In thirty-seven of Shakespeare’s thirty-eight plays, there are representations of family and sexual relationships—parents and children, siblings, lovers, married couples, usually in multiple combinations. The bonds of family and desire are the very DNA of his dramatic world. Timon of Athens is the unique exception that proves the rule. Nobody in the play has a blood relationship to anyone else. The central character has no family and no lover.
The play seems to have been written around the time when Shakespeare was creating his most demanding female roles—Lady Macbeth and Cleopatra—and yet it almost entirely banishes women. Two whores have walk-on parts in one scene, delivering forty words between them. Some Amazons dance in a masque, though they may be intended as cross-dressed men, like the masquers in Love’s Labour’s Lost and Henry VIII. There are no children either: the boy actors in Shakespeare’s company can seldom have been so underemployed.
Cupid, the mischievous god of love, presides invisibly over all Shakespeare’s comedies and several of his tragedies: Timon is the one play in which he actually puts in an appearance, speaking the prologue to the masque. But ironically, he has no part in the action. No character in the play is struck by the dart of love. Cupidity, however—the desire for money—is the heart of the matter.
“In Timon of Athens,” wrote Karl Marx of his favourite play, “Shakespeare attributes two qualities to money. It is the visible deity, the transformation of all human and natural qualities into their opposites, the universal confusion and inversion of things; it brings incompatibles into fraternity. And it is the universal whore, the universal pander between men and nations.” In simpler language: we worship money, it distorts our view of what is important in life and it turns all relationships into commercial exchanges. As Lucius’ servant puts it, “Ay, and I think one business does command us all, / For mine is money.” No other Shakespearean play gives so much attention to servants: by focusing on the master–servant relationship, as opposed to parent–child or man–woman, Shakespeare and his co-author Thomas Middleton (a master in both the comedy and the tragedy of commercial exchange) bring home the Marxist point. Money as the universal whore: that is the symbolic significance of having prostitutes as the only female roles. It is also why the play begins with a selection of unnamed characters selling their wares: jewels, silks for fine clothing, poems, and a painting.
The presence of a poet is especially interesting, in that it gives a glimpse of Shakespeare’s conception of his own art. He knew from his experience of dedicating his early poems to the Earl of Southampton what was involved in the pursuit of patronage, and as a leading member of the King’s Men he was a firsthand witness of the rush for favors in the febrile atmosphere of the Jacobean court. The painter at the beginning of Timon assumes that the poet is assiduously preparing “some work, some dedication / To the great lord,” but the poet’s reply suggests that Shakespeare conceived of his own art in terms of sprezzatura, the air of seeming artlessness. It takes effort to strike fire from a flint, whereas poetry may slip out “idly” and “as a gum, which oozes / From whence ’tis nourished.”
The opening scenes of the play offer a superb presentation of how culture, both in classical times and Shakespeare’s, operates through an elaborate system of ceremonies and rituals in which hospitality and respect are key elements. The granting of favors and the lavishing of gifts are equally essential to the system. Gift giving was not a spontaneous act of generosity (is it ever?): the custom was integral to the network of social obligations and transactions in the early modern period.
In order to maintain the position in which he commands respect, Timon has to spend vast amounts of money throwing parties. As only the wise steward Flavius perceives, the continuance of the show has exhausted his master’s financial resources. On a smaller scale, Shakespeare himself had probably witnessed a similar process in his youth when his father reached a position of eminence in the community, but then overstretched himself, borrowed money, and ran into trouble because he could not pay his debts. It is a familiar enough story, though in Timon of Athens the scale of the wealth is inflated to an extreme and the spiral into poverty is accompanied by a philosophical commentary.
Generally speaking, Shakespeare is skeptical of the claims of philosophy. He is more interested in how people behave in extreme situations than in what they profess to believe. He only used the word “philosopher” ten times in his complete works. Four of these usages are in wry contexts in the comedies, while the other six are confined to two tragedies, written in close proximity to each other early in the reign of King James I. They are two tragedies that follow a similar pattern of a man going from high to low estate, out from city or court to forest or stormy place where there’s “scarce a bush.” In this “outside” space, the protagonist is filled with fury at his fellow humans. One of those two plays is King Lear, the other is Timon of Athens. The resemblances have often been observed.
A snatch of dialogue such as this could easily “change places and handy-dandy” with the voices of Lear and his Fool.
Jaques in As You Like It may fancy himself as a philosopher, but it is in the cast of Timon of Athens that we meet the only professional philosopher in Shakespeare: Apemantus. “I come to observe,” he says during Timon’s first banquet, and he will remain to offer his tart observations throughout the play. He is an extreme embodiment of the philosophy embraced by Jaques: Cynicism. A Cynic takes Stoic rejection of worldliness to an extreme; a Cynic, the saying had it, was a Stoic without a tunic. The paradigm was the outspoken and shameless Diogenes, who rejected “civilization” and returned to the “natural” life by becoming a vagabond. Apemantus is “the philosopher” in Shakespeare. Yet for Apemantus, as for Jaques, Cynicism is a pose. They both actually rather enjoy company and food. It is Timon who becomes the real thing.
