TIMON OF ATHENS

TIMON OF ATHENS BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND THOMAS MIDDLETON WE know no more of Timon of Athens than we can deduce from the text printed in the 1623 Folio. Some episodes, such as the emblematic opening dialogue featuring a Poet and a Painter, are elegantly finished, but the play has more unpolished dialogue and loose ends of plot than usual: for example, the episode (3.6) in which Alcibiades pleads for a soldier’s life is only tenuously related to the main structure; and the final stretch of action seems imperfectly worked out. Various theories of collaboration and revision have been advanced to explain the play’s peculiarities. During the 1970s and 1980s strong linguistic and other evidence was adduced in support of the belief that it is a product of collaboration between Shakespeare and Thomas Middleton, a dramatist born in 1580 and educated at Queen’s College, Oxford, who was writing for the stage by 1602 and was to develop into a great playwright. The major passages for which Middleton seems to have taken prime responsibility are Act 1. Scene 2; all of Act 3 except for parts of Scene 7; and the closing episode (4.3.460-537) of Act 4. The theory of collaboration explains some features of the text—Middleton’s verse, for example, was less regular than Shakespeare’s. There is no record of early performance; the play is conjecturally assigned to 1605-6. The story of Timon was well known and had been told in an anonymous play which seems to have been acted at one of the Inns of Court in 1602 or 1603. The classical sources of Timon’s story are a brief, anecdotal passage in Plutarch’s Life of Mark Antony, and a Greek dialogue by Lucian, who wrote during the second century AD, the former was certainly known to the authors of Timon of Athens; the latter influences them directly or indirectly. Plutarch records two epitaphs, one written by Timon himself, which recur, conflated as one epitaph, almost word for word in the play. In Lucian, as in the play, Timon is a misanthrope because his friends flattered and sponged on him in prosperity but abandoned him in poverty. The first part of the play dramatizes this process; in the second part, as in Lucian, Timon finds gold and suddenly becomes attractive again to his old friends. Timon of Athens is an exceptionally schematic play falling into two sharply contrasting parts, the second a kind of mirror image of the first. Many of the characters are presented two-dimensionally, as if the dramatists were more concerned with the play’s pattern of ideas than with psychological realism. The overall tone is harsh and bitter; there are passages of magnificent invective along with brilliant satire, but there is also tenderness in the portrayal of Timon’s servants, especially his ‘one honest man’, Flavius. In the play’s comparatively rare performances some adaptation has usually been found necessary; but the exceptionally long role of Timon offers great opportunities to an actor who can convey his vulnerability as well as his virulence, especially in the strange music of the closing scenes which suggests in him a vision beyond the ordinary.

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

The Life of Timon of Athens

Atto 1, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Poet at one door, Painter carrying a picture [at another door], [followed by] Jeweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at several doors
POET	Good day, sir.
PAINTER	I am glad you’re well.
POET	I have not seen you long. How goes the world?
PAINTER	It wears, sir, as it grows.
POET	Ay, that’s well known. But what particular rarity, what strange, Which manifold record not matches?—See, Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power Hath conjured to attend.
(didascalia)	Merchant and Jeweller meet. Mercer passes over
(didascalia)	the stage, and exits
POET	I know the merchant.
PAINTER	I know them both. Th’other’s a jeweller.
MERCHANT	(to Jeweller) O, ’tis a worthy lord!
JEWELLER	Nay, that’s most fixed.
MERCHANT	A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness. He passes.
JEWELLER	(showing a jewel) I have a jewel here.
MERCHANT	O, pray, let’s see’t. For the Lord Timon, sir?
JEWELLER	If he will touch the estimate. But for that—
POET	(to himself) ‘When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.’
MERCHANT	(to Jeweller) ’Tis a good form.
JEWELLER	And rich. Here is a water, look ye.
PAINTER	(to Poet) You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord.
POET	A thing slipped idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum which oozes From whence ‘tis nourished. The fire i’th’ flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself, and like the current flies Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
PAINTER	A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
POET	Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let’s see your piece.
PAINTER	(showing the picture) ’Tis a good piece.
POET	So ’tis. This comes off well and excellent.
PAINTER	Indifferent.
POET	Admirable. How this grace Speaks his own standing! What a mental power This eye shoots forth! How big imagination Moves in this lip! To th’ dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.
PAINTER	It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is’t good?
POET	I will say of it, It tutors nature. Artificial strife Lives in these touches livelier than life.
(didascalia)	Enter certain Senators
PAINTER	How this lord is followed!
POET	The senators of Athens. Happy man!
PAINTER	Look, more.
(didascalia)	The Senators pass over the stage, and exeunt]
POET	You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have in this rough work shaped out a man Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment. My free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself In a wide sea of tax. No levelled malice Infects one comma in the course I hold, But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
PAINTER	How shall I understand you?
POET	I will unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, As well of glib and slipp’ry creatures as Of grave and austere quality, tender down Their service to Lord Timon. His large fortune, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself; even he drops down The knee before him, and returns in peace, Most rich in Timon’s nod.
PAINTER	I saw them speak together.
POET	Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o’th’ mount Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states. Amongst them all Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed One do I personate of Lord Timon’s frame, Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her, Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals.
PAINTER	’Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckoned from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well expressed In our condition.
POET	Nay, sir, but hear me on. All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Drink the free air.
PAINTER	Ay, marry, what of these?
POET	When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants, Which laboured after him to the mountain’s top Even on their knees and hands, let him fall down, Not one accompanying his declining foot.
PAINTER	’Tis common. A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune’s More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Enter Timon [wearing a rich
PAINTER	jewell, with a Messenger from Ventidius; Lucilius
(didascalia)	and other Servants] attending. Timon addresses
PAINTER	himself courteously to every suitor, then speaks to the Messenger
TIMON	Imprisoned is he, say you?
MESSENGER	Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt, His means most short, his creditors most strait. Your honourable letter he desires To those have shut him up, which failing, Periods his comfort.
TIMON	Noble Ventidius! Well, I am not of that feather to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman that well deserves a help, Which he shall have. I’ll pay the debt and free him.
MESSENGER	Your lordship ever binds him.
TIMON	Commend me to him. I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me. ’Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well.
MESSENGER	All happiness to your honour. Exit
(didascalia)	Enter an Old Athenian
OLD ATHENIAN	Lord Timon, hear me speak.
TIMON	Freely, good father.
OLD ATHENIAN	Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
TIMON	I have so. What of him?
OLD ATHENIAN	Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
TIMON	Attends he here or no? Lucilius!
LUCILIUS	(coming forward) Here at your lordship’s service.
OLD ATHENIAN	This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, By night frequents my house. I am a man That from my first have been inclined to thrift, And my estate deserves an heir more raised Than one which holds a trencher.
TIMON	Well, what further?
OLD ATHENIAN	One only daughter have I, no kin else On whom I may confer what I have got. The maid is fair, o’th’ youngest for a bride, And I have bred her at my dearest cost In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort. Myself have spoke in vain.
TIMON	The man is honest.
OLD ATHENIAN	Therefore he will be, Timon. His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter.
TIMON	Does she love him?
OLD ATHENIAN	She is young and apt. Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity’s in youth.
TIMON	(to Lucilius) Love you the maid?
LUCILIUS	Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
OLD ATHENIAN	If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.
TIMON	How shall she be endowed If she be mated with an equal husband?
OLD ATHENIAN	Three talents on the present; in future, all.
TIMON	This gentleman of mine hath served me long. To build his fortune I will strain a little, For ’tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter. What you bestow in him I’ll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.
OLD ATHENIAN	Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
TIMON	My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
LUCILIUS	Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping Which is not owed to you.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian
POET	(presenting a poem to Timon) Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
TIMON	I thank you. You shall hear from me anon. Go not away. (To Painter) What have you there, my friend?
PAINTER	A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.
TIMON	Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; For since dishonour traffics with man’s nature, He is but outside; these pencilled figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work, And you shall find I like it. Wait attendance Till you hear further from me.
PAINTER	The gods preserve ye!
TIMON	Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand. We must needs dine together. (To Jeweller) Sir, your jewel Hath suffered under praise.
JEWELLER	What, my lord, dispraise?
TIMON	A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extolled It would unclew me quite.
JEWELLER	My lord, ’tis rated As those which sell would give; but you well know Things of like value differing in the owners Are prized by their masters. Believe’t, dear lord, You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
TIMON	Well mocked.
MERCHANT	No, my good lord, he speaks the common tongue Which all men speak with him.
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus
TIMON	Look who comes here. Will you be chid?
JEWELLER	We will bear, with your lordship.
MERCHANT	He’ll spare none.
TIMON	Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
APEMANTUS	Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow— When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
TIMON	Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know’st them not.
APEMANTUS	Are they not Athenians?
TIMON	Yes.
APEMANTUS	Then I repent not.
JEWELLER	You know me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Thou know’st I do. I called thee by thy name.
TIMON	Thou art proud, Apemantus!
APEMANTUS	Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
TIMON	Whither art going?
APEMANTUS	To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.
TIMON	That’s a deed thou’It die for.
APEMANTUS	Right, if doing nothing be death by th’ law.
TIMON	How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	The best for the innocence.
TIMON	Wrought he not well that painted it?
APEMANTUS	He wrought better that made the painter, and yet he’s but a filthy piece of work.
PAINTER	You’re a dog.
APEMANTUS	Thy mother’s of my generation. What’s she, if I be a dog?
TIMON	Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	No, I eat not lords.
TIMON	An thou shouldst, thou’dst anger ladies.
APEMANTUS	O, they eat lords. So they come by great bellies.
TIMON	That’s a lascivious apprehension.
APEMANTUS	So thou apprehend’st it; take it for thy labour.
TIMON	How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Not so well as plain dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.
TIMON	What dost thou think ’tis worth?
APEMANTUS	Not worth my thinking. How now, poet?
POET	How now, philosopher?
APEMANTUS	Thou liest.
POET	Art not one?
APEMANTUS	Yes.
POET	Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS	Art not a poet?
POET	Yes.
APEMANTUS	Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
POET	That’s not feigned, he is so.
APEMANTUS	Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered is worthy o’th’ flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
TIMON	What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	E’en as Apemantus does now: hate a lord with my heart.
TIMON	What, thyself?
APEMANTUS	Ay.
TIMON	Wherefore?
APEMANTUS	That I had no augury but to be a lord.-Art not thou a merchant?
MERCHANT	Ay, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS	Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
MERCHANT	If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS	Traffic’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!
(didascalia)	Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
TIMON	What trumpet’s that?
MESSENGER	’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse All of companionship.
TIMON	(to Servants) Pray entertain them. Give them guide to us. [Exit one or more Servants] [To Jeweller] You must needs dine with me. [To Poet] Go not you hence Till I have thanked you. [To Painter] When dinner’s done Show me this piece. [To all] I am joyful of your sights.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades with [his horsemen]
TIMON	Most welcome, sir!
APEMANTUS	[aside] So, so, there. Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves, And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out Into baboon and monkey.
ALCIBIADES	(to Timon) Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight.
TIMON	Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Apemantus
(didascalia)	Enter two Lords
FIRST LORD	What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Time to be honest.
FIRST LORD	That time serves still.
APEMANTUS	The most accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.
SECOND LORD	Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?
APEMANTUS	Ay, to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.
SECOND LORD	Fare thee well, fare thee well.
APEMANTUS	Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
SECOND LORD	Why, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.
FIRST LORD	Hang thyself
APEMANTUS	No, I will do nothing at thy bidding. Make thy requests to thy friend.
SECOND LORD	Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence.
APEMANTUS	I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’th’ ass.
(didascalia)	Exit
FIRST LORD	He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? He outgoes The very heart of kindness.
SECOND LORD	He pours it out. Plutus the god of gold Is but his steward; no meed but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.
FIRST LORD	The noblest mind he carries That ever governed man.
SECOND LORD	Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
(didascalia)	FIRST LORD I’ll keep you company. Exeunt

