| [Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching
them from his cave] | |
| 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 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. Promising is the very air o' the
time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. |
| [TIMON comes from his cave, behind] | |
| TIMON | [Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a
man so bad as is thyself. |
| Poet | I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for
him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. |
| 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 | 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-corner'd night, Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. |
| TIMON | [Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a
god's gold, That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple Than where swine feed! 'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, Settlest admired reverence in a slave: To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! Fit I meet them. |
| [Coming forward] | |
| 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 influence 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 travail'd in the great shower 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. |
| Both | What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. |
| TIMON | Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold;
I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. |
| Painter | So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
Came not my friend nor I. |
| TIMON | Good honest men! 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. 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. |
| Both | Beseech your honour
To make it known to us. |
| TIMON | You'll take it ill. |
| Both | Most thankfully, my lord. |
| TIMON | Will you, indeed? |
| Both | Doubt it not, worthy lord. |
| TIMON | There's never a one of you but trusts a knave,
That mightily deceives you. |
| Both | 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. |
| Both | 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. If where thou art two villains shall not be, Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside But where one villain is, then him abandon. Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: |
| [To Painter] | |
| You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! | |
| [To Poet] | |
| You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
Out, rascal dogs! | |
| [Beats them out, and then retires to his cave] | |
| [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 the 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.
Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon. |
| [TIMON comes from his cave] | |
| TIMON | Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and
be hang'd: For each true word, a blister! and each false Be as cauterizing to the root o' the 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 its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd 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, Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up His country's peace. |
| Second Senator | And shakes his threatening 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 be sack fair Athens, And take our goodly aged men by the beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd 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 the 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 | Stay not, all's in vain. |
| TIMON | Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
it will be seen to-morrow: 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 wreck, 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
thorough 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 | 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 | 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 grave-stone be your oracle. Lips, let sour 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. |
| [Retires to his cave] | |
| First Senator | His discontents are unremoveably
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. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter two Senators and a Messenger] | |
| First Senator | Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files
As full as thy report? |
| Messenger | have spoke the least:
Besides, his expedition promises Present approach. |
| Second Senator | 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' the cause against your city, In part for his sake moved. |
| First Senator | Here come our brothers. |
| [Enter the Senators from TIMON] | |
| Third Senator | No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON] | |
| Soldier | By all description this should be the place.
Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. 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] |
| [Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers] | |
| ALCIBIADES | Sound to this coward and lascivious town
Our terrible approach. |
| [A parley sounded] | |
| [Enter Senators on the walls] | |
| Till now you have gone on and fill'd 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 wander'd 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 griefs; nor are they such That these great towers, 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 the 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 seal'd thy full desire. |
| ALCIBIADES | 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 render'd to your public laws At heaviest answer. |
| Both | 'Tis most nobly spoken. |
| ALCIBIADES | Descend, and keep your words. |
| [The Senators descend, and open the gates] | |
| [Enter Soldier] | |
| Soldier | My noble general, Timon is dead;
Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which With wax I brought away, whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance. |
| ALCIBIADES | [Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a
wretched corse, 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 abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, Scorn'dst our brain's 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. 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. |
| [Exeunt] |