In Act 2, the Fool goes off with Apemantus, saying “I do not always follow lover, elder brother and woman: sometime the philosopher.” As on many occasions in King Lear, a line spoken by the Fool is at a deeper level applicable to the main character. Timon is the one who follows the way of the philosopher instead of lover, brother, or woman. “I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind,” he will later announce. He becomes a Diogenes, rejecting all possessions and all worldliness, dying in his cave by the seashore.
The first half of the action is closed with a second banquet, in which with studied irony Timon offers his guests nothing instead of everything. Disgusted with mankind, he retreats to the woods. The general Alcibiades goes into exile at the same time: the point seems to be that both the military hero and the civic benefactor are victims of the system’s ingratitude, scapegoats of Athenian political arrogance. Like the exiled Coriolanus in another classical play written a couple of years later, Alcibiades marches against the city that has mistreated him. The Athenian senators respond by calling on Timon to perform the role of the reconciler that Volumnia plays in Coriolanus; he does so indirectly by committing suicide, symbolically removing hatred from the city and allowing Alcibiades to make peace with the state. The parallel plot is, however, sketched briefly in rather than worked fully out.
The core of the play is the massive third scene of the fourth act in which a succession of visitors comes to Timon in the forest, giving him the opportunity to vent his misanthropy. There is an elegant symmetry between the series of suitors seeking favors in the first half of the play and the series of visitors gawping at Timon’s misfortunes in the second. Among them is Apemantus, the professional philosopher. He has dealt Timon a few home truths in the opening scene, along the lines of “He that loves to be flattered is worthy o’th’flatterer.” Now he says, “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.” Athenian moral philosophy, embodied for the Renaissance in the figure of Aristotle, extolled the virtues of the middle way, the golden mean. Tragic drama is about people who will not follow that way, who go instead to the extreme. Considered thus, Timon is the exemplary tragic figure.
With its paucity of female characters and absence of familial bonds, this will always remain one of Shakespeare’s least known, least loved, and least performed plays. Its exposure of our enslavement to money is too close to the bone. Why would large numbers of people who have the financial comfort that allows them to benefit from the public art form of theater want to spend an evening being beaten up on the subject? The harsh beauty of Timon’s angry arias in the second half of the play, the exemplary loyalty of the steward Flavius, the incisive wit of Apemantus and the Fool: none of these are quite enough to compensate for the absence of an amorous or heroic counter-voice. Perhaps it would have been a different story if the character of Alcibiades had been more fully developed. It is small wonder that critics have persistently speculated—without any direct evidence—that the play was unfinished or unperformed.
Yet for intellectual muscle, the second half of the play is as powerful as anything in Shakespeare. It directly addresses one of the great questions in both his time and ours: the relationship between culture and nature. The home that Timon leaves and excoriates is the city of Athens, the birthplace of democracy, philosophy, and theater, the epitome of culture. When he goes into the woods, he is returning from culture to nature, reversing the process by which human cultural evolution has led to ever-greater alienation from our environmental origins. Initially, the angry exile believes that the order of nature is no different from that of the city he has left. He perceives natural forces to be in the same kind of relationship of exchange and deception as those of human society:
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 stolen
From gen’ral excrement: each thing’s a thief.
And he blames the earth for yielding up the precious metal, which is the origin of that commodity that is the root of all evil.
But in his downward spiral, Timon also makes a kind of spiritual ascent. His trajectory is not after all so very different from that of Antony and Cleopatra in the subsequent play that Shakespeare based on the same source in classical literature. Throwing away the gold, he finds peace in the imminence of death: “My long sickness / Of health and living now begins to mend, / And nothing brings me all things.” He makes “his everlasting mansion / Upon the beachèd verge of the salt flood.” His road from fickle worldly prosperity to the nothingness of death goes via the wood and peters out at the edge of the sea. The nineteenth-century critic William Hazlitt suggested that Timon ends by “seeking in the everlasting solemnities of nature oblivion from the transitory splendour of his lifetime.”
Though the play is couched in the ancient ascetic language of contemptus mundi, there was for Hazlitt, and there should be for us, something profoundly enduring about the image of a human soul contemplating the vastness of the ocean and being brought to the realization that money is not everything and indeed that nothing may bring all things. Like King Lear and his godson Edgar, Timon is one of a tiny handful of tragic characters who are brought to a place that we might call ground zero. The difference between the two plays is that in Lear the meaning of love is discovered amid the apocalypse, whereas in Timon a man dies alone, without any community save that of the elements of earth, sea, and sky.