Atto 1, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in, Flavius and Servants attending; and then enter Timon, Alcibiades, the Senators, the Athenian Lords, and Ventidius which Timon redeemed from prison. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself
VENTIDIUS	Most honoured Timon, it hath pleased the gods to remember My father’s age and call him to long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich. Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound To your free heart, I do return those talents, Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help I derived liberty.
TIMON	O, by no means, Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love. I gave it freely ever, and there’s none Can truly say he gives if he receives. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare To imitate them. Faults that are rich are fair.
VENTIDIUS	A noble spirit!
(didascalia)	The Lords stand with ceremony
TIMON	Nay, my lords, Ceremony was but devised at first To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown; But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray sit. More welcome are ye to my fortunes Than my fortunes to me.
(didascalia)	They sit
FIRST LORD	My lord, we always have confessed it.
APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, confessed it? Hanged it, have you not?
TIMON	O, Apemantus! You are welcome.
APEMANTUS	No, You shall not make me welcome. I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
TIMON	Fie, thou‘rt a churl. Ye’ve got a humour there Does not become a man; ’tis much to blame. They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est, But yon man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself, For he does neither affect company Nor is he fit for’t, indeed.
APEMANTUS	Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon. I come to observe, I give thee warning on’t.
TIMON	I take no heed of thee; thou’rt an Athenian, Therefore welcome. I myself would have no power: Prithee, let my meat make thee silent.
APEMANTUS	I scorn thy meat. ‘Twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ‘em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one man’s blood; and all the madness is, he cheers them up, too. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men. Methinks they should invite them without knives: Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. There’s much example for’t. The fellow that sits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him. ’T’as been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals, Lest they should spy my windpipe’s dangerous notes. Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
TIMON	(drinking to a Lord) My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
SECOND LORD	Let it flow this way, my good lord.
APEMANTUS	‘Flow this way’? A brave fellow; he keeps his tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner: Honest water, which ne‘er left man i’th’ mire. This and my food are equals; there’s no odds. Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. Apemantus’ grace Immortal gods, I crave no pelf. I pray for no man but myself. Grant I may never prove so fond To trust man on his oath or bond, Or a harlot for her weeping, Or a dog that seems a-sleeping, Or a keeper with my freedom, Or my friends if I should need ’em. Amen. So fall to’t. Rich men sin, and I eat root.
(didascalia)	He eats
APEMANTUS	Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus.
TIMON	Captain Alcibiades, your heart’s in the field now.
ALCIBIADES	My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
TIMON	You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a dinner of friends.
ALCISIADES	So they were bleeding new, my lord; there’s no meat like ’em. I could wish my best friend at such a feast.
APEMANTUS	Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, That thou mightst kill ‘em and bid me to ’em.
FIRST LORD	(to Timon) Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.
TIMON	O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. ‘O you gods,’ think I, ‘what need we have any friends if we should ne’er have need of ‘em? They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne’er have use for ‘em, and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keeps their sounds to themselves.’ Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort ‘tis to have so many like brothers commanding one another’s fortunes! O, joy’s e’en made away ere’t can be born: mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their faults, I drink to you.
APEMANTUS	Thou weep’st to make them drink, Timon.
SECOND LORD	(to Timon) Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
THIRD LORD	(to Timon) I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
APEMANTUS	Much! A tucket sounds within
TIMON	What means that trump?
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant
TIMON	How now?
SERVANT	Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.
TIMON	Ladies? What are their wills?
SERVANT	There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office to signify their pleasures.
TIMON	I pray let them be admitted.
(didascalia)	Enter one as Cupid
CUPID	Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all That of his bounties taste! The five best senses Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th’ear, Taste, touch, smell, all, pleased from thy table rise. They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
TIMON	They’re welcome all. Let ’em have kind admittance.
(didascalia)	Music make their welcome! Exit Cupid
(didascalia)	FIRST LORD
TIMON	You see, my lord, how ample you’re beloved.
(didascalia)	Music. Enter a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing
APEMANTUS	Hey-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! They dance? They are madwomen. Like madness is the glory of this life As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves, And spend our flatteries to drink those men Upon whose age we void it up again With poisonous spite and envy. Who lives that’s not depraved or depraves? Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves Of their friends’ gift? I should fear those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me. ’T’as been done. Men shut their doors against a setting sun. The Lords rise from table with much adoring of Timon; and to show their loves each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys; and cease
TIMON	You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, Which was not half so beautiful and kind. You have added worth unto’t and lustre, And entertained me with mine own device. I am to thank you for’t.
(didascalia)	FIRST LADY
TIMON	My lord, you take us even at the best.
APEMANTUS	Faith; for the worst is filthy, and would not hold taking, I doubt me.
TIMON	Ladies, there is an idle banquet ’tends you. Please you to dispose yourselves.
ALL LADIES	Most thankfully, my lord. Exeunt Ladies
TIMON	Flavius.
FLAVIUS	My lord.
TIMON	The little casket bring me hither.
FLAVIUS	Yes, my lord. (Aside) More jewels yet? There is no crossing him in’s humour, Else I should tell him well, i‘faith I should. When all’s spent, he’d be crossed then, an he could. ’Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, That man might ne’er be wretched for his mind. Exit
FIRST LORD	Where be our men?
SERVANT	Here, my lord, in readiness.
(didascalia)	SECOND LORD Our horses. Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius with the casket. He gives it to Timon, and exits
TIMON	O my friends, I have one word to say to you. Look you, my good lord, I must entreat you honour me so much As to advance this jewel. Accept and wear it, Kind my lord.
FIRST LORD	I am so far already in your gifts.
ALL LORDS	So are we all. Timon gives them jewels.
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant
FIRST SERVANT	My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate newly alighted and come to visit you.
TIMON	They are fairly welcome. Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius
FLAVIUS	I beseech your honour, vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.
TIMON	Near? Why then, another time I’ll hear thee. I prithee, let’s be provided to show them entertainment.
FLAVIUS	I scarce know how.
(didascalia)	Enter a Second Servant
SECOND SERVANT	May it please your honour, Lord Lucius Out of his free love hath presented to you Four milk-white horses trapped in silver.
TIMON	I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents Be worthily entertained.
(didascalia)	Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter a Third Servant
TIMON	How now, what news?
THIRD SERVANT	Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman Lord Lucullus entreats your company tomorrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.
TIMON	I’ll hunt with him, and let them be received Not without fair reward. Exit Servant
FLAVIUS	(aside) What will this come to? He commands us to provide and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer; Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this: To show him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good. His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes For every word. He is so kind that he now Pays interest for’t. His land’s put to their books. Well, would I were gently put out of office Before I were forced out. Happier is he that has no friend to feed Than such that do e’en enemies exceed. I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit
TIMON	(to the Lords) You do yourselves Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits. (To Second Lord) Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
SECOND LORD	With more than common thanks I will receive it.
THIRD LORD	O, he’s the very soul of bounty!
TIMON	(to First Lord) And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. ’Tis yours, because you liked it.
FIRST LORD	O I beseech you pardon me, my lord, in that.
TIMON	You may take my word, my lord, I know no man Can justly praise but what he does affect. I weigh my friends’ affection with mine own. I’ll tell you true, I’ll call to you.
ALL LORDS	O, none so welcome.
TIMON	I take all and your several visitations So kind to heart, ‘tis not enough to give. Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends, And ne’er be weary. Alcibiades, Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
(didascalia)	Giving a present It comes in charity to thee, for all
TIMON	thy living Is ’mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast Lie in a pitched field.
ALCIBIADES	Ay, defiled land, my lord.
FIRST LORD	We are so virtuously bound—
TIMON	And so am I to you.
SECOND LORD	So infinitely endeared—
TIMON	All to you. Lights, more lights!
FIRST LORD	The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes Keep with you, Lord Timon.
TIMON	Ready for his friends.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Timon and Apemantus
APEMANTUS	What a coil’s here, Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums That are given for ’em. Friendship’s full of dregs. Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs. Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtseys.
TIMON	Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen I would be good to thee.
APEMANTUS	No, I’ll nothing; for if I should be bribed too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou giv’st so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly. What needs these feasts, pomps, and vainglories?
TIMON	Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come with better music. Exit
APEMANTUS SO.	Thou wilt not hear me now, thou shalt not then. I’ll lock thy heaven from thee. O, that men’s ears should be To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 2, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter a Senator With bonds
SENATOR	And late five thousand. To Varro and to Isidore He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum, Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion Of raging waste! It cannot hold, it will not. If I want gold, steal but a beggar’s dog And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. If I would sell my horse and buy twenty more Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon— Ask nothing, give it him—it foals me straight, And able horses. No porter at his gate, But rather one that smiles and still invites All that pass by. It cannot hold. No reason Can sound his state in safety. Caphis ho! Caphis, I say!
(didascalia)	Enter Caphis
CAPHIS	Here, sir. What is your pleasure?
SENATOR	Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon. Importune him for my moneys. Be not ceased With slight denial, nor then silenced when ‘Commend me to your master’, and the cap Plays in the right hand, thus; but tell him My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn Out of mine own, his days and times are past, And my reliances on his fracted dates Have smit my credit. I love and honour him, But must not break my back to heal his finger. Immediate are my needs, and my relief Must not be tossed and turned to me in words, But find supply immediate. Get you gone. Put on a most importunate aspect, A visage of demand, for I do fear When every feather sticks in his own wing Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
CAPHIS	I go, sir.
(didascalia)	SENATOR giving him bonds
CAPHIS	Take the bonds along with you, And have the dates in count.
CAPHIS	I will, sir.
SENATOR	Go.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 2, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, with many bills in his hand
FLAVIUS	No care, no stop; so senseless of expense That he will neither know how to maintain it Nor cease his flow of riot, takes no account How things go from him, nor resumes no care Of what is to continue. Never mind Was to be so unwise to be so kind. What shall be done? He will not hear till feel.
(didascalia)	A sound of horns within
FLAVIUS	I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. Fie, fie, fie, fie!
(didascalia)	Enter Caphis at one door and Servants of Isidore and Varro at another door
CAPHIS	Good even, Varro. What, you come for money?
VARRO’S SERVANT	Is’t not your business too?
CAPHIS	It is; and yours too, Isidore?
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	It is SO.
CAPHIS	Would we were all discharged.
VARRO’S SERVANT	I fear it.
CAPHIS	Here comes the lord.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon and his train, amongst them Alcibiades, as from hunting
TIMON	So soon as dinner’s done we’ll forth again, My Alcibiades. Caphis meets Timon With me? What is your will?
CAPHIS	My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
TIMON	Dues? Whence are you?
CAPHIS	Of Athens here, my lord.
TIMON	Go to my steward.
CAPHIS	Please it your lordship, he hath put me off, To the succession of new days, this month. My master is awaked by great occasion To call upon his own, and humbly prays you That with your other noble parts you’ll suit In giving him his right.
TIMON	Mine honest friend, I prithee but repair to me next morning.
CAPHIS	Nay, good my lord.
TIMON	Contain thyself, good friend.
VARRO’S SERVANT	One Varro’s servant, my good lord.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Timon) From Isidore. He humbly prays your speedy payment.
CAPHIS	(to Timon) If you did know, my lord, my master’s wants—
VARRO’S SERVANT	(to Timon) ’Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Timon) Your steward puts me off, my lord, and I Am sent expressly to your lordship.
TIMON	Give me breath.— I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on. I’ll wait upon you instantly.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Alcibiades and Timon’s train
TIMON	(To Flavius) Come hither. Pray you, How goes the world, that I am thus encountered With clamorous demands of broken bonds And the detention of long-since-due debts, Against my honour?
FLAVIUS	(to Servants) Please you, gentlemen, The time is unagreeable to this business; Your importunacy cease till after dinner, That I may make his lordship understand Wherefore you are not paid.
TIMON	(to Servants) Do so, my friends. (To Flavius) See them well entertained. Exit
FLAVIUS	Pray draw near.
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus and Fool
CAPHIS	Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus. Let’s ha’ some sport with ’em.
VARRO’S SERVANT	Hang him, he’ll abuse us.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	A plague upon him, dog!
VARRO’S SERVANT	How dost, fool?
APEMANTUS	Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
VARRO’S SERVANT	I speak not to thee.
APEMANTUS	No, ’tis to thyself, (To Fool) Come away.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Varro’s Servant) There’s the fool hangs on your back already. APEMANTUs No, thou stand‘st single: thou’rt not on him yet.
CAPHIS	(to Isidore’s Servant) Where’s the fool now?
APEMANTUS	He last asked the question. Poor rogues’ and usurers’ men, bawds between gold and want.
ALL SERVANTS	What are we, Apemantus? 6
APEMANTUS	Asses.
ALL SERVANTS	Why?
APEMANTUS	That you ask me what you are, and do not know yourselves. Speak to ’em, fool.
FOOL	How do you, gentlemen?
ALL SERVANTS	Gramercies, good fool. How does your mistress?
FOOL	She’s e’en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth.
APEMANTUS	Good; gramercy.
(didascalia)	Enter Page with two letters
FOOL	Look you, here comes my mistress’ page.
PAGE	Why, how now, captain? What do you in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably.
PAGE	Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these letters. I know not which is which.
APEMANTUS	Canst not read?
PAGE	No.
APEMANTUS	There will little learning die then that day thou art hanged. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go, thou wast born a bastard, and thou’lt die a bawd.
PAGE	Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a dog’s death. Answer not; I am gone. Exit
APEMANTUS	E‘en so thou outrunn’st grace. Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon’s.
FOOL	Will you leave me there?
APEMANTUS	If Timon stay at home. (To Servants) You three serve three usurers?
ALL SERVANTS	Ay. Would they served us.
APEMANTUS	So would I: as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.
FOOL	Are you three usurers’ men?
ALL SERVANTS	Ay, fool. 95
FOOL	I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant. My mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your masters they approach sadly and go away merry, but they enter my mistress’s house merrily and go away sadly. The reason of this?
VARRO’S SERVANT	I could render one.
APEMANTUS	Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a knave, which notwithstanding thou shalt be no less esteemed.
VARRO’S SERVANT	What is a whoremaster, fool?
FOOL	A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. ’Tis a spirit; sometime ’t appears like a lord, sometime like a lawyer, sometime like a philosopher with two stones more than’s artificial one. He is very often like a knight; and generally in all shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in.
VARRO’S SERVANT	Thou art not altogether a fool.
FOOL	Nor thou altogether a wise man. As much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lack ’st.
APEMANTUS	That answer might have become Apemantus. Enter Timon and Flavius
ALL SERVANTS	Aside, aside, here comes Lord Timon.
APEMANTUS	Come with me, fool, come.
FOOL	I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman: sometime the philosopher.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Apemantus and Fool
FLAVIUS	(to Servants) Pray you, walk near. I’ll speak with you anon.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Servants
TIMON	You make me marvel wherefore ere this time Had you not fully laid my state before me, That I might so have rated my expense As I had leave of means.
FLAVIUS	You would not hear me. At many leisures I proposed—
TIMON	Go to. Perchance some single vantages you took, When my indisposition put you back, And that unaptness made your minister Thus to excuse yourself.
FLAVIUS	O my good lord, At many times I brought in my accounts, Laid them before you; you would throw them off And say you summed them in mine honesty. When for some trifling present you have bid me Return so much, I have shook my head and wept, Yea, ‘gainst th’authority of manners prayed you To hold your hand more close. I did endure Not seldom nor no slight checks when I have Prompted you in the ebb of your estate And your great flow of debts. My lovèd lord— Though you hear now too late, yet now’s a time— The greatest of your having lacks a half To pay your present debts.
TIMON	Let all my land be sold.
FLAVIUS	‘Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone, And what remains will hardly stop the mouth Of present dues. The future comes apace. What shall defend the interim, and at length How goes our reck’ning?
TIMON	To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
FLAVIUS	O my good lord, the world is but a word. Were it all yours to give it in a breath, How quickly were it gone.
TIMON	You tell me true.
FLAVIUS	If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, Call me before th’exactest auditors And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, When all our offices have been oppressed With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine, when every room Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy, I have retired me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow.
TIMON	Prithee, no more.
FLAVIUS	‘Heavens,’ have I said, ‘the bounty of this lord! How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants This night englutted! Who is not Timon’s? What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord Timon’s? Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. Feast won, fast lost; one cloud of winter show’rs, These flies are couched.’
TIMON	Come, sermon me no further. No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart. Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart. If I would broach the vessels of my love And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, Men and men’s fortunes could I frankly use As I can bid thee speak.
FLAVIUS	Assurance bless your thoughts!
TIMON	And in some sort these wants of mine are crowned That I account them blessings, for by these Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you Mistake my fortunes. I am wealthy in my friends.—
(didascalia)	Within there, Flaminius, Servilius!
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius, Servilius, and a Third Servant
ALL SERVANTS	My lord, my lord.
TIMON	I will dispatch you severally, (To Servilius) You to Lord Lucius, (To Flaminius) to Lord Lucullus you— I hunted with his honour today— (To Third Servant) You to Sempronius. Commend me to their loves, And I am proud, say, that my occasions have Found time to use ’em toward a supply of money. Let the request be fifty talents.
FLAMINIUS	As you have said, my lord. Exeunt Servants
FLAVIUS	Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Hmh!
TIMON	Go you, sir, to the senators, Of whom, even to the state’s best health, I have Deserved this hearing. Bid ‘em send o’th’ instant A thousand talents to me.
FLAVIUS	I have been bold, For that I knew it the most general way, To them, to use your signet and your name; But they do shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return.
TIMON	Is’t true? Can’t be?
FLAVIUS	They answer in a joint and corporate voice That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would, are sorry, you are honourable, But yet they could have wished—they know not— Something hath been amiss—a noble nature May catch a wrench—would all were well—’tis pity; And so, intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, With certain half-caps and cold moving nods They froze me into silence.
TIMON	You gods reward them! Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary. Their blood is caked, ‘tis cold, it seldom flows. ’Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; And nature as it grows again toward earth Is fashioned for the journey dull and heavy. Go to Ventidius. Prithee, be not sad. Thou art true and honest—ingenuously I speak— No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately Buried his father, by whose death he’s stepped Into a great estate. When he was poor, Imprisoned, and in scarcity of friends, I cleared him with five talents. Greet him from me. Bid him suppose some good necessity Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered With those five talents. That had, give’t these fellows To whom ‘tis instant due. Ne’er speak or think That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.
FLAVIUS	I would I could not think it. That thought is bounty’s foe: Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 3, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius, with a box under his cloak, waiting to speak with Lucullus. From his master, enters a Servant to him
LUCULLUS’ SERVANT	I have told my lord of you. He is coming down to you.
FLAMINIUS	I thank you, sir.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucullus
LUCULLUS’ SERVANT	Here’s my lord.
LUCULLUS	(aside) One of Lord Timon’s men? A gift, I warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver basin and ewer tonight.—Ftaminius, honest Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome, sir. (To his Servant) Fill me some wine. Exit Servant And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord and master?
FLAMINIUS	His health is well, sir.
LUCULLUS	I am right glad that his health is well, sir. And what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
FLAMINIUS	Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which in my lord’s behalf I come to entreat your honour to supply, who, having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to furnish him, nothing doubting your present assistance therein.
LUCULLUS	La, la, la, la, ‘nothing doubting’ says he? Alas, good lord! A noble gentleman ’tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha’ dined with him and told him on‘t, and come again to supper to him of purpose to have him spend less; and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha’ told him on’t, but I could ne’er get him from’t.
(didascalia)	Enter Servant, with wine
SERVANT	Please your lordship, here is the wine.
LUCULLUS	Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. (Drinking) Here’s to thee!
FLAMINIUS	Your lordship speaks your pleasure.
LUCULLUS	I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit, give thee thy due, and one that knows what belongs to reason; and canst use the time well if the time use thee well. (Drinking) Good parts in thee! (To his Servant) Get you gone, sirrah. Exit Servant Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord’s a bountiful gentleman; but thou art wise, and thou know‘st well enough, although thou com’st to me, that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without security. (Giving coins) Here’s three solidares for thee. Good boy, wink at me, and say thou saw’st me not. Fare thee well.
FLAMINIUS	Is’t possible the world should so much differ, And we alive that lived? He throws the coins at Lucullus Fly, damned baseness, To him that worships thee.
LUCULLUS	Ha! Now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.
(didascalia)	Exit
FLAMINIUS	May these add to the number that may scald thee. Let molten coin be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himself. Has friendship such a faint and milky heart It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, I feel my master’s passion! This slave Unto this hour has my lord’s meat in him. Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, When he is turned to poison? O, may diseases only work upon’t; And when he’s sick to death, let not that part of nature Which my lord paid for be of any power To expel sickness, but prolong his hour.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius, with three Strangers
LUCIUS	Who, the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman.
FIRST STRANGER	We know him for no less, though we are but strangers to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon’s happy hours are done and past, and his estate shrinks from him.
LUCIUS	Fie, no, do not believe it. He cannot want for money. 9
SECOND STRANGER	But believe you this, my lord, that not long ago one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow so many talents—nay, urged extremely for‘t, and showed what necessity belonged to’t, and yet was denied.
LUCIUS	How?
SECOND STRANGER	I tell you, denied, my lord.
LUCIUS	What a strange case was that! Now before the gods, I am ashamed on’t. Denied that honourable man? There was very little honour showed in’t. For my own part, I must needs confess I have received some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels, and suchlike trifles—nothing comparing to his; yet had he not mistook him and sent to me, I should ne’er have denied his occasion so many talents.
(didascalia)	Enter Servilius
SERVILIUS	(aside) See, by good hap yonder’s my lord. I have sweat to see his honour. (To Lucius) My honoured lord!
(didascalia)	LUCIUS Servilius! You are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well. Commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend.
SERVILIUS	May it please your honour, my lord hath sent—
LUCIUS	Ha! What has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord, he’s ever sending. How shall I thank him, think’st thou? And what has he sent now?
SERVILIUS	He’s only sent his present occasion now, my lord, requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents.
(didascalia)	LUCIUS
SERVILIUS	I know his lordship is but merry with me. He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.
SERVILIUS	But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. If his occasion were not virtuous I should not urge it half so faithfully.
LUCIUS	Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
SERVILIUS	Upon my soul, ’tis true, sir.
LUCIUS	What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against such a good time when I might ha’ shown myself honourable) How unluckily it happened that I should purchase the day before a little part, and undo a great deal of honour! Servilius, now before the gods I am not able to do, the more beast I, I say. I was sending to use Lord Timon myself—these gentlemen can witness—but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done’t now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me because I have no power to be kind. And tell him this from me: I count it one of my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far as to use mine own words to him?
SERVILIUS	Yes, sir, I shall.
LUCIUS	I’ll look you out a good turn, Servilius. Exit Servilius True as you said: Timon is shrunk indeed; And he that’s once denied will hardly speed. Exit
FIRST STRANGER	Do you observe this, Hostilius?
SECOND STRANGER	Ay, too well.
FIRST STRANGER	Why, this is the world’s soul, and just of the same piece Is every flatterer’s spirit. Who can call him his friend That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing, Timon has been this lord’s father And kept his credit with his purse, Supported his estate; nay, Timon’s money Has paid his men their wages. He ne’er drinks, But Timon’s silver treads upon his lip; And yet—O see the monstrousness of man When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!— He does deny him, in respect of his, What charitable men afford to beggars.
THIRD STRANGER	Religion groans at it.
FIRST STRANGER	For mine own part, I never tasted Timon in my life, Nor came any of his bounties over me To mark me for his friend; yet I protest, For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue, And honourable carriage, Had his necessity made use of me I would have put my wealth into donation And the best half should have returned to him, So much I love his heart. But I perceive Men must learn now with pity to dispense, For policy sits above conscience.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon’s Third Servant, with Sempronius, another of Timon’s friends
SEMPRONIUS	Must he needs trouble me in’t? Hmh! ’Bove all others? He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; And now Ventidius is wealthy too, Whom he redeemed from prison. All these Owes their estates unto him.
SERVANT	My lord, They have all been touched and found base metal, For they have all denied him.
SEMPRONIUS	How, have they denied him? Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him, And does he send to me? Three? Hmhl It shows but little love or judgement in him. Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, Thrive, give him over; must I take th’ cure upon me? He’s much disgraced me in’t. I’m angry at him, That might have known my place. I see no sense for’t But his occasions might have wooed me first, For, in my conscience, I was the first man That e‘er received gift from him. And does he think so backwardly of me now That I’ll requite it last? No. So it may prove an argument of laughter To th’ rest, and I ’mongst lords be thought a fool. I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum He’d sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake. I’d such a courage to do him good. But now return, And with their faint reply this answer join: Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.
(didascalia)	Exit
SERVANT	Excellent. Your lordship’s a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic—he crossed himself by’t, and I cannot think but in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms on fire; of such a nature is his politic love. This was my lord’s best hope. Now all are fled Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead. Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year must be employed Now to guard sure their master; And this is all a liberal course allows: Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Varro’s two Servants, meeting others, all Servants of Timon’s creditors, to wait for his coming out. Then enter Servants of Lucius, Titus, and Hortensius
(didascalia)	VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT
(didascalia)	Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.
TITUS’ SERVANT	The like to you, kind Varro.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Lucius, what, do we meet together?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ay, and I think one business does command us all, For mine is money.
TITUS’ SERVANT	So is theirs and ours.
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant of Philotus
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	And Sir Philotus too!
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Good day at once.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Welcome, good brother. What do you think the hour?
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Labouring for nine.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	So much?
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Is not my lord seen yet?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Not yet.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	I wonder on’t; he was wont to shine at seven.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	I am of your fear for that.
TITUS’ SERVANT	I’ll show you how t’observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money?
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Most true, he does.
TITUS’ SERVANT	And he wears jewels now of Timon’s gift, For which I wait for money.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	It is against my heart.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	I’m 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.
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	Yes; mine’s three thousand crowns. What’s yours?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Five thousand, mine.
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	’is much deep, and it should seem by th’ sum Your master’s confidence was above mine, Else surely his had equalled.
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius
TITUS’ SERVANT	One of Lord Timon’s men.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Flaminius! Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord 36 Ready to come forth?
FLAMINIUS	No, indeed he is not.
TITUS’ SERVANT	We attend his lordship. Pray signify so much.
FLAMINIUS	I need not tell Him that; he knows you are too diligent.
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, muffled in a cloak
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ha, is not that his steward muffled so? He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him.
TITUS’ SERVANT	(to Flavius) Do you hear, sir?
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	(to Flavius) By your leave, sir.
FLAVIUS	What do ye ask of me, my friend?
TITUS’ SERVANT	We wait for certain money here, sir.
FLAVIUS	Ay, If money were as certain as your waiting, ‘Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and bills When your false masters ate of my lord’s meat? Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts, And take down th’int’est into their glutt’nous maws. You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up. Let me pass quietly. Believe’, my lord and I have made an end. I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ay, but this answer will not serve.
FLAVIUS	If ‘twill not serve ’tis not so base as you, For you serve knaves.
(didascalia)	Exit
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	How? What does his cashiered worship mutter?
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	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.
(didascalia)	Enter Servilius
TITUS’ SERVANT	O, here’s Servilius. Now we shall know some answer.
SERVILIUS	If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from’t; for, take’t of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him. He’s much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
SERVILIUS	Good gods!
TITUS’ SERVANT	We cannot take this for an answer, sir.
FLAMINIUS	(Within) Servilius, helpl My lord, my lord!
(didascalia)	Enter Timon in a rage
TIMON	What, are my doors opposed against my passage? Have I been ever free, and must my house Be my retentive enemy, my jail? The place which I have feasted, does it now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Put in now, Titus.
TITUS’ SERVANT	My lord, here is my bill.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Here’s mine.
(didascalia)	HORTENSUS’ SERVANT And mine, my lord.
(didascalia)	VARRO’S FIRST and SECOND SERVANTS And ours, my lord.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	All our bills.
TIMON	Knock me down with ’em, cleave me to the girdle.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Alas, my lord.
TIMON	Cut my heart in sums. 90
TITUS’ SERVANT	Mine fifty talents.
TIMON	Tell out my blood.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Five thousand crowns, my lord.
TIMON	Five thousand drops pays that. What yours? And yours?
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	My lord—
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	My lord—
TIMON	Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you.
(didascalia)	Exit
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money. These debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 5

