

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

Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs With burdens of the dead;-some that were hang'd, No matter:-wear them, betray with them: whore Paint till a horse may mire upon your face: [still; pox of wrinkles!

A

Phry. & Timan. Well, more gold.-What then?Believ'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 sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee,

Smells from the general iweal: make curl’d-pate ruffians bald;

And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you. Plague all,
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection.-There's more gold:
[Throwing it.

Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditchesgrave you all!

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

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

Alcib. Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:

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

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

Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
Alcib.
Call'st thou that harm?
Tim. Men daily find it. Get thee away,

"Sans remorse, ," e., without pity.-Dispositions. Subtleties." Flamen," i. e., priest. To foresee his particular' is to provide for his private advantage, for which he leaves right scent of public good. To grave is to bury.

[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 a worm,
With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all the human sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb;
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented!-O! a root:-dear thanks!
Dry up thy meadows, 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 infected; A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung [place? From change of fortune. Why this spade? this This slave-like habit, and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft, Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot 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. Thou wast told thus ; Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade wel

come,

d

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.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. Thou bast 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 moist trees,
That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,—
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,

Answer mere nature,-bid them flatter thee;

O! thou shalt find

Tim.

A fool of thee. Depart.

Apem. I love thee better now than e'er I did.

Tim.

Thou flatter'st misery.

Apem. I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.
Tim. Why dost thou seek me out?
Арет.

To vex thee.

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

Ay.

What! a knave tool Apem. If thou 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 favor 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 2 dugs of it
Freely command, thou wouldst have plung'd thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In differents 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 insufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st 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,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.
Арет.
Art thou proud yet!
Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Арет.
No prodigal.

I, that I was

Tim. 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. Apem.

[Eating a rod Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offering something Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of

thine.

Tim. 'Tis 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,

ery; pain.

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 was 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 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 talkest 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 it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Would'st thou have thyself 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, thou wert accused by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness 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 killed by the horse: wert thou a horse, thou would'st be seized by the leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert germane 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?

Apem. Yonder comes a poet, and a painter. The plague 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

"Too much curiosity," i. e., too much finical nicety.— Remotion is removing away; removing afar off.

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.-

1I'd beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
Арет. would, my tongue could rot them off.
Tim. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Slave!

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, 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 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! Thou 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 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.

[tongue,

Would 'twere so;
But not till I am dead.-I'll say, thou'st gold:
Thou will be throng'd to shortly.
Tim.
Apem.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee.
Apem.

Throng'd to?

Ay.

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 Bandilti.

1 Band. Where should he have this gold? It is der. The mere want of gold, and the fulling from some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainhim of his friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Band. It is noised, he hath a mass of treasure. 3 Band. 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 Band. True, for he bears it not about him; 'tis hid.

1 Band. Is not this he?
All. Where?

2 Band. 'Tis his description.
3 Band. He; I know him.
All. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now, thieves?
All. Soldiers, not thieves.

Tim. Both two; and women's sons.

"The cap," i. e., the top; the principal.-d Touch for touchstone.