AUTHORSHIP: Long considered to be an incomplete Shakespearean work, Timon of Athens has been shown by modern scholarship to be, in all probability, a collaboration between Shakespeare and Thomas Middleton, with the following likely distribution of scenes:
| 1.1 | Shakespeare, perhaps with some brief additions by Middleton |
| 1.2 | Middleton |
| 2.1 | Shakespeare |
| 2.2 | mixed authorship |
| 3.1–3.6 | Middleton |
| 3.7 | mixed (beginning and end by Middleton, middle by Shakespeare?) |
| 4.1 | Shakespeare |
| 4.2 | mixed authorship? |
| 4.3–5.1 | Shakespeare, with some Middleton additions (especially to the encounter between Timon and Flavius) |
| 5.2–5.4 | Shakespeare |
PLOT: Timon, a rich Athenian, is famous for his liberality. As the play opens a group of people is gathering outside Timon’s house, waiting to offer him flattering gifts or beg favors. There is much talk of his generosity and openheartedness, which is immediately borne out when he appears, paying a friend’s debts to free him from prison and giving money to a servant to allow him to marry. Only the cynical philosopher Apemantus has doubts about the sincerity of Timon’s friends. The young general Alcibiades is warmly welcomed by Timon, who invites him and other friends to a banquet, at which there is more lavish distribution of gifts. However, Timon’s steward Flavius realizes what his master doesn’t—that Timon’s extravagant lifestyle has emptied his coffers. Timon’s creditors start to ask for payment and one after another he asks his friends for help, only to be refused by all. He invites them all to a second banquet, where he turns the tables on them. Alcibiades pleads in vain with the senate for the life of one of his soldiers who has committed a murder; in anger they banish him from Athens. The disillusioned Timon goes to live as a recluse outside Athens, railing bitterly against mankind. One day, digging for roots to eat, he discovers gold. He gives it away, first to Alcibiades, to pay the army he has raised against Athens, and his two whores, Timandra and Phrynia, then to some bandits. He finally offers some to his steward Flavius. Hearing of this, more false friends come out to flatter Timon but he drives them away, along with the senators from Athens who come to beg for his help against Alcibiades. Alcibiades wins his war against the Athenian senators, at which point news reaches the city that Timon is dead.
MAJOR PARTS: (with percentage of lines/number of speeches/scenes on stage) Timon (34%/210/8), Apemantus (10%/100/4), Flavius (8%/41/6), Alcibiades (7%/39/5), Poet (4%/30/2), First Senator (4%/27/4), Painter (3%/30/2), Second Senator (3%/14/4), Lucilius (2%/13/2).
LINGUISTIC MEDIUM: 75% verse, 25% prose.
DATE: 1604–06? No firm evidence for date, but stylistic similarity suggests proximity to King Lear and Middleton’s A Trick to Catch the Old One (1605); this was the period when Middleton was writing for the King’s Men, so is likeliest for a collaboration. The shared source with Antony and Cleopatra (see below) supports such a date. The masque and the concern with flatterers are more Jacobean than Elizabethan (i.e., after the death of Queen Elizabeth in 1603); the absence of a clear five-act structure implies composition before the King’s Men began playing the indoor Blackfriars Theatre (i.e., before 1608).
SOURCES: There is a general outline of the Timon story in Plutarch’s “Life of Marcus Antonius,” which was Shakespeare’s main source for Antony and Cleopatra; Plutarch’s Lives of the Most Noble Grecians and Romanes also included a biography of Alcibiades, providing material for the subplot. The other major source is a dialogue on Timon by the second-century Greek satirist Lucian of Samosata (probably in the 1528 Latin translation by Erasmus). There are close resemblances, especially in the second banquet scene, to an anonymous university or Inns of Court comedy of Timon, which may be a source. It is possible that Shakespeare worked from Plutarch while Middleton brought knowledge of the academic play and Lucian. The character of Apemantus may also be indebted to the misanthropic philosopher Diogenes in John Lyly’s comedy Campaspe (1581).
TEXT: The relative brevity of the play and a plethora of internal inconsistencies, such as the interview between Flavius and Ventidius that is arranged at the end of Act 2 Scene 2 but never materializes, led to the hypothesis that Timon was an incomplete work. Co-authorship is now considered a much likelier explanation for the textual problems. Most scholars believe that the copy was set from the dramatists’ rough draft; though this is not known for certain, most of the difficulties are attributable to problems with the copy rather than the quality of the printers’ work.