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon and Flavius
TIMON	They have e’en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors? Devils!
FLAVIUS	My dear lord—
TIMON	What if it should be so?
FLAVIUS	My lord—
TIMON	I’ll have it so. My steward!
FLAVIUS	Here, my lord.
TIMON	So fitly? Go bid all my friends again: Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius—all luxors, all. I’ll once more feast the rascals.
FLAVIUS	O my lord, You only speak from your distracted soul. There is not so much left to furnish out A moderate table.
TIMON	Be it not in thy care. Go, I charge thee, invite them all. Let in the tide Of knaves once more. My cook and I’ll provide.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 3, Scena 6

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter three Senators at one door
FIRST SENATOR	My lords, you have my voice to’t. The fault’s bloody. ’Tis necessary he should die. Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
SECOND SENATOR	Most true; the law shall bruise ’im.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades at another door, with attendants
ALCIBIADES	Honour, health, and compassion to the senate!
FIRST SENATOR	Now, captain.
ALCIBIADES	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 stepped into the law, which is past depth To those that without heed do plunge into’t. He is a man, setting his feat 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 touched to death, He did oppose his foe; And with such sober and unnoted passion He did behave his anger, ere ’twas spent, As if he had but proved an argument.
FIRST SENATOR	You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. Your words have took such pains as if they laboured To bring manslaughter into form, and 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 To 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!
ALCIBIADES	My lord—
FIRST SENATOR	You cannot make gross sins look clear. To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
ALCIBIADES	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 threats, sleep upon‘t, And let the foes quietly cut their throats Without repugnancy? If there be Such valour in the bearing, what make we Abroad? Why then, women are more valiant That stay at home if bearing carry it, And the 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.
SECOND SENATOR	You breathe in vain.
ALCIBIADES	In vain? His service done at Lacedaemon and Byzantium Were a sufficient briber for his life.
FIRST SENATOR	What’s that?
ALCIBIADES	Why, I say, my lords, he’s done fair service, And slain in fight many of your enemies. How full of valour did he bear himself In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
SECOND SENATOR	He has made too much plenty with ‘em. He’s a sworn rioter; he has a sin That often drowns him and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no foes, that were enough To overcome him. In that beastly fury He has been known to commit outrages And cherish factions. ’Tis inferred to us His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
FIRST SENATOR	He dies.
ALCIBIADES	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 ’em 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.
FIRST SENATOR	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.
ALCIBIADES	Must it be so? It must not be. My lords, I do beseech you know me.
SECOND SENATOR	How?
ALCIBIADES	Call me to your remembrances.
THIRD SENATOR	What?
ALCIBIADES	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.
FIRST SENATOR	Do you dare our anger? ’Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for ever.
ALCIBIADES	Banish me? Banish your dotage, banish usury That makes the senate ugly.
FIRST SENATOR	If after two days’ shine Athens contain thee, attend our weightier judgement; And, not to swell your spirit, he shall be Executed presently.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Senators and attendants
ALCIBIADES	Now the gods keep you old enough that you may live Only in bone, that none may look on you! I’m 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? Banishment! It comes not ill; I hate not to be banished. 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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 7

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter divers of Timon’s friends, amongst them Lucullus, Lucius, Sempronius, and other Lords and Senators, at several doors
FIRST LORD	The good time of day to you, sir.
SECOND LORD	I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord did but try us this other day.
FIRST LORD	Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.
SECOND LORD	It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.
FIRST LORD	I should think so. He hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me to put off, but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear.
SECOND LORD	In like manner was I in debt to my importunate business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry when he sent to borrow of me that my provision was out.
FIRST LORD	I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go.
SECOND LORD	Every man hears so. What would he have borrowed of you?
FIRST LORD	A thousand pieces.
SECOND LORD	A thousand pieces?
FIRST LORD	What of you?
SECOND LORD	He sent to me, sir—
(didascalia)	Loud music. Enter Timon and attendants
SECOND LORD	Here he comes.
TIMON	With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?
FIRST LORD	Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.
SECOND LORD	The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship.
TIMON	(aside) Nor more willingly leaves winter, such summer birds are men.—Genttemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay. Feast your ears with the music a while, if they will fare so harshly o’th’ trumpets’ sound; we shall to’t presently.
FIRST LORD	I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship that I returned you an empty messenger.
TIMON	O sir, let it not trouble you.
SECOND LORD	My noble lord—
TIMON	Ah, my good friend, what cheer?
(didascalia)	A table and stools are brought in
SECOND 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.
TIMON	Think not on’t, sir.
SECOND LORD	If you had sent but two hours before—
TIMON	Let it not cumber your better remembrance.—Come, bring in all together.
(didascalia)	Enter Servants with covered dishes
SECOND LORD	All covered dishes.
FIRST LORD	Royal cheer, I warrant you.
THIRD LORD	Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it.
FIRST LORD	How do you? What’s the news?
THIRD LORD	Alcibiades is banished. Hear you of it?
FIRST	and SECOND LORDS Alcibiades banished?
THIRD LORD	’Tis so, be sure of it.
FIRST LORD	How, how?
SECOND LORD	I pray you, upon what?
TIMON	My worthy friends, will you draw near?
THIRD LORD	I’ll tell you more anon. Here’s a noble feast toward.
SECOND LORD	This is the old man still.
THIRD LORD	Will’t hold, will’t hold?
SECOND LORD	It does; but time will—and so—
THIRD LORD	I do conceive. 64
TIMON	Each man to his stool with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. They sit You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves praised; but reserve still to give, lest your deities be despised. Lend to each man enough that one need not lend to another; for were your godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a dozen of them be as they are. The rest of your foes, O gods—the senators of Athens, together with the common tag of people—what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them; and to nothing are they welcome.—Uncover, dogs, and lap.
(didascalia)	The dishes are uncovered, and seen to be full of steaming water and stones
SOME LORDS	What does his lordship mean?
OTHER LORDS	I know not.
TIMON	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 with your flattery, Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villainy.
(didascalia)	He throws water in their faces
TIMON	Live loathed 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.
(didascalia)	A Lord is going
TIMON	What, dost thou go? Soft, take thy physic first. Thou too, and thou.
(didascalia)	He beats them
TIMON	Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lords, leaving caps and gowns
TIMON	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!
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter the Senators and other Lords
FIRST LORD	How now, my lords?
SECOND LORD	Know you the quality of Lord Timon’s fury?
THIRD LORD	Push! Did you see my cap?
FOURTH LORD	I have lost my gown.
FIRST LORD	He’s but a mad lord, and naught but humours sways him. He gave me a jewel th’other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you see my jewel?
(didascalia)	THIRD LORD Did you see my cap?
(didascalia)	SECOND LORD
FIRST LORD	Here ’tis.
FOURTH LORD	Here lies my gown.
FIRST LORD	Let’s make no stay.
SECOND LORD	Lord Timon’s mad.
THIRD LORD	I feel’t upon my bones.
FOURTH LORD	One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon
TIMON	Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall That girdles 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‘th’ 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’th’ brothel. Son of sixteen, Pluck the lined crutch from thy 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, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let 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 th’Athenian bosoms, and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, That their society, as their friendship, may Be merely poison!
(didascalia)	He tears off his clothes
TIMON	Nothing I’ll bear from thee But nakedness, thou detestable town; Take thou that too, with multiplying bans. Timon will to the woods, where he shall find Th‘unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confound—hear me you good gods all— Th’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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 4, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, with two or three Servants
FIRST SERVANT	Hear you, master steward, where’s our master? Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?
FLAVIUS	Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded: by the righteous gods, I am as poor as you.
FIRST SERVANT	Such a house broke, So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm And go along with him?
SECOND SERVANT	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 picked; and his poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all-shunned poverty, Walks like contempt alone.
(didascalia)	Enter other Servants
SECOND SERVANT	More of our fellows.
FLAVIUS	All broken implements of a ruined house.
THIRD SERVANT	Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery. That see I by our faces. We are fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our barque, And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck Hearing the surges’ threat. We must all part Into this sea of air.
FLAVIUS	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.’ He gives them money Let each take some. Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more. Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. They embrace, and the Servants part several ways 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 would be so mocked 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 varnished 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, blessed to be most accursed, Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seat Of monstrous friends; Nor has he with him to supply his life, Or that which can command it. I’ll follow and enquire him out. I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will. Whilst I have gold I’ll be his steward still.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 4, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon from his cave in the woods, half naked, and with a spade
TIMON	O blessèd breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity; below thy sister’s orb Infect the air. Twinned brothers of one womb, Whose procreation, residence, and birth Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes, The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune But by contempt of nature. It is the pasture lards the brother’s sides, The want that makes him lean. Raise me this beggar and demit that lord, The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar native honour. 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 grece of fortune Is smoothed by that below. The learnèd pate Ducks to the golden fool. All’s obliquy; There’s nothing level in our cursed natures But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred All feasts, societies, and throngs of men. His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains. Destruction fang mankind. Earth, yield me roots. He digs Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate With thy most operant poison. He finds gold 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 th’accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation With senators on the bench. This is it That makes the wappered widow wed again. She whom the spittle house and ulcerous sores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To th’ April day again. Come, damned earth, Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds Among the rout of nations; I will make thee Do thy right nature. March afar off Ha, a drum! Thou’rt quick; But yet I’ll bury thee. He buries gold Thou’lt go, strong thief, When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. He keeps some gold Nay, stay thou out for earnest.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades, with soldiers playing drum and
TIMON	fife, in warlike manner; and Phrynia and Timandra
ALCIBIADES	What art thou there? Speak.
TIMON	A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart 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, That I might love thee something.
ALCIBIADES	I know thee well, But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.
TIMON	I know thee too, and more than that I know thee I not desire to know. Follow thy drum. 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 cherubin look.
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. 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 maintain my opinion.
ALCIBIADES	What is it, Timon?
TIMON	Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man. If thou dost not perform, confound thee, for 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 blessèd time.
TIMON	As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
TIMANDRA	Is this th’Athenian minion, whom the world Voiced so regardfully?
SIMON	Art thou Timandra?
TIMANDRA	Yes.
TIMON	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.
TIMANDRA	Hang thee, monster!
ALCIBIADES	Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits Are drowned 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 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.
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.
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 conquered.
ALCIBIADES	Why me, Timon?
TIMON	That by killing of villains Thou wast born to conquer my country. Put up thy gold. He gives Alcibiades gold Go on; here’s gold; go on. Be as a planetary plague when Jove Will o’er some high-viced city hang his poison In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one. Pity not honoured 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 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 pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse. Swear against objects. 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.
ALCIBIADES	Hast thou gold yet? I’ll take the gold thou giv’st me, Not all thy counsel.
TIMON	Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven’s curse upon thee!
PHRYNIA	and TIMANDRA Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more?
TIMON	Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, And to make wholesomeness a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, Your aprons mountant.
(didascalia)	He throws gold into their aprons
TIMON	You are not oathable, Although I know you’ll swear, terribly swear, Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues Th’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 pain-sick months Be quite contrary, and thatch your poor thin roofs With burdens of the dead—some that were hanged, No matter. Wear them, betray with them; whore still; Paint till a horse may mire upon your face. A pox of wrinkles!
PHRYNIA	and TIMANDRA Well, more gold; what then? Believe’t that we’ll do anything for gold.
TIMON	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 weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald, And let the unscarred 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; And ditches grave you all!
PHRYNIA	and 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.
TIMON	If I hope well, I’ll never see thee more.
ALCIBIADES	I never did thee harm.
TIMON	Yes, thou spok’st well of me.
ALCIBIADES	Call’st thou that harm?
TIMON	Men daily find it. Get thee away, And take thy beagles with thee.
ALCIBIADES	We but offend him. Strike!
(didascalia)	Exeunt to drum and fife all but Timon
TIMON	That nature, being sick of man’s unkindness, Should yet be hungry! He digs the earth Common mother—thou Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast Teems and feeds all, whose selfsame mettle Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed Engenders the black toad and adder blue, The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm, With all th‘abhorrèd births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperion’s quick’ning fire doth shine— Yield him who all thy human sons do hate From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root. Ensear thy fertile and conceptions 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. He finds a root O, 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!—
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus
TIMON	More man? Plague, plague!
APEMANTUS	I was directed hither. Men report 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 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 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 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.
TIMON	Were I like thee, I’d 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 mossed trees That have outlived 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’ernight’s surfeit? Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhousèd trunks To the conflicting elements exposed Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee. O, thou shalt find—
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.
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?
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 enforcèdly. Thou’dst courtier be again Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned 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.
TIMON	Not by his breath that is more miserable. Thou art a slave whom fortune’s tender arm With favour never clasped, but bred a dog. Hadst thou like us from our first swathe proceeded The sweet degrees that this brief world affords To such as may the passive drudges of it Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself In general riot, melted down thy youth In different beds of lust, and never learned The icy precepts of respect, but followed The sugared 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 flattered 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.
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. 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. He bites the root
(didascalia)	APEMANTUS offering food Here, I will mend thy feast.
TIMON	First mend my company: take away thyself.
APEMANTUS	So I shall mend mine own by th’ lack of thine.
TIMON	’Tis not well mended so, it is but botched; If not, I would it were.
APEMANTUS	What wouldst thou have to Athens?
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.
APEMANTUS	Where liest a-nights, Timon?
TIMON	Under that’s above me. Where feed’st thou a-days, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Where my stomach finds meat; or rather, where I eat it.
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 and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou know’st none, but art despised for the contrary. There’s a medlar for thee; eat it.
TIMON	On what I hate I feed not.
APEMANTUS	Dost hate a medlar?
TIMON	Ay, though it look like thee.
APEMANTUS	An thou’dst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?
TIMON	Who, without those means thou talk’st of, didst thou ever know beloved?
APEMANTUS	Myself.
TIMON	I understand thee: thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
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?
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‘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 dullness would torment thee, and still thou lived’st 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 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!
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 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. 356
TIMON	When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar’s dog than Apemantus.
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.
TIMON	If I name thee. I’d 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. I swoon to see thee.
APEMANTUS	Would thou wouldst burst!
TIMON	Away, thou tedious rogue!
(didascalia)	He throws a stone at Apemantus
TIMON	I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.
APEMANTUS	Beast!
TIMON	Slave!
APEMANTUS	Toad!
TIMON	Rogue, rogue, rogue! I am sick of this false world, and will love naught But even the mere necessities upon’t. Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave. Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat Thy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph, That death in me at others’ lives may laugh. He looks on 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 That lies on Dian’s lap; thou visible god, That sold’rest 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.
APEMANTUS	Would ’twere so, But not till I am dead. I’ll say thou’st gold. Thou wilt be thronged to shortly.
TIMON	Thronged to?
APEMANTUS	Ay.
TIMON	Thy back, I prithee.
APEMANTUS	Live, and love thy misery.
TIMON	Long live so, and so die. I am quit.
(didascalia)	Enter the Banditti, thieves
APEMANTUS	More things like men. Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
(didascalia)	Exit
FIRST THIEF	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.
SECOND THIEF	It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.
THIRD 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?
SECOND THIEF	True, for he bears it not about him; ’tis hid.
FIRST THIEF	Is not this he?
OTHER THIEVES	Where?
SECOND THIEF	’Tis his description.
THIRD THIEF	He, I know him.
ALL THIEVES	(coming forward) Save thee, Timon.
TIMON	Now, thieves.
ALL THIEVES	Soldiers, not thieves.
TIMON	Both, too, and women’s sons.
ALL THIEVES	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.
(didascalia)	Within this mile break forth a hundred springs.
TIMON	The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips. The bounteous housewife nature on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? Why want?
FIRST THIEF	We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes.
TIMON	Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con That you are thieves professed, that you work not In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft In limited professions. (Giving gold) Rascal thieves, Here’s gold. Go suck the subtle blood o‘th’ grape Till the high fever seethe 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 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 gen‘ral excrement. Each thing’s a thief. The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Has unchecked 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 no less for this I give you, And gold confound you howsoe’er. Amen.
THIRD THIEF	He’s almost charmed me from my profession by persuading me to it.
FIRST THIEF	’Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery.
SECOND THIEF	I’ll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.
FIRST THIEF	Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so miserable but a man may be true.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Thieves
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius to Timon
FLAVIUS	O you gods! Is yon despised and ruinous man my lord, Full of decay and failing? O monument And wonder of good deeds evilly bestowed! What an alteration of honour has desp’rate 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 wished to love his enemies! Grant I may ever love and rather woo Those that would mischief me than those that do! Timon sees him He’s 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	Away! What art thou?
FLAVIUS	Have you forgot me, sir?
TIMON	Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; Then if thou grant‘st thou’rt 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; ay, all I kept were knaves, To serve in meat to villains.
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 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, T’accept my grief,
(didascalia)	He offers his money
FLAVIUS	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. 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, 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, 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, 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. You should have feared 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 honoured lord, For any benefit that points to me, Either in hope or present, I’d exchange For this one wish: that you had power and wealth To requite me by making rich yourself.
TIMON	Look thee, ’tis so. Thou singly honest man,
(didascalia)	He gives Flavius gold
TIMON	Here, take. The gods, out of my misery, Has sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy, But thus conditioned: thou shalt build from men, Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, But let the famished flesh slide from the bone Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs What thou deniest to men. Let prisons swallow ‘em, Debts wither ’em to nothing; be men like blasted woods, 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 hat’st curses, Stay not. Fly whilst thou art blest and free. Ne’er see thou man, and let me ne’er see thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Timon into his cave, Flavius another way