TIMON OF ATHENS
FLAVIUS, steward to Timon
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain*
APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher
A POET
A PAINTER
A JEWELLER
A MERCHANT who trades in silks
A FOOL
AN OLD ATHENIAN MAN
A PAGE
VENTIDIUS, one of Timon’s false friends
SENATORS
CUPID and MASQUERS
BANDITTI
Three STRANGERS, the second called Hostilius
Two MESSENGERS
Other LORDS
Servants, Attendants
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant (a Mercer) at several doors
But what particular rarity?6 What strange,
Which manifold record7 not matches? See,
Magic of bounty,8 all these spirits thy power
Hath conjured9 to attend. I know the merchant.
To an untirable and continuate14 goodness:
15 He passes.15
20 It stains the glory in that happy20 verse
Which aptly21 sings the good.’
25 To the great lord.
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
30 Provokes itself30 and like the current flies
Each bound31 it chafes. What have you there?
Let’s see your piece.
Speaks his own standing! What a mental power
40 This eye shoots forth! How big40 imagination
Moves41 in this lip! To th’dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.
Here is a touch:44 is’t good?
It tutors nature:46 artificial strife
Lives in these touches livelier47 than life.
Enter certain Senators They pass over the stage
I have in this rough work shaped out a man Shows the poem
Whom this beneath world53 doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment:54 my free drift
55 Halts not particularly,55 but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax56 — no levelled malice
Infects one comma57 in the course I hold —
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no tract59 behind.
You see how all conditions,62 how all minds,
As well of glib63 and slipp’ry creatures as
Of grave64 and austere quality, tender down
65 Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging66
Subdues67 and properties to his love and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced68 flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
70 Than to abhor70 himself — even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns71 in peace
Most rich in Timon’s nod.72
75 Feigned75 Fortune to be throned: the base o’th’mount
Is ranked76 with all deserts, all kind of natures
That labour on the bosom of this sphere77
To propagate78 their states, amongst them all
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady79 fixed
80 One do I personate80 of Lord Timon’s frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts81 to her,
Whose82 present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.
85 This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckoned from the rest below,
Bowing his head against87 the sleepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well expressed
In our condition.89
All those which were his fellows91 but of late,
Some better than his value,92 on the moment
Follow his93 strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial94 whisperings in his ear,
95 Make sacred even his stirrup,95 and through him
Drink the free air.
Spurns down99 her late belovèd, all his dependants,
100 Which laboured after him to the mountain’s top
Even on their knees and hands, let him fly down,
Not one accompanying his declining102 foot.
A thousand moral paintings I can show
105 That shall demonstrate these quick105 blows of Fortune’s
More pregnantly106 than words. Yet you do well
To show Lord Timon that mean107 eyes have seen
The108 foot above the head.
Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon [with Lucilius and other servants following], addressing himself courteously to every suitor [and then speaking with a Messenger]
His means111 most short, his creditors most strait.
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up, which failing,
Periods114 his comfort.
I am not of that feather116 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.
And being enfranchised,122 bid him come to me:
’Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.
Exit
Enter an old Athenian
By night frequents my house. I am a man
135 That from my first135 have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised136
Than one137 which holds a trencher.
140 On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o’th’youngest141 for a bride,
And I have bred142 her at my dearest cost
In qualities143 of the best. This man of thine
Attempts144 her love: I prithee, noble lord,
145 Join with me to forbid him her resort,145
Myself have spoke in vain.
His honesty rewards him in itself,
150 It must not bear150 my daughter.
Our own precedent153 passions do instruct us
What levity’s154 in youth.
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
160 And dispossess her all.160
If she be mated with an equal husband?
165 To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For ’tis a bond166 in men. Give him thy daughter:
What you bestow, in him I’ll counterpoise,167
And make him weigh with168 her.
170 Pawn170 me to this your honour, she is his.
That state173 or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you!
Exeunt [Lucilius and Old Man]
Go not away.— What have you there, my friend? To the Painter
Your lordship to accept. Presents the painting
The painting is almost the natural man,181
For since dishonour traffics182 with man’s nature,
He183 is but outside: these pencilled figures are
Even184 such as they give out. I like your work,
185 And you shall185 find I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.
We must needs189 dine together.— Sir, your jewel To the Jeweller
190 Hath190 suffered under praise.
If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extolled193
It would unclew194 me quite.
As those196 which sell would give: but you well know
Things of like197 value differing in the owners
Are prized198 by their masters. Believe’t, dear lord,
You mend199 the jewel by the wearing it. Presents the jewel
Enter Apemantus
Which all men speak with him.
When208 thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
[Exeunt some Attendants]
You must needs dine with me.— Go not you hence
265 Till I have thanked you.— When dinner’s done, To Painter
Show me this piece.— I am joyful of your sights.266 To all
Enter Alcibiades, with the rest
Most welcome, sir!
Aches contract and starve269 your supple joints!
270 That there should be small270 love amongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain271 of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
Most hungerly274 on your sight.
Ere276 we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time
In different277 pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
Exeunt [all except Apemantus]
Enter two Lords
[Exit]
And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? He outgoes293
The very heart of kindness.
Is but his steward:296 no meed, but he repays
Sevenfold above itself: no gift to him
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All299 use of quittance.
That ever governed man.
I’ll keep you company.
Exeunt
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in: and then enter Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, [Alcibiades and] Ventidius, which Timon redeemed from prison. Then comes, dropping, after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father’s age,
And call him to long peace.3
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
5 Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free6 heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service,7 from whose help
I derived liberty. Offers money
10 Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love:
I gave it freely ever,11 and there’s none
Can truly say he12 gives if he receives.
If our betters play at that game,13 we must not dare
To imitate them: faults14 that are rich are fair.
Ceremony17 was but devised at first
To set18 a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting19 goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown,
20 But where there is true friendship, there needs none.20
Pray, sit: more welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me. They sit
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Does not become29 a man: ’tis much to blame.
30 They say, my lords, Ira241 furor brevis est,
But yond31 man is ever angry.
Go, let him have a table by himself,
For he does neither affect33 company,
Nor is he fit for’t, indeed.
I come to observe,36 I give thee warning on’t.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
Methinks they should invite them without knives:44
45 Good45 for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There’s much example46 for’t: the fellow that sits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges47 the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him: ’t’as been proved. If I were a huge48 man, I should fear to drink at meals, Lest they should spy49 my windpipe’s dangerous notes: Great men should drink with harness50 on their throats.
55 Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner55 —
Honest water — which ne’er left man i’th’mire.56
This and my food are equals, there’s no odds.57
Feasts are too proud58 to give thanks to the gods.
Apemantus’ grace
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf.59
60 I pray for no man but myself:
Grant I may never prove so fond,61
To trust man on his oath or bond,
Or a harlot63 for her weeping
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping,
65 Or a keeper65 with my freedom,
Or my friends if I should need ’em.
Amen. So fall to’t.67
Rich men sin, and I eat root.68
Much good dich69 thy good heart, Apemantus! Eats
95 And at that instant like a babe sprung up.95
Sound tucket
Enter Servant
Enter Cupid with the masque of Ladies The Masquers stay back
Of his bounties taste! The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely
To gratulate108 thy plenteous bosom:
There109 taste, touch, all, pleased from thy table rise.
110 They only110 now come but to feast thine eyes.
Music, make their welcome! Cupid brings forward the Masquers
Enter the Masquers of Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing
115 They dance? They are madwomen.
Like116 madness is the glory of this life
As117 this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools to disport118 ourselves,
And spend119 our flatteries, to drink those men
120 Upon whose age120 we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.121
Who lives that’s not depravèd122 or depraves?
Who dies that bears not one spurn123 to their graves
Of124 their friends’ gift?
125 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 single out an Amazon and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease
Set129 a fair fashion on our entertainment,
130 Which was not half so beautiful and kind:130
You have added worth unto’t and lustre,
And entertained me with mine own device.132
I am to thank you for’t.
Please you to dispose yourselves.137
Exeunt [Cupid and Ladies]
There is no crossing143 him in’s humour,
Else I should tell him well144 — i’ faith I should —
145 When all’s spent, he’d be crossed145 then, an he could.
’Tis pity bounty had146 not eyes behind,
That man might ne’er be wretched for his mind.147
Exit
Enter Flavius Carrying the casket
I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,
I must entreat you honour me so much Gives a jewel from the casket
As to advance154 this jewel. Accept it and wear it,
155 Kind my lord.
Enter a Servant
[Exit Servant]
Vouchsafe162 me a word: it does concern you near.
I prithee, let’s be provided164 to show them entertainment.
Out of his free168 love — hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses trapped169 in silver.
170 Be worthily entertained.170 [Exit Second Servant]
Enter a Third Servant
How now? What news?
Not without fair176 reward.
[Exit Third Servant]
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer:179
180 Nor will he know his purse,180 or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make182 his wishes good.
His promises fly so beyond his state183
That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes
185 For ev’ry word: he is so kind that he now
Pays interest for’t; his land’s put186 to their books.
Well, would187 I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out.
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
190 Than190 such that do e’en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.
Exit
Much wrong, you bate193 too much of your own merits.
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. Gives a gift to Second Lord
Good words197 the other day of a bay courser198 I rode on.
’Tis yours, because you liked it.
Can justly praise but what he does affect.202
I weigh203 my friend’s affection with mine own,
I’ll tell you true. I’ll call to204 you.