Atto 5, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Poet and Painter
PAINTER	As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides.
POET	What’s to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true that he’s so full of gold?
PAINTER	Certain. Alcibiades reports it. Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him. He likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. ’Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.
POET	Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends?
PAINTER	Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore ’tis 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 travail for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having.
POET	What have you now to present unto him?
PAINTER	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.
PAINTER	Good as the best.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon from his cave, unobserved
PAINTER	Promising is the very air o’th’ 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 judgement that makes it.
TIMON	(aside) Excellent workman, thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself.
POET	(to Painter) 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.
TIMON	(aside) 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	(to Painter) Nay, let’s seek him. Then do we sin against our own estate When we may profit meet and come too late.
PAINTER	True. When the day serves, before black-cornered night, Find what thou want’st by free and offered fight. Come.
TIMON	(aside) I’ll meet you at the turn. What a god’s gold, That he is worshipped in a baser temple Than where swine feed! ‘Tis thou that rigg’st the barque and plough’st the foam, Settlest admired reverence in a slave. To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey. Fit I meet them. He comes forward to them
POET	Hail, worthy Timon!
PAINTER	Our late noble master!
TIMON	Have I once lived to see two honest men?
POET	Sir, having often of your open bounty tasted, Hearing you were retired, your friends fall’n off, Whose thankless natures, O abhorred spirits, Not all the whips of heaven are large enough— What, to you, Whose star-like nobleness gave life and infiuence To their whole being! I am rapt, and cannot cover The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude With any size of words.
TIMON	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.
PAINTER	He and myself Have travelled in the great show’r of your gifts, And sweetly felt it.
TIMON	Ay, you are honest men.
PAINTER	We are hither come to offer you our service.
TIMON	Most honest men. Why, how shall I requite you? Can you eat roots and drink cold water? No.
POET	and PAINTER What we can do we’ll do to do you service.
TIMON	You’re honest men. You’ve heard that I have gold, I am sure you have. Speak truth; you’re honest men.
PAINTER	So it is said, my noble lord, but therefor Came not my friend nor I.
TIMON	Good honest men. (To Painter) Thou draw‘st a counterfeit Best in all Athens; thou’rt indeed the best; Thou counterfeit’st most lively.
PAINTER	So so, my lord.
TIMON	E‘en so, sir, as I say. (To Poet) And for thy fiction, Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth That thou art even natural in thine art. But for all this, my honest-natured friends, I must needs say you have a little fault. Marry, ’tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I You take much pains to mend.
POET	and PAINTER Beseech your honour To make it known to us.
TIMON	You’ll take it ill.
POET	and PAINTER Most thankfully, my lord.
TIMON	Will you indeed?
POET	and PAINTER Doubt it not, worthy lord.
TIMON	There’s never a one of you but trusts a knave That mightily deceives you.
POET	and PAINTER Do we, my lord?
TIMON	Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, Keep in your bosom; yet remain assured That he’s a made-up villain.
PAINTER	I know none such, my lord.
POET	Nor I.
TIMON	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.
POET	and PAINTER Name them, my lord, let’s know them.
TIMON	You that way and you this—but two in company- Each man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
(didascalia)	To Painter If where thou art two villains shall not be,
(didascalia)	Come not near him. To Poet If thou wouldst not
TIMON	reside But where one villain is, then him abandon.
(didascalia)	Hence; pack! Striking him There’s gold. You came
TIMON	for gold, ye slaves.
(didascalia)	Striking Painter You have work for me; there’s
TIMON	payment. Hence!
(didascalia)	Striking Poet You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
(didascalia)	Out, rascal dogs! Exeunt Poet and Painter one way,
(didascalia)	Timon into his cave

Atto 5, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius and two Senators
FLAVIUS	It is in 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.
FIRST SENATOR	Bring us to his cave. It is our part and promise to th’ Athenians To speak with Timon.
SECOND SENATOR	At all times alike Men are not still the same. ’Twas time and griefs That framed 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.
FLAVIUS	Here is his cave. (Calling) Peace and content be here! Lord Timon, Timon, Look out and speak to friends. Th’Athenians By two of their most reverend senate greet thee. Speak to them, noble Timon.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon out of his cave
TIMON	Thou sun that comforts, burn! Speak and be hanged. For each true word a blister, and each false Be as a cantherizing to the root o’th’ tongue, Consuming it with speaking.
FIRST SENATOR	Worthy Timon—
TIMON	Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.
FIRST SENATOR	The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
TIMON	I thank them, and would send them back the plague Could I but catch it for them.
FIRST SENATOR	O, forget What we are sorry for, ourselves in thee. The senators with one consent of love Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought On special dignities which vacant lie For thy best use and wearing.
SECOND SENATOR	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 it own fail, 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.
TIMON	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.
FIRST SENATOR	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, Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades th’approaches wild, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up His country’s peace.
SECOND SENATOR	And shakes his threat’ning sword Against the walls of Athens.
FIRST SENATOR	Therefore, Timon—
TIMON	Well, sir, I will; therefore I will, sir, thus. If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon: That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens, And take our goodly aged men by th’ beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brained war, Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it In pity of our aged and our youth, I cannot choose but tell him that I care not; And-let him take’t at worst—for their knives care not While you have throats to answer. For myself, There’s not a whittle in th’ unruly camp But I do prize it at my love before The reverend’st throat in Athens. So I leave you To the protection of the prosperous gods, As thieves to keepers.
FLAVIUS	(to Senators) Stay not; all’s in vain.
TIMON	Why, I was writing of my epitaph. It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness Of health and living now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go; live still. Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough.
FIRST SENATOR	We speak in vain.
TIMON	But yet I love my country, and am not One that rejoices in the common wrack As common bruit doth put it.
FIRST SENATOR	That’s well spoke.
TIMON	Commend me to my loving countrymen—
FIRST SENATOR	These words become your lips as they pass through them.
SECOND SENATOR	And enter in our ears like great triumphers In their applauding gates.
TIMON	Commend me to them, And tell them that to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature’s fragile vessel doth sustain In life’s uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them. I’ll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades’ wrath.
FIRST SENATOR	(aside) I like this well; he will return again.
TIMON	I have a tree which grows here in my close That mine own use invites me to cut down, And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends, Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree From high to low throughout, that whoso please To stop affliction, let him take his haste, Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe, And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
FLAVIUS	(to Senators) Trouble him no further. Thus you still shall find him.
TIMON	Come not to me again, but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood, Who once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come, And let my gravestone be your oracle. lips, let four words go by, and language end. What is amiss, plague and infection mend. Graves only be men’s works, and death their gain. Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign.
(didascalia)	Exit into his
(didascalia)	cave
FIRST SENATOR	His discontents are unremovably Coupled to nature.
SECOND SENATOR	Our hope in him is dead. Let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril.
FIRST SENATOR	It requires swift foot.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger
(didascalia)	THIRD SENATOR
(didascalia)	Thou hast painfully discovered. Are his files As full as thy report?
MESSENGER	I have spoke the least. Besides, his expedition promises Present approach.
(didascalia)	FOURTH SENATOR
MESSENGER	We stand much hazard if they bring not Timon.
MESSENGER	I met a courier, one mine ancient friend, Whom, though in general part we were opposed, Yet our old love made a particular force And made us speak like friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timon’s cave With letters of entreaty which imported His fellowship i’th’ cause against your city, In part for his sake moved.
(didascalia)	Enter the other Senators
(didascalia)	THIRD SENATOR
MESSENGER	Here come our brothers.
(didascalia)	FIRST SENATOR
MESSENGER	No talk of Timon; nothing of him expect. The enemy’s drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare. Ours is the fall, I fear, our foe’s the snare. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter a Soldier, in the woods, seeking Timon
SOLDIER	By all description, this should be the place. Who’s here? Speak, ho! No answer?
(didascalia)	He discovers a gravestone
SOLDIER	What is this? Dead, sure, and this his grave. What’s on this tomb I cannot read. The character I’ll take with wax. Our captain hath in every figure skill, An aged interpreter, though young in days. Before proud Athens he’s set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. Exit

Atto 5, Scena 5

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his powers, before Athens
(didascalia)	Sound to this coward and lascivious town
ALCIBIADES	Our terrible approach. A parley sounds. The Senators appear upon the walls Till now you have gone on and filled the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice. Till now myself and such As slept within the shadow of your power Have wandered with our traversed arms, and breathed Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong, Cries of itself ‘No more’; now breathless wrong Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, And pursy insolence shall break his wind With fear and horrid flight.
FIRST SENATOR	Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, We sent to thee to give thy rages balm, To wipe out our ingratitude with loves Above their quantity.
SECOND SENATOR	So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city’s love By humble message and by promised means. We were not all unkind, nor all deserve The common stroke of war.
FIRST SENATOR	These walls of ours Were not erected by their hands from whom You have received your grief; nor are they such That these great tow’rs, trophies, and schools should fall For private faults in them.
SECOND SENATOR	Nor are they living Who were the motives that you first went out. Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess, Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, Into our city with thy banners spread. By decimation and a tithed death, If thy revenges hunger for that food Which nature loathes, take thou the destined tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted die Let die the spotted.
FIRST SENATOR	All have not offended. For those that were, it is not square to take, On those that are, revenges. Crimes like lands Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage. Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall With those that have offended. Like a shepherd Approach the fold and cull th’infected forth, But kill not all together.
SECOND SENATOR	What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile Than hew to’t with thy sword.
FIRST SENATOR	Set but thy foot Against our rampired gates and they shall ope, So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before To say thou’lt enter friendly.
SECOND SENATOR	Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour else, That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress, And not as our confusion. All thy powers Shall make their harbour in our town till we Have sealed thy full desire.
(didascalia)	ALCIBIADES throwing up a glove
SECOND SENATOR	Then there’s my glove. Descend, and open your uncharged ports. Those enemies of Timon’s and mine own Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof Fall, and no more; and to atone your fears With my more noble meaning, not a man Shall pass his quarter or offend the stream Of regular justice in your city’s bounds But shall be remedied to your public laws At heaviest answer.
BOTH SENATORS	’Tis most nobly spoken.
ALCIBIADES	Descend, and keep your words.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Exeunt Senators from the walls.
(didascalia)	Enter Soldier, with a tablet of wax
SOLDIER	My noble general, Timon is dead, Entombed upon the very hem o’th’ sea; And on his gravestone this insculpture, which With wax I brought away, whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance. Alcibiades reads the epitaph
ALCIBIADES	‘Here lies a wretched corpse, Of wretched soul bereft. Seek not my name. A plague consume You wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon, who alive All living men did hate. Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass And stay not here thy gait.’ These well express in thee thy latter spirits. Though thou abhorred‘st in us our human griefs, Scorned’st our brains’ flow and those our droplets which From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead Is noble Timon, of whose memory Hereafter more.
(didascalia)	Enter Senators through the gates
ALCIBIADES	Bring me into your city, And I will use the olive with my sword, Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each Prescribe to other as each other’s leech. Let our drums strike.
(didascalia)	Drums. Exeunt through
ALCIBIADES	the
(didascalia)	gates
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE	(ADAPTED BY THOMAS MIDDLETON)
SHORTLY	after James VI of Scotland succeeded to the English throne, in 1603, he gave his patronage to Shakespeare’s company; the Lord Chamberlain’s Men became the King’s Men, entering into a special relationship with their sovereign. Macbeth is the play of Shakespeare’s that most clearly reflects this relationship. James regarded the virtuous and noble Banquo, Macbeth’s comrade at the start of the action, as his direct ancestor; eight Stuart kings were said to have preceded James, just as, in the play, Banquo points to ‘a show of eight kings’ as his descendants (4.1.127.1-140); and in the play the English king (historically Edward the Confessor) is praised for the capacity, on which James also prided himself, to cure ’the king’s evil’ (scrofula). Macbeth is obviously a Jacobean play, composed probably in 1606. But the first printed text, in the 1623 Folio, shows signs of having been adapted at a later date. It is exceptionally short by comparison with Shakespeare’s other tragedies; and it includes episodes which there is good reason to believe are not by Shakespeare. Most conspicuous are Act 3, Scene 5 and parts of Act 4, Scene I: 38.I-60 and 141-8.1. These episodes feature Hecate, who does not appear elsewhere in the play; they are composed largely in octosyllabic couplets in a style conspicuously different from the rest of the play; and they call for the performance of two songs that are found in The Witch, a play of uncertain date by Thomas Middleton. Probably Middleton himself adapted Shakespeare’s play some years after its first performance, adding these and more localized details, and cutting the play elsewhere. We do not attempt to excise passages most clearly written by Middleton, because the adapter’s hand almost certainly affected the text at other, less determinable points. The Folio text of Macbeth cites only the opening words of the songs; drawing on The Witch, we attempt a reconstruction of their staging in Macbeth. Shakespeare took materials for his story from the account in Raphael Holinshed’s Chronicle of the reigns of Duncan and Macbeth (AD 1034-57). Occasionally (especially in the English episodes of Act 4, Scene 2) he closely followed Holinshed’s wording, but essentially the play’s structure is his own. He invented the framework of the three witches who tempted both Macbeth and Banquo with prophecies of greatness. His Macbeth is both more introspective and more intensely evil than the competent warrior-king portrayed by Holinshed; conversely, Shakespeare made Duncan, the king whom Macbeth murders, far more venerable and saintly. Some of the play’s features, notably the character of Lady Macbeth, originate in Holinshed’s account of the murder of an earlier Scottish king, Duff; he was killed in his castle at Forres by Donwald, who had been ‘set on’ by his wife. Macbeth is an exciting story of witchcraft, murder, and retribution that can also be seen as a study in the philosophy and psychology of evil. The witches are not easily made credible in modern performances, and Shakespeare seems deliberately to have drained colour away from some parts of his composition in order to concentrate attention on Macbeth and his Lady. It is Macbeth’s neurotic self-absorption, his fear, his anger, and his despair, along with his wife’s steely determination, her invoking of the powers of evil, and her eventual revelation in sleep of her repressed humanity, that have given the play its long-proven power to fascinate readers and to challenge performers.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY
KING DUNCAN	of Scotland A CAPTAIN in Duncan’s army MACBETH, Thane of Glamis, later Thane of Cawdor, then King of Scotland A PORTER at Macbeth’s castle Three MURDERERS attending on Macbeth SEYTON, servant of Macbeth
LADY	MACBETH, Macbeth’s wife BANQUO, a Scottish thane FLEANCE, his son MACDUFF, Thane of Fife
LADY	MACDUFF, his wife
MACDUFF’S SON	SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland
YOUNG	SIWARD, his son An English DOCTOR HECATE, Queen of the Witches Six WITCHES Three APPARITIONS, one an armed head, one a bloody child, one a child crowned A SPIRIT LIKE A CAT Other SPIRITS An OLD MAN A MESSENGER
SERVANTS	A show of eight kings; Lords and Thanes, attendants, soldiers, drummers