So kind to heart, ’tis not enough to give:
Methinks I could deal208 kingdoms to my friends,
And ne’er be weary.— Alcibiades,
210 Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
It comes in charity to thee, for all thy living211 Gives a gift?
Is ’mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitched213 field.
220 Honour and fortunes keep with you, Lord Timon!
Exeunt Lords. [Apemantus and Timon remain]
Serving223 of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs224 be worth the sums
225 That are given for ’em. Friendship’s full of dregs:225
Methinks false226 hearts should never have sound legs,
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtsies.
Exit
Thou236 wilt not hear me now, thou shalt not then.
I’ll lock thy heaven237 from thee.
O, that men’s ears should be
To counsel239 deaf, but not to flattery!
Exit
Enter a Senator With bonds in his hand
He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum,
Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion3
Of raging waste? It cannot hold,4 it will not.
5 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 foals9 me straight
10 And able horses. No porter10 at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still11 invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason
Can sound13 his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!
Enter Caphis
Importune17 him for my moneys. Be not ceased
With slight18 denial, nor then silenced when
‘Commend me to your master’, and the cap
20 Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him
My uses21 cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own,22 his days and times are past
And my reliances on his fracted23 dates
Have smit24 my credit. I love and honour him,
25 But must not break my back to heal his finger.
Immediate are my needs, and my relief26
Must not be tossed and turned27 to me in words,
But find supply28 immediate. Get you gone.
Put on a most importunate29 aspect,
30 A visage of demand, for I do fear
When every feather31 sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,32
Which flashes33 now a phoenix. Get you gone.
And have36 the dates in. Come.
Exeunt
Enter Steward [Flavius], with many bills in his hand
That he will neither know2 how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot,3 takes no account
How things go from him, nor resume4 no care
5 Of what5 is to continue. Never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? He will not hear, till feel.7
I must be round8 with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!
Enter Caphis, [meeting Servants of] Isidore and Varro
Enter Timon and his train [including Alcibiades]
My Alcibiades.— With me? What is your will? To Caphis
To24 the succession of new days this month:
25 My master is awaked25 by great occasion
To call26 upon his own, and humbly prays you
That with27 your other noble parts you’ll suit
In giving him his right.
30 I prithee but repair30 to me next morning.
35 He humbly prays your speedy payment.
Am sent expressly to your lordship.
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on:41 To his train
I’ll wait upon42 you instantly.—
[Exeunt Alcibiades and Lords]
Come hither. Pray you, To Flavius
How goes44 the world that I am thus encountered
45 With clamorous demands45 of broken bonds
And the detention46 of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?47
The time is unagreeable to49 this business:
50 Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.
See them well entertained. To Flavius
[Exit]
Exit
Enter Apemantus and Fool
Enter Page
Exit
Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon’s.
Enter Timon and Steward
[Exeunt Apemantus and Fool]
Exeunt [Servants]
Had you not fully laid my state before me,
That I might so have rated123 my expense
As I had leave of means?
At many leisures126 I proposed.
Perchance128 some single vantages you took
When my indisposition129 put you back,
130 And that130 unaptness made your minister
Thus to excuse yourself.
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you: you would throw them off,
135 And say, you found135 them in mine honesty.
When for some trifling present you have bid me
Return so much, I have shook my head and wept:
Yea, gainst138 th’authority of manners prayed you
To hold your hand more close.139 I did endure
140 Not seldom, nor no slight checks140 when I have
Prompted you in141 the ebb of your estate
And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
Though you hear now too late, yet now’s a time:143
The greatest144 of your having lacks a half
145 To pay your present debts.
And what remains will hardly stop148 the mouth
Of present dues.149 The future comes apace:
150 What shall defend the interim,150 and at length
How goes our reck’ning?151
Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
155 How quickly were it gone!
Call me before th’exactest auditors158
And set me on the proof.159 So the gods bless me,
160 When all our offices160 have been oppressed
With riotous feeders,161 when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth162 of wine, when every room
Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy,163
I have retired me to a wasteful cock,164
165 And set165 mine eyes at flow.
How many prodigal bits168 have slaves and peasants
This night englutted!169 Who is not Timon’s?
170 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:
175 Feast-won, fast-lost;175 one cloud of winter show’rs,
These flies are couched.176
No villainous178 bounty yet hath passed my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
180 Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience180 lack,
To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart:
If I would broach182 the vessels of my love
And try183 the argument of hearts by borrowing,
Men and men’s fortunes could I frankly184 use
185 As I can bid thee speak.
That I account188 them blessings, for by these
Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you
190 Mistake my fortunes. I am wealthy in my friends.—
Within there, Flaminius, Servilius! Calls
Enter three Servants
to Lord Lucullus you — I hunted with his honour today— To Flaminius
you to Sempronius. To Third Servant Commend me to their loves, and I am proud, say, that my occasions196 have found time to use ’em toward a supply of money: let the request be fifty talents.
[Exeunt the Servants]
Of whom, even to the state’s best health,201 I have
Deserved this hearing — bid ’em send o’th’instant
A thousand talents to me.
205 For that205 I knew it the most general way —
To them to use your signet206 and your name,
But they do shake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.
That now they are at fall,211 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
215 May catch a wrench215 — would all were well — ’tis pity.
And so, intending216 other serious matters,
After distasteful looks and these hard fractions,217
With certain half-caps218 and cold-moving nods
They froze me into silence.
Prithee, man, look cheerly.221 These old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:222
Their blood is caked,223 ’tis cold, it seldom flows:
’Tis224 lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
225 And nature, as it grows225 again toward earth,
Is fashioned for the journey, dull226 and heavy.—
Go to Ventidius.— Prithee be not sad: To a Servant/To Flavius
Thou art true and honest; ingeniously228 I speak.
No blame belongs to thee.— Ventidius lately To Servant
230 Buried his father, by whose death he’s stepped230
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 necessity234
235 Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered
With those five talents.—
[Exit Servant]
That had, give’t these fellows To Flavius
To whom ’tis instant due. Ne’er speak or think
That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.
240 Being free240 itself, it thinks all others so.
Exeunt
[Enter] Flaminius waiting to speak with a Lord from his master, enters a Servant to him
Enter Lucullus
And how does that honourable, complete,7 free-hearted gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord and master?
[Exit Servant]
Enter Servant with wine
[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 bare30 friendship without security. Gives money Here’s three solidares31 for thee. Good boy, wink at me and say thou saw’st me not. Fare thee well.
And we alive that lived? Fly, damnèd baseness,
35 To him that worships thee. Throws back the money
Exit
Let molten38 coin be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!39
40 Has friendship such a faint and milky40 heart,
It turns41 in less than two nights? O you gods,
I feel my master’s passion!42 This slave
Unto his honour has my43 lord’s meat in him:
Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment,44
45 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.49
Exit
Enter Lucius with three Strangers
Enter Servilius
I have sweat19 to see his honour.— My honoured lord.— To Lucius
He cannot want fifty— five hundred talents! Reads the note
30 If his occasion were not virtuous,30
I should not urge it half so faithfully.
Exit Servilius
True as you said, Timon is shrunk46 indeed:
And he that’s once denied will hardly speed.47
Exit
Is every flatterer’s sport. Who can call him his friend
That dips52 in the same dish? For, in my knowing,
Timon has been53 this lord’s father,
And kept his54 credit with his purse,
55 Supported his estate: nay, Timon’s money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne’er drinks,
But Timon’s silver treads57 upon his lip,
And yet — O, see the monstrousness58 of man
When he looks out59 in an ungrateful shape! —
He does deny him, in60 respect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars.
I never tasted64 Timon in my life,
65 Nor came any of his bounties over65 me
To mark me for his friend: yet I protest,
For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue
And honourable carriage,68
Had his necessity made use of me
70 I would have put70 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 with73 pity to dispense,
For policy74 sits above conscience.
Exeunt
Enter a third Servant with Sempronius, another of Timon’s friends
He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus,
And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeemed from prison: all these
5 Owes their estates unto him.
They have all been touched7 and found base metal,
For they have all denied him.
10 Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him,
And does he send to me? Three? Hum!
It shows but little love or judgement in him.
Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,
Thrive,14 give him over: must I take th’cure upon me?
15 He’s much disgraced me in’t: I’m angry at him,
That16 might have known my place. I see no sense for’t,
But his occasions might have wooed me first,
For, in my conscience,18 I was the first man
That e’er receivèd gift from him:
20 And does he think so backwardly20 of me now
That I’ll requite21 it last? No:
So it may prove an argument22 of laughter
To th’rest, and ’mongst lords be thought a fool.
I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum,
25 Had25 sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake:
I’d such a courage26 to do him good. But now return,
And with their faint27 reply this answer join:
Who bates28 mine honour shall not know my coin.
Exit
This was my lord’s best hope. Now all are fled,
35 Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead.35
Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards36
Many37 a bounteous year must be employed
Now to guard sure38 their master.
And this is all a liberal39 course allows:
40 Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.40
Exit
Enter Varro’s man meeting others: all Timon’s creditors to wait for his coming out. Then Enter [a Servant of] Lucius, [Titus] and Hortensius
5 For mine is money.
Enter Philotus
10 What do you think the hour?10
You must consider that a prodigal17 course
Is like the sun’s,18
But not, like his, recoverable. I fear
20 ’Tis deepest winter in Lord Timon’s purse: that is,
One may reach deep enough, and yet find little.
Your lord sends now for money?