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Poet at one door, Painter carrying a picture [at another door], [followed by] Jeweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at several doors
POET	Good day, sir.
PAINTER	I am glad you’re well.
POET	I have not seen you long. How goes the world?
PAINTER	It wears, sir, as it grows.
POET	Ay, that’s well known. But what particular rarity, what strange, Which manifold record not matches?—See, Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power Hath conjured to attend.
(didascalia)	Merchant and Jeweller meet. Mercer passes over
(didascalia)	the stage, and exits
POET	I know the merchant.
PAINTER	I know them both. Th’other’s a jeweller.
MERCHANT	(to Jeweller) O, ’tis a worthy lord!
JEWELLER	Nay, that’s most fixed.
MERCHANT	A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness. He passes.
JEWELLER	(showing a jewel) I have a jewel here.
MERCHANT	O, pray, let’s see’t. For the Lord Timon, sir?
JEWELLER	If he will touch the estimate. But for that—
POET	(to himself) ‘When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.’
MERCHANT	(to Jeweller) ’Tis a good form.
JEWELLER	And rich. Here is a water, look ye.
PAINTER	(to Poet) You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord.
POET	A thing slipped idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum which oozes From whence ‘tis nourished. The fire i’th’ flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself, and like the current flies Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
PAINTER	A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
POET	Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let’s see your piece.
PAINTER	(showing the picture) ’Tis a good piece.
POET	So ’tis. This comes off well and excellent.
PAINTER	Indifferent.
POET	Admirable. How this grace Speaks his own standing! What a mental power This eye shoots forth! How big imagination Moves in this lip! To th’ dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.
PAINTER	It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is’t good?
POET	I will say of it, It tutors nature. Artificial strife Lives in these touches livelier than life.
(didascalia)	Enter certain Senators
PAINTER	How this lord is followed!
POET	The senators of Athens. Happy man!
PAINTER	Look, more.
(didascalia)	The Senators pass over the stage, and exeunt]
POET	You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have in this rough work shaped out a man Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment. My free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself In a wide sea of tax. No levelled malice Infects one comma in the course I hold, But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
PAINTER	How shall I understand you?
POET	I will unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, As well of glib and slipp’ry creatures as Of grave and austere quality, tender down Their service to Lord Timon. His large fortune, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself; even he drops down The knee before him, and returns in peace, Most rich in Timon’s nod.
PAINTER	I saw them speak together.
POET	Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o’th’ mount Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states. Amongst them all Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed One do I personate of Lord Timon’s frame, Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her, Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals.
PAINTER	’Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckoned from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well expressed In our condition.
POET	Nay, sir, but hear me on. All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Drink the free air.
PAINTER	Ay, marry, what of these?
POET	When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants, Which laboured after him to the mountain’s top Even on their knees and hands, let him fall down, Not one accompanying his declining foot.
PAINTER	’Tis common. A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune’s More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Enter Timon [wearing a rich
PAINTER	jewell, with a Messenger from Ventidius; Lucilius
(didascalia)	and other Servants] attending. Timon addresses
PAINTER	himself courteously to every suitor, then speaks to the Messenger
TIMON	Imprisoned is he, say you?
MESSENGER	Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt, His means most short, his creditors most strait. Your honourable letter he desires To those have shut him up, which failing, Periods his comfort.
TIMON	Noble Ventidius! Well, I am not of that feather to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman that well deserves a help, Which he shall have. I’ll pay the debt and free him.
MESSENGER	Your lordship ever binds him.
TIMON	Commend me to him. I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me. ’Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well.
MESSENGER	All happiness to your honour. Exit
(didascalia)	Enter an Old Athenian
OLD ATHENIAN	Lord Timon, hear me speak.
TIMON	Freely, good father.
OLD ATHENIAN	Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
TIMON	I have so. What of him?
OLD ATHENIAN	Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
TIMON	Attends he here or no? Lucilius!
LUCILIUS	(coming forward) Here at your lordship’s service.
OLD ATHENIAN	This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, By night frequents my house. I am a man That from my first have been inclined to thrift, And my estate deserves an heir more raised Than one which holds a trencher.
TIMON	Well, what further?
OLD ATHENIAN	One only daughter have I, no kin else On whom I may confer what I have got. The maid is fair, o’th’ youngest for a bride, And I have bred her at my dearest cost In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort. Myself have spoke in vain.
TIMON	The man is honest.
OLD ATHENIAN	Therefore he will be, Timon. His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter.
TIMON	Does she love him?
OLD ATHENIAN	She is young and apt. Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity’s in youth.
TIMON	(to Lucilius) Love you the maid?
LUCILIUS	Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
OLD ATHENIAN	If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.
TIMON	How shall she be endowed If she be mated with an equal husband?
OLD ATHENIAN	Three talents on the present; in future, all.
TIMON	This gentleman of mine hath served me long. To build his fortune I will strain a little, For ’tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter. What you bestow in him I’ll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.
OLD ATHENIAN	Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
TIMON	My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
LUCILIUS	Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping Which is not owed to you.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian
POET	(presenting a poem to Timon) Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
TIMON	I thank you. You shall hear from me anon. Go not away. (To Painter) What have you there, my friend?
PAINTER	A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.
TIMON	Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; For since dishonour traffics with man’s nature, He is but outside; these pencilled figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work, And you shall find I like it. Wait attendance Till you hear further from me.
PAINTER	The gods preserve ye!
TIMON	Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand. We must needs dine together. (To Jeweller) Sir, your jewel Hath suffered under praise.
JEWELLER	What, my lord, dispraise?
TIMON	A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extolled It would unclew me quite.
JEWELLER	My lord, ’tis rated As those which sell would give; but you well know Things of like value differing in the owners Are prized by their masters. Believe’t, dear lord, You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
TIMON	Well mocked.
MERCHANT	No, my good lord, he speaks the common tongue Which all men speak with him.
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus
TIMON	Look who comes here. Will you be chid?
JEWELLER	We will bear, with your lordship.
MERCHANT	He’ll spare none.
TIMON	Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
APEMANTUS	Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow— When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
TIMON	Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know’st them not.
APEMANTUS	Are they not Athenians?
TIMON	Yes.
APEMANTUS	Then I repent not.
JEWELLER	You know me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Thou know’st I do. I called thee by thy name.
TIMON	Thou art proud, Apemantus!
APEMANTUS	Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
TIMON	Whither art going?
APEMANTUS	To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.
TIMON	That’s a deed thou’It die for.
APEMANTUS	Right, if doing nothing be death by th’ law.
TIMON	How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	The best for the innocence.
TIMON	Wrought he not well that painted it?
APEMANTUS	He wrought better that made the painter, and yet he’s but a filthy piece of work.
PAINTER	You’re a dog.
APEMANTUS	Thy mother’s of my generation. What’s she, if I be a dog?
TIMON	Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	No, I eat not lords.
TIMON	An thou shouldst, thou’dst anger ladies.
APEMANTUS	O, they eat lords. So they come by great bellies.
TIMON	That’s a lascivious apprehension.
APEMANTUS	So thou apprehend’st it; take it for thy labour.
TIMON	How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Not so well as plain dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.
TIMON	What dost thou think ’tis worth?
APEMANTUS	Not worth my thinking. How now, poet?
POET	How now, philosopher?
APEMANTUS	Thou liest.
POET	Art not one?
APEMANTUS	Yes.
POET	Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS	Art not a poet?
POET	Yes.
APEMANTUS	Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
POET	That’s not feigned, he is so.
APEMANTUS	Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered is worthy o’th’ flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
TIMON	What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	E’en as Apemantus does now: hate a lord with my heart.
TIMON	What, thyself?
APEMANTUS	Ay.
TIMON	Wherefore?
APEMANTUS	That I had no augury but to be a lord.-Art not thou a merchant?
MERCHANT	Ay, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS	Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
MERCHANT	If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS	Traffic’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!
(didascalia)	Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
TIMON	What trumpet’s that?
MESSENGER	’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse All of companionship.
TIMON	(to Servants) Pray entertain them. Give them guide to us. [Exit one or more Servants] [To Jeweller] You must needs dine with me. [To Poet] Go not you hence Till I have thanked you. [To Painter] When dinner’s done Show me this piece. [To all] I am joyful of your sights.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades with [his horsemen]
TIMON	Most welcome, sir!
APEMANTUS	[aside] So, so, there. Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves, And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out Into baboon and monkey.
ALCIBIADES	(to Timon) Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight.
TIMON	Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Apemantus
(didascalia)	Enter two Lords
FIRST LORD	What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Time to be honest.
FIRST LORD	That time serves still.
APEMANTUS	The most accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.
SECOND LORD	Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?
APEMANTUS	Ay, to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.
SECOND LORD	Fare thee well, fare thee well.
APEMANTUS	Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
SECOND LORD	Why, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.
FIRST LORD	Hang thyself
APEMANTUS	No, I will do nothing at thy bidding. Make thy requests to thy friend.
SECOND LORD	Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence.
APEMANTUS	I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’th’ ass.
(didascalia)	Exit
FIRST LORD	He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? He outgoes The very heart of kindness.
SECOND LORD	He pours it out. Plutus the god of gold Is but his steward; no meed but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.
FIRST LORD	The noblest mind he carries That ever governed man.
SECOND LORD	Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
(didascalia)	FIRST LORD I’ll keep you company. Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in, Flavius and Servants attending; and then enter Timon, Alcibiades, the Senators, the Athenian Lords, and Ventidius which Timon redeemed from prison. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself
VENTIDIUS	Most honoured Timon, it hath pleased the gods to remember My father’s age and call him to long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich. Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound To your free heart, I do return those talents, Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help I derived liberty.
TIMON	O, by no means, Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love. I gave it freely ever, and there’s none Can truly say he gives if he receives. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare To imitate them. Faults that are rich are fair.
VENTIDIUS	A noble spirit!
(didascalia)	The Lords stand with ceremony
TIMON	Nay, my lords, Ceremony was but devised at first To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown; But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray sit. More welcome are ye to my fortunes Than my fortunes to me.
(didascalia)	They sit
FIRST LORD	My lord, we always have confessed it.
APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, confessed it? Hanged it, have you not?
TIMON	O, Apemantus! You are welcome.
APEMANTUS	No, You shall not make me welcome. I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
TIMON	Fie, thou‘rt a churl. Ye’ve got a humour there Does not become a man; ’tis much to blame. They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est, But yon man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself, For he does neither affect company Nor is he fit for’t, indeed.
APEMANTUS	Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon. I come to observe, I give thee warning on’t.
TIMON	I take no heed of thee; thou’rt an Athenian, Therefore welcome. I myself would have no power: Prithee, let my meat make thee silent.
APEMANTUS	I scorn thy meat. ‘Twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ‘em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one man’s blood; and all the madness is, he cheers them up, too. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men. Methinks they should invite them without knives: Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. There’s much example for’t. The fellow that sits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him. ’T’as been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals, Lest they should spy my windpipe’s dangerous notes. Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
TIMON	(drinking to a Lord) My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
SECOND LORD	Let it flow this way, my good lord.
APEMANTUS	‘Flow this way’? A brave fellow; he keeps his tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner: Honest water, which ne‘er left man i’th’ mire. This and my food are equals; there’s no odds. Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. Apemantus’ grace Immortal gods, I crave no pelf. I pray for no man but myself. Grant I may never prove so fond To trust man on his oath or bond, Or a harlot for her weeping, Or a dog that seems a-sleeping, Or a keeper with my freedom, Or my friends if I should need ’em. Amen. So fall to’t. Rich men sin, and I eat root.
(didascalia)	He eats
APEMANTUS	Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus.
TIMON	Captain Alcibiades, your heart’s in the field now.
ALCIBIADES	My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
TIMON	You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a dinner of friends.
ALCISIADES	So they were bleeding new, my lord; there’s no meat like ’em. I could wish my best friend at such a feast.
APEMANTUS	Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, That thou mightst kill ‘em and bid me to ’em.
FIRST LORD	(to Timon) Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.
TIMON	O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. ‘O you gods,’ think I, ‘what need we have any friends if we should ne’er have need of ‘em? They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne’er have use for ‘em, and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keeps their sounds to themselves.’ Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort ‘tis to have so many like brothers commanding one another’s fortunes! O, joy’s e’en made away ere’t can be born: mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their faults, I drink to you.
APEMANTUS	Thou weep’st to make them drink, Timon.
SECOND LORD	(to Timon) Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
THIRD LORD	(to Timon) I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
APEMANTUS	Much! A tucket sounds within
TIMON	What means that trump?
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant
TIMON	How now?
SERVANT	Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.
TIMON	Ladies? What are their wills?
SERVANT	There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office to signify their pleasures.
TIMON	I pray let them be admitted.
(didascalia)	Enter one as Cupid
CUPID	Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all That of his bounties taste! The five best senses Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th’ear, Taste, touch, smell, all, pleased from thy table rise. They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
TIMON	They’re welcome all. Let ’em have kind admittance.
(didascalia)	Music make their welcome! Exit Cupid
(didascalia)	FIRST LORD
TIMON	You see, my lord, how ample you’re beloved.
(didascalia)	Music. Enter a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing
APEMANTUS	Hey-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! They dance? They are madwomen. Like madness is the glory of this life As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves, And spend our flatteries to drink those men Upon whose age we void it up again With poisonous spite and envy. Who lives that’s not depraved or depraves? Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves Of their friends’ gift? I should fear those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me. ’T’as been done. Men shut their doors against a setting sun. The Lords rise from table with much adoring of Timon; and to show their loves each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys; and cease
TIMON	You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, Which was not half so beautiful and kind. You have added worth unto’t and lustre, And entertained me with mine own device. I am to thank you for’t.
(didascalia)	FIRST LADY
TIMON	My lord, you take us even at the best.
APEMANTUS	Faith; for the worst is filthy, and would not hold taking, I doubt me.
TIMON	Ladies, there is an idle banquet ’tends you. Please you to dispose yourselves.
ALL LADIES	Most thankfully, my lord. Exeunt Ladies
TIMON	Flavius.
FLAVIUS	My lord.
TIMON	The little casket bring me hither.
FLAVIUS	Yes, my lord. (Aside) More jewels yet? There is no crossing him in’s humour, Else I should tell him well, i‘faith I should. When all’s spent, he’d be crossed then, an he could. ’Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, That man might ne’er be wretched for his mind. Exit
FIRST LORD	Where be our men?
SERVANT	Here, my lord, in readiness.
(didascalia)	SECOND LORD Our horses. Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius with the casket. He gives it to Timon, and exits
TIMON	O my friends, I have one word to say to you. Look you, my good lord, I must entreat you honour me so much As to advance this jewel. Accept and wear it, Kind my lord.
FIRST LORD	I am so far already in your gifts.
ALL LORDS	So are we all. Timon gives them jewels.
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant
FIRST SERVANT	My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate newly alighted and come to visit you.
TIMON	They are fairly welcome. Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius
FLAVIUS	I beseech your honour, vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.
TIMON	Near? Why then, another time I’ll hear thee. I prithee, let’s be provided to show them entertainment.
FLAVIUS	I scarce know how.
(didascalia)	Enter a Second Servant
SECOND SERVANT	May it please your honour, Lord Lucius Out of his free love hath presented to you Four milk-white horses trapped in silver.
TIMON	I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents Be worthily entertained.
(didascalia)	Exit Servant
(didascalia)	Enter a Third Servant
TIMON	How now, what news?
THIRD SERVANT	Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman Lord Lucullus entreats your company tomorrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.
TIMON	I’ll hunt with him, and let them be received Not without fair reward. Exit Servant
FLAVIUS	(aside) What will this come to? He commands us to provide and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer; Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this: To show him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good. His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes For every word. He is so kind that he now Pays interest for’t. His land’s put to their books. Well, would I were gently put out of office Before I were forced out. Happier is he that has no friend to feed Than such that do e’en enemies exceed. I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit
TIMON	(to the Lords) You do yourselves Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits. (To Second Lord) Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
SECOND LORD	With more than common thanks I will receive it.
THIRD LORD	O, he’s the very soul of bounty!
TIMON	(to First Lord) And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. ’Tis yours, because you liked it.
FIRST LORD	O I beseech you pardon me, my lord, in that.
TIMON	You may take my word, my lord, I know no man Can justly praise but what he does affect. I weigh my friends’ affection with mine own. I’ll tell you true, I’ll call to you.
ALL LORDS	O, none so welcome.
TIMON	I take all and your several visitations So kind to heart, ‘tis not enough to give. Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends, And ne’er be weary. Alcibiades, Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
(didascalia)	Giving a present It comes in charity to thee, for all
TIMON	thy living Is ’mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast Lie in a pitched field.
ALCIBIADES	Ay, defiled land, my lord.
FIRST LORD	We are so virtuously bound—
TIMON	And so am I to you.
SECOND LORD	So infinitely endeared—
TIMON	All to you. Lights, more lights!
FIRST LORD	The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes Keep with you, Lord Timon.
TIMON	Ready for his friends.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Timon and Apemantus
APEMANTUS	What a coil’s here, Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums That are given for ’em. Friendship’s full of dregs. Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs. Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtseys.
TIMON	Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen I would be good to thee.
APEMANTUS	No, I’ll nothing; for if I should be bribed too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou giv’st so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly. What needs these feasts, pomps, and vainglories?
TIMON	Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come with better music. Exit
APEMANTUS SO.	Thou wilt not hear me now, thou shalt not then. I’ll lock thy heaven from thee. O, that men’s ears should be To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter a Senator With bonds
SENATOR	And late five thousand. To Varro and to Isidore He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum, Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion Of raging waste! It cannot hold, it will not. If I want gold, steal but a beggar’s dog And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. If I would sell my horse and buy twenty more Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon— Ask nothing, give it him—it foals me straight, And able horses. No porter at his gate, But rather one that smiles and still invites All that pass by. It cannot hold. No reason Can sound his state in safety. Caphis ho! Caphis, I say!
(didascalia)	Enter Caphis
CAPHIS	Here, sir. What is your pleasure?
SENATOR	Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon. Importune him for my moneys. Be not ceased With slight denial, nor then silenced when ‘Commend me to your master’, and the cap Plays in the right hand, thus; but tell him My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn Out of mine own, his days and times are past, And my reliances on his fracted dates Have smit my credit. I love and honour him, But must not break my back to heal his finger. Immediate are my needs, and my relief Must not be tossed and turned to me in words, But find supply immediate. Get you gone. Put on a most importunate aspect, A visage of demand, for I do fear When every feather sticks in his own wing Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
CAPHIS	I go, sir.
(didascalia)	SENATOR giving him bonds
CAPHIS	Take the bonds along with you, And have the dates in count.
CAPHIS	I will, sir.
SENATOR	Go.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, with many bills in his hand
FLAVIUS	No care, no stop; so senseless of expense That he will neither know how to maintain it Nor cease his flow of riot, takes no account How things go from him, nor resumes no care Of what is to continue. Never mind Was to be so unwise to be so kind. What shall be done? He will not hear till feel.
(didascalia)	A sound of horns within
FLAVIUS	I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. Fie, fie, fie, fie!
(didascalia)	Enter Caphis at one door and Servants of Isidore and Varro at another door
CAPHIS	Good even, Varro. What, you come for money?
VARRO’S SERVANT	Is’t not your business too?
CAPHIS	It is; and yours too, Isidore?
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	It is SO.
CAPHIS	Would we were all discharged.
VARRO’S SERVANT	I fear it.
CAPHIS	Here comes the lord.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon and his train, amongst them Alcibiades, as from hunting
TIMON	So soon as dinner’s done we’ll forth again, My Alcibiades. Caphis meets Timon With me? What is your will?
CAPHIS	My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
TIMON	Dues? Whence are you?
CAPHIS	Of Athens here, my lord.
TIMON	Go to my steward.
CAPHIS	Please it your lordship, he hath put me off, To the succession of new days, this month. My master is awaked by great occasion To call upon his own, and humbly prays you That with your other noble parts you’ll suit In giving him his right.
TIMON	Mine honest friend, I prithee but repair to me next morning.
CAPHIS	Nay, good my lord.
TIMON	Contain thyself, good friend.
VARRO’S SERVANT	One Varro’s servant, my good lord.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Timon) From Isidore. He humbly prays your speedy payment.
CAPHIS	(to Timon) If you did know, my lord, my master’s wants—
VARRO’S SERVANT	(to Timon) ’Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Timon) Your steward puts me off, my lord, and I Am sent expressly to your lordship.
TIMON	Give me breath.— I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on. I’ll wait upon you instantly.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Alcibiades and Timon’s train
TIMON	(To Flavius) Come hither. Pray you, How goes the world, that I am thus encountered With clamorous demands of broken bonds And the detention of long-since-due debts, Against my honour?
FLAVIUS	(to Servants) Please you, gentlemen, The time is unagreeable to this business; Your importunacy cease till after dinner, That I may make his lordship understand Wherefore you are not paid.
TIMON	(to Servants) Do so, my friends. (To Flavius) See them well entertained. Exit
FLAVIUS	Pray draw near.
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus and Fool
CAPHIS	Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus. Let’s ha’ some sport with ’em.
VARRO’S SERVANT	Hang him, he’ll abuse us.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	A plague upon him, dog!
VARRO’S SERVANT	How dost, fool?
APEMANTUS	Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
VARRO’S SERVANT	I speak not to thee.
APEMANTUS	No, ’tis to thyself, (To Fool) Come away.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT	(to Varro’s Servant) There’s the fool hangs on your back already. APEMANTUs No, thou stand‘st single: thou’rt not on him yet.
CAPHIS	(to Isidore’s Servant) Where’s the fool now?
APEMANTUS	He last asked the question. Poor rogues’ and usurers’ men, bawds between gold and want.
ALL SERVANTS	What are we, Apemantus? 6
APEMANTUS	Asses.
ALL SERVANTS	Why?
APEMANTUS	That you ask me what you are, and do not know yourselves. Speak to ’em, fool.
FOOL	How do you, gentlemen?
ALL SERVANTS	Gramercies, good fool. How does your mistress?
FOOL	She’s e’en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth.
APEMANTUS	Good; gramercy.
(didascalia)	Enter Page with two letters
FOOL	Look you, here comes my mistress’ page.
PAGE	Why, how now, captain? What do you in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably.
PAGE	Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these letters. I know not which is which.
APEMANTUS	Canst not read?
PAGE	No.
APEMANTUS	There will little learning die then that day thou art hanged. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go, thou wast born a bastard, and thou’lt die a bawd.
PAGE	Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a dog’s death. Answer not; I am gone. Exit
APEMANTUS	E‘en so thou outrunn’st grace. Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon’s.
FOOL	Will you leave me there?
APEMANTUS	If Timon stay at home. (To Servants) You three serve three usurers?
ALL SERVANTS	Ay. Would they served us.
APEMANTUS	So would I: as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.
FOOL	Are you three usurers’ men?
ALL SERVANTS	Ay, fool. 95
FOOL	I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant. My mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your masters they approach sadly and go away merry, but they enter my mistress’s house merrily and go away sadly. The reason of this?
VARRO’S SERVANT	I could render one.
APEMANTUS	Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a knave, which notwithstanding thou shalt be no less esteemed.
VARRO’S SERVANT	What is a whoremaster, fool?
FOOL	A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. ’Tis a spirit; sometime ’t appears like a lord, sometime like a lawyer, sometime like a philosopher with two stones more than’s artificial one. He is very often like a knight; and generally in all shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in.
VARRO’S SERVANT	Thou art not altogether a fool.
FOOL	Nor thou altogether a wise man. As much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lack ’st.
APEMANTUS	That answer might have become Apemantus. Enter Timon and Flavius
ALL SERVANTS	Aside, aside, here comes Lord Timon.
APEMANTUS	Come with me, fool, come.
FOOL	I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman: sometime the philosopher.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Apemantus and Fool
FLAVIUS	(to Servants) Pray you, walk near. I’ll speak with you anon.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Servants
TIMON	You make me marvel wherefore ere this time Had you not fully laid my state before me, That I might so have rated my expense As I had leave of means.
FLAVIUS	You would not hear me. At many leisures I proposed—
TIMON	Go to. Perchance some single vantages you took, When my indisposition put you back, And that unaptness made your minister Thus to excuse yourself.
FLAVIUS	O my good lord, At many times I brought in my accounts, Laid them before you; you would throw them off And say you summed them in mine honesty. When for some trifling present you have bid me Return so much, I have shook my head and wept, Yea, ‘gainst th’authority of manners prayed you To hold your hand more close. I did endure Not seldom nor no slight checks when I have Prompted you in the ebb of your estate And your great flow of debts. My lovèd lord— Though you hear now too late, yet now’s a time— The greatest of your having lacks a half To pay your present debts.
TIMON	Let all my land be sold.
FLAVIUS	‘Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone, And what remains will hardly stop the mouth Of present dues. The future comes apace. What shall defend the interim, and at length How goes our reck’ning?
TIMON	To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
FLAVIUS	O my good lord, the world is but a word. Were it all yours to give it in a breath, How quickly were it gone.
TIMON	You tell me true.
FLAVIUS	If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, Call me before th’exactest auditors And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, When all our offices have been oppressed With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine, when every room Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy, I have retired me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow.
TIMON	Prithee, no more.
FLAVIUS	‘Heavens,’ have I said, ‘the bounty of this lord! How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants This night englutted! Who is not Timon’s? What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord Timon’s? Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. Feast won, fast lost; one cloud of winter show’rs, These flies are couched.’
TIMON	Come, sermon me no further. No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart. Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart. If I would broach the vessels of my love And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, Men and men’s fortunes could I frankly use As I can bid thee speak.
FLAVIUS	Assurance bless your thoughts!
TIMON	And in some sort these wants of mine are crowned That I account them blessings, for by these Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you Mistake my fortunes. I am wealthy in my friends.—
(didascalia)	Within there, Flaminius, Servilius!
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius, Servilius, and a Third Servant
ALL SERVANTS	My lord, my lord.
TIMON	I will dispatch you severally, (To Servilius) You to Lord Lucius, (To Flaminius) to Lord Lucullus you— I hunted with his honour today— (To Third Servant) You to Sempronius. Commend me to their loves, And I am proud, say, that my occasions have Found time to use ’em toward a supply of money. Let the request be fifty talents.
FLAMINIUS	As you have said, my lord. Exeunt Servants
FLAVIUS	Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Hmh!
TIMON	Go you, sir, to the senators, Of whom, even to the state’s best health, I have Deserved this hearing. Bid ‘em send o’th’ instant A thousand talents to me.
FLAVIUS	I have been bold, For that I knew it the most general way, To them, to use your signet and your name; But they do shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return.
TIMON	Is’t true? Can’t be?
FLAVIUS	They answer in a joint and corporate voice That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would, are sorry, you are honourable, But yet they could have wished—they know not— Something hath been amiss—a noble nature May catch a wrench—would all were well—’tis pity; And so, intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, With certain half-caps and cold moving nods They froze me into silence.
TIMON	You gods reward them! Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary. Their blood is caked, ‘tis cold, it seldom flows. ’Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; And nature as it grows again toward earth Is fashioned for the journey dull and heavy. Go to Ventidius. Prithee, be not sad. Thou art true and honest—ingenuously I speak— No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately Buried his father, by whose death he’s stepped Into a great estate. When he was poor, Imprisoned, and in scarcity of friends, I cleared him with five talents. Greet him from me. Bid him suppose some good necessity Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered With those five talents. That had, give’t these fellows To whom ‘tis instant due. Ne’er speak or think That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.
FLAVIUS	I would I could not think it. That thought is bounty’s foe: Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius, with a box under his cloak, waiting to speak with Lucullus. From his master, enters a Servant to him
LUCULLUS’ SERVANT	I have told my lord of you. He is coming down to you.
FLAMINIUS	I thank you, sir.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucullus
LUCULLUS’ SERVANT	Here’s my lord.
LUCULLUS	(aside) One of Lord Timon’s men? A gift, I warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver basin and ewer tonight.—Ftaminius, honest Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome, sir. (To his Servant) Fill me some wine. Exit Servant And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord and master?
FLAMINIUS	His health is well, sir.
LUCULLUS	I am right glad that his health is well, sir. And what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
FLAMINIUS	Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which in my lord’s behalf I come to entreat your honour to supply, who, having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to furnish him, nothing doubting your present assistance therein.
LUCULLUS	La, la, la, la, ‘nothing doubting’ says he? Alas, good lord! A noble gentleman ’tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha’ dined with him and told him on‘t, and come again to supper to him of purpose to have him spend less; and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha’ told him on’t, but I could ne’er get him from’t.
(didascalia)	Enter Servant, with wine
SERVANT	Please your lordship, here is the wine.
LUCULLUS	Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. (Drinking) Here’s to thee!
FLAMINIUS	Your lordship speaks your pleasure.
LUCULLUS	I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit, give thee thy due, and one that knows what belongs to reason; and canst use the time well if the time use thee well. (Drinking) Good parts in thee! (To his Servant) Get you gone, sirrah. Exit Servant Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord’s a bountiful gentleman; but thou art wise, and thou know‘st well enough, although thou com’st to me, that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without security. (Giving coins) Here’s three solidares for thee. Good boy, wink at me, and say thou saw’st me not. Fare thee well.
FLAMINIUS	Is’t possible the world should so much differ, And we alive that lived? He throws the coins at Lucullus Fly, damned baseness, To him that worships thee.
LUCULLUS	Ha! Now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.
(didascalia)	Exit
FLAMINIUS	May these add to the number that may scald thee. Let molten coin be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himself. Has friendship such a faint and milky heart It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, I feel my master’s passion! This slave Unto this hour has my lord’s meat in him. Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, When he is turned to poison? O, may diseases only work upon’t; And when he’s sick to death, let not that part of nature Which my lord paid for be of any power To expel sickness, but prolong his hour.
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius, with three Strangers
LUCIUS	Who, the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman.
FIRST STRANGER	We know him for no less, though we are but strangers to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon’s happy hours are done and past, and his estate shrinks from him.
LUCIUS	Fie, no, do not believe it. He cannot want for money. 9
SECOND STRANGER	But believe you this, my lord, that not long ago one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow so many talents—nay, urged extremely for‘t, and showed what necessity belonged to’t, and yet was denied.
LUCIUS	How?
SECOND STRANGER	I tell you, denied, my lord.
LUCIUS	What a strange case was that! Now before the gods, I am ashamed on’t. Denied that honourable man? There was very little honour showed in’t. For my own part, I must needs confess I have received some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels, and suchlike trifles—nothing comparing to his; yet had he not mistook him and sent to me, I should ne’er have denied his occasion so many talents.
(didascalia)	Enter Servilius
SERVILIUS	(aside) See, by good hap yonder’s my lord. I have sweat to see his honour. (To Lucius) My honoured lord!
(didascalia)	LUCIUS Servilius! You are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well. Commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend.
SERVILIUS	May it please your honour, my lord hath sent—
LUCIUS	Ha! What has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord, he’s ever sending. How shall I thank him, think’st thou? And what has he sent now?
SERVILIUS	He’s only sent his present occasion now, my lord, requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents.
(didascalia)	LUCIUS
SERVILIUS	I know his lordship is but merry with me. He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.
SERVILIUS	But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. If his occasion were not virtuous I should not urge it half so faithfully.
LUCIUS	Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
SERVILIUS	Upon my soul, ’tis true, sir.
LUCIUS	What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself against such a good time when I might ha’ shown myself honourable) How unluckily it happened that I should purchase the day before a little part, and undo a great deal of honour! Servilius, now before the gods I am not able to do, the more beast I, I say. I was sending to use Lord Timon myself—these gentlemen can witness—but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done’t now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me because I have no power to be kind. And tell him this from me: I count it one of my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far as to use mine own words to him?
SERVILIUS	Yes, sir, I shall.
LUCIUS	I’ll look you out a good turn, Servilius. Exit Servilius True as you said: Timon is shrunk indeed; And he that’s once denied will hardly speed. Exit
FIRST STRANGER	Do you observe this, Hostilius?
SECOND STRANGER	Ay, too well.
FIRST STRANGER	Why, this is the world’s soul, and just of the same piece Is every flatterer’s spirit. Who can call him his friend That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing, Timon has been this lord’s father And kept his credit with his purse, Supported his estate; nay, Timon’s money Has paid his men their wages. He ne’er drinks, But Timon’s silver treads upon his lip; And yet—O see the monstrousness of man When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!— He does deny him, in respect of his, What charitable men afford to beggars.
THIRD STRANGER	Religion groans at it.
FIRST STRANGER	For mine own part, I never tasted Timon in my life, Nor came any of his bounties over me To mark me for his friend; yet I protest, For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue, And honourable carriage, Had his necessity made use of me I would have put my wealth into donation And the best half should have returned to him, So much I love his heart. But I perceive Men must learn now with pity to dispense, For policy sits above conscience.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon’s Third Servant, with Sempronius, another of Timon’s friends
SEMPRONIUS	Must he needs trouble me in’t? Hmh! ’Bove all others? He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; And now Ventidius is wealthy too, Whom he redeemed from prison. All these Owes their estates unto him.
SERVANT	My lord, They have all been touched and found base metal, For they have all denied him.
SEMPRONIUS	How, have they denied him? Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him, And does he send to me? Three? Hmhl It shows but little love or judgement in him. Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, Thrive, give him over; must I take th’ cure upon me? He’s much disgraced me in’t. I’m angry at him, That might have known my place. I see no sense for’t But his occasions might have wooed me first, For, in my conscience, I was the first man That e‘er received gift from him. And does he think so backwardly of me now That I’ll requite it last? No. So it may prove an argument of laughter To th’ rest, and I ’mongst lords be thought a fool. I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum He’d sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake. I’d such a courage to do him good. But now return, And with their faint reply this answer join: Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.
(didascalia)	Exit
SERVANT	Excellent. Your lordship’s a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic—he crossed himself by’t, and I cannot think but in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms on fire; of such a nature is his politic love. This was my lord’s best hope. Now all are fled Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead. Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year must be employed Now to guard sure their master; And this is all a liberal course allows: Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Varro’s two Servants, meeting others, all Servants of Timon’s creditors, to wait for his coming out. Then enter Servants of Lucius, Titus, and Hortensius
(didascalia)	VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT
(didascalia)	Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.
TITUS’ SERVANT	The like to you, kind Varro.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Lucius, what, do we meet together?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ay, and I think one business does command us all, For mine is money.
TITUS’ SERVANT	So is theirs and ours.
(didascalia)	Enter a Servant of Philotus
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	And Sir Philotus too!
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Good day at once.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Welcome, good brother. What do you think the hour?
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Labouring for nine.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	So much?
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	Is not my lord seen yet?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Not yet.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	I wonder on’t; he was wont to shine at seven.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	I am of your fear for that.
TITUS’ SERVANT	I’ll show you how t’observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money?
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Most true, he does.
TITUS’ SERVANT	And he wears jewels now of Timon’s gift, For which I wait for money.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	It is against my heart.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	I’m 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.
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	Yes; mine’s three thousand crowns. What’s yours?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Five thousand, mine.
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	’is much deep, and it should seem by th’ sum Your master’s confidence was above mine, Else surely his had equalled.
(didascalia)	Enter Flaminius
TITUS’ SERVANT	One of Lord Timon’s men.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Flaminius! Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord 36 Ready to come forth?
FLAMINIUS	No, indeed he is not.
TITUS’ SERVANT	We attend his lordship. Pray signify so much.
FLAMINIUS	I need not tell Him that; he knows you are too diligent.
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, muffled in a cloak
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ha, is not that his steward muffled so? He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him.
TITUS’ SERVANT	(to Flavius) Do you hear, sir?
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	(to Flavius) By your leave, sir.
FLAVIUS	What do ye ask of me, my friend?
TITUS’ SERVANT	We wait for certain money here, sir.
FLAVIUS	Ay, If money were as certain as your waiting, ‘Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and bills When your false masters ate of my lord’s meat? Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts, And take down th’int’est into their glutt’nous maws. You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up. Let me pass quietly. Believe’, my lord and I have made an end. I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Ay, but this answer will not serve.
FLAVIUS	If ‘twill not serve ’tis not so base as you, For you serve knaves.
(didascalia)	Exit
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	How? What does his cashiered worship mutter?
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	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.
(didascalia)	Enter Servilius
TITUS’ SERVANT	O, here’s Servilius. Now we shall know some answer.
SERVILIUS	If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from’t; for, take’t of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him. He’s much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	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.
SERVILIUS	Good gods!
TITUS’ SERVANT	We cannot take this for an answer, sir.
FLAMINIUS	(Within) Servilius, helpl My lord, my lord!
(didascalia)	Enter Timon in a rage
TIMON	What, are my doors opposed against my passage? Have I been ever free, and must my house Be my retentive enemy, my jail? The place which I have feasted, does it now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Put in now, Titus.
TITUS’ SERVANT	My lord, here is my bill.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Here’s mine.
(didascalia)	HORTENSUS’ SERVANT And mine, my lord.
(didascalia)	VARRO’S FIRST and SECOND SERVANTS And ours, my lord.
PHILOTUS’ SERVANT	All our bills.
TIMON	Knock me down with ’em, cleave me to the girdle.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Alas, my lord.
TIMON	Cut my heart in sums. 90
TITUS’ SERVANT	Mine fifty talents.
TIMON	Tell out my blood.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT	Five thousand crowns, my lord.
TIMON	Five thousand drops pays that. What yours? And yours?
VARRO’S FIRST SERVANT	My lord—
VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT	My lord—
TIMON	Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you.
(didascalia)	Exit
HORTENSIUS’ SERVANT	Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money. These debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon and Flavius
TIMON	They have e’en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors? Devils!
FLAVIUS	My dear lord—
TIMON	What if it should be so?
FLAVIUS	My lord—
TIMON	I’ll have it so. My steward!
FLAVIUS	Here, my lord.
TIMON	So fitly? Go bid all my friends again: Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius—all luxors, all. I’ll once more feast the rascals.
FLAVIUS	O my lord, You only speak from your distracted soul. There is not so much left to furnish out A moderate table.
TIMON	Be it not in thy care. Go, I charge thee, invite them all. Let in the tide Of knaves once more. My cook and I’ll provide.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter three Senators at one door
FIRST SENATOR	My lords, you have my voice to’t. The fault’s bloody. ’Tis necessary he should die. Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
SECOND SENATOR	Most true; the law shall bruise ’im.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades at another door, with attendants
ALCIBIADES	Honour, health, and compassion to the senate!
FIRST SENATOR	Now, captain.
ALCIBIADES	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 stepped into the law, which is past depth To those that without heed do plunge into’t. He is a man, setting his feat 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 touched to death, He did oppose his foe; And with such sober and unnoted passion He did behave his anger, ere ’twas spent, As if he had but proved an argument.
FIRST SENATOR	You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. Your words have took such pains as if they laboured To bring manslaughter into form, and 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 To 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!
ALCIBIADES	My lord—
FIRST SENATOR	You cannot make gross sins look clear. To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
ALCIBIADES	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 threats, sleep upon‘t, And let the foes quietly cut their throats Without repugnancy? If there be Such valour in the bearing, what make we Abroad? Why then, women are more valiant That stay at home if bearing carry it, And the 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.
SECOND SENATOR	You breathe in vain.
ALCIBIADES	In vain? His service done at Lacedaemon and Byzantium Were a sufficient briber for his life.
FIRST SENATOR	What’s that?
ALCIBIADES	Why, I say, my lords, he’s done fair service, And slain in fight many of your enemies. How full of valour did he bear himself In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
SECOND SENATOR	He has made too much plenty with ‘em. He’s a sworn rioter; he has a sin That often drowns him and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no foes, that were enough To overcome him. In that beastly fury He has been known to commit outrages And cherish factions. ’Tis inferred to us His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
FIRST SENATOR	He dies.
ALCIBIADES	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 ’em 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.
FIRST SENATOR	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.
ALCIBIADES	Must it be so? It must not be. My lords, I do beseech you know me.
SECOND SENATOR	How?
ALCIBIADES	Call me to your remembrances.
THIRD SENATOR	What?
ALCIBIADES	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.
FIRST SENATOR	Do you dare our anger? ’Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for ever.
ALCIBIADES	Banish me? Banish your dotage, banish usury That makes the senate ugly.
FIRST SENATOR	If after two days’ shine Athens contain thee, attend our weightier judgement; And, not to swell your spirit, he shall be Executed presently.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Senators and attendants
ALCIBIADES	Now the gods keep you old enough that you may live Only in bone, that none may look on you! I’m 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? Banishment! It comes not ill; I hate not to be banished. 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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter divers of Timon’s friends, amongst them Lucullus, Lucius, Sempronius, and other Lords and Senators, at several doors
FIRST LORD	The good time of day to you, sir.
SECOND LORD	I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord did but try us this other day.
FIRST LORD	Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.
SECOND LORD	It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.
FIRST LORD	I should think so. He hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me to put off, but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear.
SECOND LORD	In like manner was I in debt to my importunate business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry when he sent to borrow of me that my provision was out.
FIRST LORD	I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go.
SECOND LORD	Every man hears so. What would he have borrowed of you?
FIRST LORD	A thousand pieces.
SECOND LORD	A thousand pieces?
FIRST LORD	What of you?
SECOND LORD	He sent to me, sir—
(didascalia)	Loud music. Enter Timon and attendants
SECOND LORD	Here he comes.
TIMON	With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?
FIRST LORD	Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.
SECOND LORD	The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship.
TIMON	(aside) Nor more willingly leaves winter, such summer birds are men.—Genttemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay. Feast your ears with the music a while, if they will fare so harshly o’th’ trumpets’ sound; we shall to’t presently.
FIRST LORD	I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship that I returned you an empty messenger.
TIMON	O sir, let it not trouble you.
SECOND LORD	My noble lord—
TIMON	Ah, my good friend, what cheer?
(didascalia)	A table and stools are brought in
SECOND 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.
TIMON	Think not on’t, sir.
SECOND LORD	If you had sent but two hours before—
TIMON	Let it not cumber your better remembrance.—Come, bring in all together.
(didascalia)	Enter Servants with covered dishes
SECOND LORD	All covered dishes.
FIRST LORD	Royal cheer, I warrant you.
THIRD LORD	Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it.
FIRST LORD	How do you? What’s the news?
THIRD LORD	Alcibiades is banished. Hear you of it?
FIRST	and SECOND LORDS Alcibiades banished?
THIRD LORD	’Tis so, be sure of it.
FIRST LORD	How, how?
SECOND LORD	I pray you, upon what?
TIMON	My worthy friends, will you draw near?
THIRD LORD	I’ll tell you more anon. Here’s a noble feast toward.
SECOND LORD	This is the old man still.
THIRD LORD	Will’t hold, will’t hold?
SECOND LORD	It does; but time will—and so—
THIRD LORD	I do conceive. 64
TIMON	Each man to his stool with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. They sit You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves praised; but reserve still to give, lest your deities be despised. Lend to each man enough that one need not lend to another; for were your godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a dozen of them be as they are. The rest of your foes, O gods—the senators of Athens, together with the common tag of people—what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them; and to nothing are they welcome.—Uncover, dogs, and lap.
(didascalia)	The dishes are uncovered, and seen to be full of steaming water and stones
SOME LORDS	What does his lordship mean?
OTHER LORDS	I know not.
TIMON	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 with your flattery, Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villainy.
(didascalia)	He throws water in their faces
TIMON	Live loathed 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.
(didascalia)	A Lord is going
TIMON	What, dost thou go? Soft, take thy physic first. Thou too, and thou.
(didascalia)	He beats them
TIMON	Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lords, leaving caps and gowns
TIMON	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!
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter the Senators and other Lords
FIRST LORD	How now, my lords?
SECOND LORD	Know you the quality of Lord Timon’s fury?
THIRD LORD	Push! Did you see my cap?
FOURTH LORD	I have lost my gown.
FIRST LORD	He’s but a mad lord, and naught but humours sways him. He gave me a jewel th’other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you see my jewel?
(didascalia)	THIRD LORD Did you see my cap?
(didascalia)	SECOND LORD
FIRST LORD	Here ’tis.
FOURTH LORD	Here lies my gown.
FIRST LORD	Let’s make no stay.
SECOND LORD	Lord Timon’s mad.
THIRD LORD	I feel’t upon my bones.
FOURTH LORD	One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon
TIMON	Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall That girdles 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‘th’ 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’th’ brothel. Son of sixteen, Pluck the lined crutch from thy 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, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let 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 th’Athenian bosoms, and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, That their society, as their friendship, may Be merely poison!
(didascalia)	He tears off his clothes
TIMON	Nothing I’ll bear from thee But nakedness, thou detestable town; Take thou that too, with multiplying bans. Timon will to the woods, where he shall find Th‘unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confound—hear me you good gods all— Th’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.
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius, with two or three Servants
FIRST SERVANT	Hear you, master steward, where’s our master? Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?
FLAVIUS	Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded: by the righteous gods, I am as poor as you.
FIRST SERVANT	Such a house broke, So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm And go along with him?
SECOND SERVANT	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 picked; and his poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all-shunned poverty, Walks like contempt alone.
(didascalia)	Enter other Servants
SECOND SERVANT	More of our fellows.
FLAVIUS	All broken implements of a ruined house.
THIRD SERVANT	Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery. That see I by our faces. We are fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our barque, And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck Hearing the surges’ threat. We must all part Into this sea of air.
FLAVIUS	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.’ He gives them money Let each take some. Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more. Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. They embrace, and the Servants part several ways 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 would be so mocked 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 varnished 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, blessed to be most accursed, Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seat Of monstrous friends; Nor has he with him to supply his life, Or that which can command it. I’ll follow and enquire him out. I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will. Whilst I have gold I’ll be his steward still.
(didascalia)	Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Timon from his cave in the woods, half naked, and with a spade
TIMON	O blessèd breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity; below thy sister’s orb Infect the air. Twinned brothers of one womb, Whose procreation, residence, and birth Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes, The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune But by contempt of nature. It is the pasture lards the brother’s sides, The want that makes him lean. Raise me this beggar and demit that lord, The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar native honour. 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 grece of fortune Is smoothed by that below. The learnèd pate Ducks to the golden fool. All’s obliquy; There’s nothing level in our cursed natures But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred All feasts, societies, and throngs of men. His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains. Destruction fang mankind. Earth, yield me roots. He digs Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate With thy most operant poison. He finds gold 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 th’accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation With senators on the bench. This is it That makes the wappered widow wed again. She whom the spittle house and ulcerous sores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To th’ April day again. Come, damned earth, Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds Among the rout of nations; I will make thee Do thy right nature. March afar off Ha, a drum! Thou’rt quick; But yet I’ll bury thee. He buries gold Thou’lt go, strong thief, When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. He keeps some gold Nay, stay thou out for earnest.
(didascalia)	Enter Alcibiades, with soldiers playing drum and
TIMON	fife, in warlike manner; and Phrynia and Timandra
ALCIBIADES	What art thou there? Speak.
TIMON	A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart 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, That I might love thee something.
ALCIBIADES	I know thee well, But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.
TIMON	I know thee too, and more than that I know thee I not desire to know. Follow thy drum. 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 cherubin look.
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. 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 maintain my opinion.
ALCIBIADES	What is it, Timon?
TIMON	Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man. If thou dost not perform, confound thee, for 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 blessèd time.
TIMON	As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
TIMANDRA	Is this th’Athenian minion, whom the world Voiced so regardfully?
SIMON	Art thou Timandra?
TIMANDRA	Yes.
TIMON	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.
TIMANDRA	Hang thee, monster!
ALCIBIADES	Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits Are drowned 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 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.
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.
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 conquered.
ALCIBIADES	Why me, Timon?
TIMON	That by killing of villains Thou wast born to conquer my country. Put up thy gold. He gives Alcibiades gold Go on; here’s gold; go on. Be as a planetary plague when Jove Will o’er some high-viced city hang his poison In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one. Pity not honoured 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 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 pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse. Swear against objects. 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.
ALCIBIADES	Hast thou gold yet? I’ll take the gold thou giv’st me, Not all thy counsel.
TIMON	Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven’s curse upon thee!
PHRYNIA	and TIMANDRA Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more?
TIMON	Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, And to make wholesomeness a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, Your aprons mountant.
(didascalia)	He throws gold into their aprons
TIMON	You are not oathable, Although I know you’ll swear, terribly swear, Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues Th’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 pain-sick months Be quite contrary, and thatch your poor thin roofs With burdens of the dead—some that were hanged, No matter. Wear them, betray with them; whore still; Paint till a horse may mire upon your face. A pox of wrinkles!
PHRYNIA	and TIMANDRA Well, more gold; what then? Believe’t that we’ll do anything for gold.
TIMON	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 weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald, And let the unscarred 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; And ditches grave you all!
PHRYNIA	and 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.
TIMON	If I hope well, I’ll never see thee more.
ALCIBIADES	I never did thee harm.
TIMON	Yes, thou spok’st well of me.
ALCIBIADES	Call’st thou that harm?
TIMON	Men daily find it. Get thee away, And take thy beagles with thee.
ALCIBIADES	We but offend him. Strike!
(didascalia)	Exeunt to drum and fife all but Timon
TIMON	That nature, being sick of man’s unkindness, Should yet be hungry! He digs the earth Common mother—thou Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast Teems and feeds all, whose selfsame mettle Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed Engenders the black toad and adder blue, The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm, With all th‘abhorrèd births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperion’s quick’ning fire doth shine— Yield him who all thy human sons do hate From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root. Ensear thy fertile and conceptions 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. He finds a root O, 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!—
(didascalia)	Enter Apemantus
TIMON	More man? Plague, plague!
APEMANTUS	I was directed hither. Men report 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 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 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 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.
TIMON	Were I like thee, I’d 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 mossed trees That have outlived 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’ernight’s surfeit? Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhousèd trunks To the conflicting elements exposed Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee. O, thou shalt find—
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.
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?
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 enforcèdly. Thou’dst courtier be again Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned 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.
TIMON	Not by his breath that is more miserable. Thou art a slave whom fortune’s tender arm With favour never clasped, but bred a dog. Hadst thou like us from our first swathe proceeded The sweet degrees that this brief world affords To such as may the passive drudges of it Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself In general riot, melted down thy youth In different beds of lust, and never learned The icy precepts of respect, but followed The sugared 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 flattered 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.
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. 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. He bites the root
(didascalia)	APEMANTUS offering food Here, I will mend thy feast.
TIMON	First mend my company: take away thyself.
APEMANTUS	So I shall mend mine own by th’ lack of thine.
TIMON	’Tis not well mended so, it is but botched; If not, I would it were.
APEMANTUS	What wouldst thou have to Athens?
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.
APEMANTUS	Where liest a-nights, Timon?
TIMON	Under that’s above me. Where feed’st thou a-days, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS	Where my stomach finds meat; or rather, where I eat it.
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 and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou know’st none, but art despised for the contrary. There’s a medlar for thee; eat it.
TIMON	On what I hate I feed not.
APEMANTUS	Dost hate a medlar?
TIMON	Ay, though it look like thee.
APEMANTUS	An thou’dst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?
TIMON	Who, without those means thou talk’st of, didst thou ever know beloved?
APEMANTUS	Myself.
TIMON	I understand thee: thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
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?
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‘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 dullness would torment thee, and still thou lived’st 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 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!
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 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. 356
TIMON	When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar’s dog than Apemantus.
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.
TIMON	If I name thee. I’d 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. I swoon to see thee.
APEMANTUS	Would thou wouldst burst!
TIMON	Away, thou tedious rogue!
(didascalia)	He throws a stone at Apemantus
TIMON	I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.
APEMANTUS	Beast!
TIMON	Slave!
APEMANTUS	Toad!
TIMON	Rogue, rogue, rogue! I am sick of this false world, and will love naught But even the mere necessities upon’t. Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave. Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat Thy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph, That death in me at others’ lives may laugh. He looks on 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 That lies on Dian’s lap; thou visible god, That sold’rest 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.
APEMANTUS	Would ’twere so, But not till I am dead. I’ll say thou’st gold. Thou wilt be thronged to shortly.
TIMON	Thronged to?
APEMANTUS	Ay.
TIMON	Thy back, I prithee.
APEMANTUS	Live, and love thy misery.
TIMON	Long live so, and so die. I am quit.
(didascalia)	Enter the Banditti, thieves
APEMANTUS	More things like men. Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
(didascalia)	Exit
FIRST THIEF	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.
SECOND THIEF	It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.
THIRD 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?
SECOND THIEF	True, for he bears it not about him; ’tis hid.
FIRST THIEF	Is not this he?
OTHER THIEVES	Where?
SECOND THIEF	’Tis his description.
THIRD THIEF	He, I know him.
ALL THIEVES	(coming forward) Save thee, Timon.
TIMON	Now, thieves.
ALL THIEVES	Soldiers, not thieves.
TIMON	Both, too, and women’s sons.
ALL THIEVES	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.
(didascalia)	Within this mile break forth a hundred springs.
TIMON	The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips. The bounteous housewife nature on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? Why want?
FIRST THIEF	We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes.
TIMON	Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con That you are thieves professed, that you work not In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft In limited professions. (Giving gold) Rascal thieves, Here’s gold. Go suck the subtle blood o‘th’ grape Till the high fever seethe 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 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 gen‘ral excrement. Each thing’s a thief. The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Has unchecked 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 no less for this I give you, And gold confound you howsoe’er. Amen.
THIRD THIEF	He’s almost charmed me from my profession by persuading me to it.
FIRST THIEF	’Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery.
SECOND THIEF	I’ll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.
FIRST THIEF	Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so miserable but a man may be true.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Thieves
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius to Timon
FLAVIUS	O you gods! Is yon despised and ruinous man my lord, Full of decay and failing? O monument And wonder of good deeds evilly bestowed! What an alteration of honour has desp’rate 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 wished to love his enemies! Grant I may ever love and rather woo Those that would mischief me than those that do! Timon sees him He’s 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	Away! What art thou?
FLAVIUS	Have you forgot me, sir?
TIMON	Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; Then if thou grant‘st thou’rt 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; ay, all I kept were knaves, To serve in meat to villains.
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 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, T’accept my grief,
(didascalia)	He offers his money
FLAVIUS	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. 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, 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, 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, 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. You should have feared 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 honoured lord, For any benefit that points to me, Either in hope or present, I’d exchange For this one wish: that you had power and wealth To requite me by making rich yourself.
TIMON	Look thee, ’tis so. Thou singly honest man,
(didascalia)	He gives Flavius gold
TIMON	Here, take. The gods, out of my misery, Has sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy, But thus conditioned: thou shalt build from men, Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, But let the famished flesh slide from the bone Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs What thou deniest to men. Let prisons swallow ‘em, Debts wither ’em to nothing; be men like blasted woods, 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 hat’st curses, Stay not. Fly whilst thou art blest and free. Ne’er see thou man, and let me ne’er see thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Timon into his cave, Flavius another way

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Poet and Painter
PAINTER	As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides.
POET	What’s to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true that he’s so full of gold?
PAINTER	Certain. Alcibiades reports it. Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him. He likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. ’Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.
POET	Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends?
PAINTER	Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore ’tis 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 travail for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having.
POET	What have you now to present unto him?
PAINTER	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.
PAINTER	Good as the best.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon from his cave, unobserved
PAINTER	Promising is the very air o’th’ 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 judgement that makes it.
TIMON	(aside) Excellent workman, thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself.
POET	(to Painter) 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.
TIMON	(aside) 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	(to Painter) Nay, let’s seek him. Then do we sin against our own estate When we may profit meet and come too late.
PAINTER	True. When the day serves, before black-cornered night, Find what thou want’st by free and offered fight. Come.
TIMON	(aside) I’ll meet you at the turn. What a god’s gold, That he is worshipped in a baser temple Than where swine feed! ‘Tis thou that rigg’st the barque and plough’st the foam, Settlest admired reverence in a slave. To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey. Fit I meet them. He comes forward to them
POET	Hail, worthy Timon!
PAINTER	Our late noble master!
TIMON	Have I once lived to see two honest men?
POET	Sir, having often of your open bounty tasted, Hearing you were retired, your friends fall’n off, Whose thankless natures, O abhorred spirits, Not all the whips of heaven are large enough— What, to you, Whose star-like nobleness gave life and infiuence To their whole being! I am rapt, and cannot cover The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude With any size of words.
TIMON	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.
PAINTER	He and myself Have travelled in the great show’r of your gifts, And sweetly felt it.
TIMON	Ay, you are honest men.
PAINTER	We are hither come to offer you our service.
TIMON	Most honest men. Why, how shall I requite you? Can you eat roots and drink cold water? No.
POET	and PAINTER What we can do we’ll do to do you service.
TIMON	You’re honest men. You’ve heard that I have gold, I am sure you have. Speak truth; you’re honest men.
PAINTER	So it is said, my noble lord, but therefor Came not my friend nor I.
TIMON	Good honest men. (To Painter) Thou draw‘st a counterfeit Best in all Athens; thou’rt indeed the best; Thou counterfeit’st most lively.
PAINTER	So so, my lord.
TIMON	E‘en so, sir, as I say. (To Poet) And for thy fiction, Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth That thou art even natural in thine art. But for all this, my honest-natured friends, I must needs say you have a little fault. Marry, ’tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I You take much pains to mend.
POET	and PAINTER Beseech your honour To make it known to us.
TIMON	You’ll take it ill.
POET	and PAINTER Most thankfully, my lord.
TIMON	Will you indeed?
POET	and PAINTER Doubt it not, worthy lord.
TIMON	There’s never a one of you but trusts a knave That mightily deceives you.
POET	and PAINTER Do we, my lord?
TIMON	Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, Keep in your bosom; yet remain assured That he’s a made-up villain.
PAINTER	I know none such, my lord.
POET	Nor I.
TIMON	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.
POET	and PAINTER Name them, my lord, let’s know them.
TIMON	You that way and you this—but two in company- Each man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
(didascalia)	To Painter If where thou art two villains shall not be,
(didascalia)	Come not near him. To Poet If thou wouldst not
TIMON	reside But where one villain is, then him abandon.
(didascalia)	Hence; pack! Striking him There’s gold. You came
TIMON	for gold, ye slaves.
(didascalia)	Striking Painter You have work for me; there’s
TIMON	payment. Hence!
(didascalia)	Striking Poet You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
(didascalia)	Out, rascal dogs! Exeunt Poet and Painter one way,
(didascalia)	Timon into his cave

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Flavius and two Senators
FLAVIUS	It is in 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.
FIRST SENATOR	Bring us to his cave. It is our part and promise to th’ Athenians To speak with Timon.
SECOND SENATOR	At all times alike Men are not still the same. ’Twas time and griefs That framed 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.
FLAVIUS	Here is his cave. (Calling) Peace and content be here! Lord Timon, Timon, Look out and speak to friends. Th’Athenians By two of their most reverend senate greet thee. Speak to them, noble Timon.
(didascalia)	Enter Timon out of his cave
TIMON	Thou sun that comforts, burn! Speak and be hanged. For each true word a blister, and each false Be as a cantherizing to the root o’th’ tongue, Consuming it with speaking.
FIRST SENATOR	Worthy Timon—
TIMON	Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.
FIRST SENATOR	The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
TIMON	I thank them, and would send them back the plague Could I but catch it for them.
FIRST SENATOR	O, forget What we are sorry for, ourselves in thee. The senators with one consent of love Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought On special dignities which vacant lie For thy best use and wearing.
SECOND SENATOR	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 it own fail, 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.
TIMON	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.
FIRST SENATOR	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, Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades th’approaches wild, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up His country’s peace.
SECOND SENATOR	And shakes his threat’ning sword Against the walls of Athens.
FIRST SENATOR	Therefore, Timon—
TIMON	Well, sir, I will; therefore I will, sir, thus. If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon: That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens, And take our goodly aged men by th’ beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brained war, Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it In pity of our aged and our youth, I cannot choose but tell him that I care not; And-let him take’t at worst—for their knives care not While you have throats to answer. For myself, There’s not a whittle in th’ unruly camp But I do prize it at my love before The reverend’st throat in Athens. So I leave you To the protection of the prosperous gods, As thieves to keepers.
FLAVIUS	(to Senators) Stay not; all’s in vain.
TIMON	Why, I was writing of my epitaph. It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness Of health and living now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go; live still. Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough.
FIRST SENATOR	We speak in vain.
TIMON	But yet I love my country, and am not One that rejoices in the common wrack As common bruit doth put it.
FIRST SENATOR	That’s well spoke.
TIMON	Commend me to my loving countrymen—
FIRST SENATOR	These words become your lips as they pass through them.
SECOND SENATOR	And enter in our ears like great triumphers In their applauding gates.
TIMON	Commend me to them, And tell them that to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature’s fragile vessel doth sustain In life’s uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them. I’ll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades’ wrath.
FIRST SENATOR	(aside) I like this well; he will return again.
TIMON	I have a tree which grows here in my close That mine own use invites me to cut down, And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends, Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree From high to low throughout, that whoso please To stop affliction, let him take his haste, Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe, And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
FLAVIUS	(to Senators) Trouble him no further. Thus you still shall find him.
TIMON	Come not to me again, but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood, Who once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come, And let my gravestone be your oracle. lips, let four words go by, and language end. What is amiss, plague and infection mend. Graves only be men’s works, and death their gain. Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign.
(didascalia)	Exit into his
(didascalia)	cave
FIRST SENATOR	His discontents are unremovably Coupled to nature.
SECOND SENATOR	Our hope in him is dead. Let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril.
FIRST SENATOR	It requires swift foot.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger
(didascalia)	THIRD SENATOR
(didascalia)	Thou hast painfully discovered. Are his files As full as thy report?
MESSENGER	I have spoke the least. Besides, his expedition promises Present approach.
(didascalia)	FOURTH SENATOR
MESSENGER	We stand much hazard if they bring not Timon.
MESSENGER	I met a courier, one mine ancient friend, Whom, though in general part we were opposed, Yet our old love made a particular force And made us speak like friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timon’s cave With letters of entreaty which imported His fellowship i’th’ cause against your city, In part for his sake moved.
(didascalia)	Enter the other Senators
(didascalia)	THIRD SENATOR
MESSENGER	Here come our brothers.
(didascalia)	FIRST SENATOR
MESSENGER	No talk of Timon; nothing of him expect. The enemy’s drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare. Ours is the fall, I fear, our foe’s the snare. Exeunt

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter a Soldier, in the woods, seeking Timon
SOLDIER	By all description, this should be the place. Who’s here? Speak, ho! No answer?
(didascalia)	He discovers a gravestone
SOLDIER	What is this? Dead, sure, and this his grave. What’s on this tomb I cannot read. The character I’ll take with wax. Our captain hath in every figure skill, An aged interpreter, though young in days. Before proud Athens he’s set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. Exit

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his powers, before Athens
(didascalia)	Sound to this coward and lascivious town
ALCIBIADES	Our terrible approach. A parley sounds. The Senators appear upon the walls Till now you have gone on and filled the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice. Till now myself and such As slept within the shadow of your power Have wandered with our traversed arms, and breathed Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong, Cries of itself ‘No more’; now breathless wrong Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, And pursy insolence shall break his wind With fear and horrid flight.
FIRST SENATOR	Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, We sent to thee to give thy rages balm, To wipe out our ingratitude with loves Above their quantity.
SECOND SENATOR	So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city’s love By humble message and by promised means. We were not all unkind, nor all deserve The common stroke of war.
FIRST SENATOR	These walls of ours Were not erected by their hands from whom You have received your grief; nor are they such That these great tow’rs, trophies, and schools should fall For private faults in them.
SECOND SENATOR	Nor are they living Who were the motives that you first went out. Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess, Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, Into our city with thy banners spread. By decimation and a tithed death, If thy revenges hunger for that food Which nature loathes, take thou the destined tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted die Let die the spotted.
FIRST SENATOR	All have not offended. For those that were, it is not square to take, On those that are, revenges. Crimes like lands Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage. Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall With those that have offended. Like a shepherd Approach the fold and cull th’infected forth, But kill not all together.
SECOND SENATOR	What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile Than hew to’t with thy sword.
FIRST SENATOR	Set but thy foot Against our rampired gates and they shall ope, So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before To say thou’lt enter friendly.
SECOND SENATOR	Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour else, That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress, And not as our confusion. All thy powers Shall make their harbour in our town till we Have sealed thy full desire.
(didascalia)	ALCIBIADES throwing up a glove
SECOND SENATOR	Then there’s my glove. Descend, and open your uncharged ports. Those enemies of Timon’s and mine own Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof Fall, and no more; and to atone your fears With my more noble meaning, not a man Shall pass his quarter or offend the stream Of regular justice in your city’s bounds But shall be remedied to your public laws At heaviest answer.
BOTH SENATORS	’Tis most nobly spoken.
ALCIBIADES	Descend, and keep your words.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound. Exeunt Senators from the walls.
(didascalia)	Enter Soldier, with a tablet of wax
SOLDIER	My noble general, Timon is dead, Entombed upon the very hem o’th’ sea; And on his gravestone this insculpture, which With wax I brought away, whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance. Alcibiades reads the epitaph
ALCIBIADES	‘Here lies a wretched corpse, Of wretched soul bereft. Seek not my name. A plague consume You wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon, who alive All living men did hate. Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass And stay not here thy gait.’ These well express in thee thy latter spirits. Though thou abhorred‘st in us our human griefs, Scorned’st our brains’ flow and those our droplets which From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead Is noble Timon, of whose memory Hereafter more.
(didascalia)	Enter Senators through the gates
ALCIBIADES	Bring me into your city, And I will use the olive with my sword, Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each Prescribe to other as each other’s leech. Let our drums strike.
(didascalia)	Drums. Exeunt through
ALCIBIADES	the
(didascalia)	gates
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE	(ADAPTED BY THOMAS MIDDLETON)
SHORTLY	after James VI of Scotland succeeded to the English throne, in 1603, he gave his patronage to Shakespeare’s company; the Lord Chamberlain’s Men became the King’s Men, entering into a special relationship with their sovereign. Macbeth is the play of Shakespeare’s that most clearly reflects this relationship. James regarded the virtuous and noble Banquo, Macbeth’s comrade at the start of the action, as his direct ancestor; eight Stuart kings were said to have preceded James, just as, in the play, Banquo points to ‘a show of eight kings’ as his descendants (4.1.127.1-140); and in the play the English king (historically Edward the Confessor) is praised for the capacity, on which James also prided himself, to cure ’the king’s evil’ (scrofula). Macbeth is obviously a Jacobean play, composed probably in 1606. But the first printed text, in the 1623 Folio, shows signs of having been adapted at a later date. It is exceptionally short by comparison with Shakespeare’s other tragedies; and it includes episodes which there is good reason to believe are not by Shakespeare. Most conspicuous are Act 3, Scene 5 and parts of Act 4, Scene I: 38.I-60 and 141-8.1. These episodes feature Hecate, who does not appear elsewhere in the play; they are composed largely in octosyllabic couplets in a style conspicuously different from the rest of the play; and they call for the performance of two songs that are found in The Witch, a play of uncertain date by Thomas Middleton. Probably Middleton himself adapted Shakespeare’s play some years after its first performance, adding these and more localized details, and cutting the play elsewhere. We do not attempt to excise passages most clearly written by Middleton, because the adapter’s hand almost certainly affected the text at other, less determinable points. The Folio text of Macbeth cites only the opening words of the songs; drawing on The Witch, we attempt a reconstruction of their staging in Macbeth. Shakespeare took materials for his story from the account in Raphael Holinshed’s Chronicle of the reigns of Duncan and Macbeth (AD 1034-57). Occasionally (especially in the English episodes of Act 4, Scene 2) he closely followed Holinshed’s wording, but essentially the play’s structure is his own. He invented the framework of the three witches who tempted both Macbeth and Banquo with prophecies of greatness. His Macbeth is both more introspective and more intensely evil than the competent warrior-king portrayed by Holinshed; conversely, Shakespeare made Duncan, the king whom Macbeth murders, far more venerable and saintly. Some of the play’s features, notably the character of Lady Macbeth, originate in Holinshed’s account of the murder of an earlier Scottish king, Duff; he was killed in his castle at Forres by Donwald, who had been ‘set on’ by his wife. Macbeth is an exciting story of witchcraft, murder, and retribution that can also be seen as a study in the philosophy and psychology of evil. The witches are not easily made credible in modern performances, and Shakespeare seems deliberately to have drained colour away from some parts of his composition in order to concentrate attention on Macbeth and his Lady. It is Macbeth’s neurotic self-absorption, his fear, his anger, and his despair, along with his wife’s steely determination, her invoking of the powers of evil, and her eventual revelation in sleep of her repressed humanity, that have given the play its long-proven power to fascinate readers and to challenge performers.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY
KING DUNCAN	of Scotland A CAPTAIN in Duncan’s army MACBETH, Thane of Glamis, later Thane of Cawdor, then King of Scotland A PORTER at Macbeth’s castle Three MURDERERS attending on Macbeth SEYTON, servant of Macbeth
LADY	MACBETH, Macbeth’s wife BANQUO, a Scottish thane FLEANCE, his son MACDUFF, Thane of Fife
LADY	MACDUFF, his wife
MACDUFF’S SON	SIWARD, Earl of Northumberland
YOUNG	SIWARD, his son An English DOCTOR HECATE, Queen of the Witches Six WITCHES Three APPARITIONS, one an armed head, one a bloody child, one a child crowned A SPIRIT LIKE A CAT Other SPIRITS An OLD MAN A MESSENGER
SERVANTS	A show of eight kings; Lords and Thanes, attendants, soldiers, drummers