For27 which I wait for money.
30 Timon in this should pay more than he owes,
And e’en31 as if your lord should wear rich jewels,
And send for money for ’em.
I know my lord hath spent of Timon’s wealth,
35 And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.35
Your master’s confidence39 was above mine,
40 Else surely his had equalled.40
Enter Flaminius
[Exit]
Enter Steward [Flavius] in a cloak, muffled
If money were as certain as your waiting,
’Twere sure enough.
55 Why then preferred55 you not your sums and bills
When your false56 masters eat of my lord’s meat?
Then they could smile and fawn57 upon his debts
And take down58 th’interest into their glutt’nous maws.
You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up:59
60 Let me pass quietly.
Believe’t, my lord and I have made an end:61
I have no more to reckon,62 he to spend.
65 For you serve knaves.
[Exit]
Enter Servilius
And if76 it be so far beyond his health,
Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts
And make78 a clear way to the gods.
Within
Enter Timon, in a rage
Have I been ever free,83 and must my house
Be my retentive84 enemy, my jail?
85 The place which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
Exit Timon
Exeunt
Enter Timon [and Flavius]
Creditors? Devils!
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius — all luxurs,9 all.
10 I’ll once more feast the rascals.
You only speak from your distracted12 soul;
There’s not so much left to furnish out
A moderate table.
I charge thee, invite them all. Let in the tide
Of knaves once more: my cook and I’ll provide.
Exeunt
Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants
Bloody:2 ’tis necessary he should die.
Nothing emboldens3 sin so much as mercy.
For pity is the virtue of the law,
And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
10 It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood11
Hath stepped into12 the law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed,13 do plunge into’t.
He is a man, setting his fate14 aside,
15 Of comely15 virtues:
Nor did he soil16 the fact with cowardice —
And honour in him which buys out17 his fault —
But with a noble fury and fair18 spirit,
Seeing his reputation touched to death,19
20 He did oppose his foe,
And with such sober21 and unnoted passion
He did behave22 his anger, ere ’twas spent,
As if he had but23 proved an argument.
25 Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:
Your words have took such pains as if they laboured
To bring manslaughter into form27 and set quarrelling
Upon the head28 of valour; which indeed
Is valour misbegot29 and came into the world
30 When sects and factions were newly born.
He’s truly valiant that can wisely suffer31
The worst that man can breathe,32
And make his wrongs33 his outsides,
To wear them like his raiment,34 carelessly,
35 And ne’er prefer35 his injuries to his heart
To bring it into danger.
If wrongs37 be evils and enforce us kill,
What folly ’tis to hazard life for ill!38
To revenge is no valour, but to bear.41
If I speak like a captain.43
Why do fond44 men expose themselves to battle,
45 And not endure all threats? Sleep upon’t,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats
Without repugnancy?47 If there be
Such valour in the bearing, what48 make we
Abroad? Why then, women are more valiant
50 That stay at home, if bearing50 carry it.
And the ass more captain than the lion, the fellow
Loaden with irons52 wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good.
55 Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sin’s extremest gust,56
But in defence, by mercy,57 ’tis most just.
To be in anger is impiety,
But who is man that is not angry?
60 Weigh60 but the crime with this.
At Lacedaemon63 and Byzantium
Were a sufficient briber64 for his life.
And slain in fight many of your enemies:
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
He’s a sworn rioter: he has a sin71
That often drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner:
If there were no foes, that were enough
To overcome him. In74 that beastly fury
75 He has been known to commit outrages
And cherish factions:76 ’tis inferred to us,
His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
80 My lords, if not for any parts80 in him —
Though his right81 arm might purchase his own time
And be in debt to none — yet, more to move you,
Take my deserts83 to his and join ’em both.
And for84 I know
85 Your reverend ages love security,85
I’ll pawn86 my victories, all my honour to you,
Upon87 his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive’t in valiant gore,89
90 For law is strict, and war is nothing more.
On92 height of our displeasure. Friend or brother,
He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
95 My lords, I do beseech you know95 me.
100 It could not else be, I should prove so base
To sue101 and be denied such common grace.
My wounds ache at you.
’Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:104
105 We banish thee for ever.
Banish your dotage,107 banish usury
That makes the senate ugly.
110 Attend110 our weightier judgement. And, not to swell our spirit,
He shall be executed presently.111
Exeunt [Senators]
Only in bone,113 that none may look on you!
I’m worse than mad: I have kept back their foes
115 While they have told115 their money and let out
Their coin upon large interest, I myself
Rich only in large hurts. All those for this?
Is this the balsam118 that the usuring senate
Pours into captains’ wounds? Banishment!
120 It comes not ill:120 I hate not to be banished.
It is a cause worthy121 my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I’ll cheer up
My discontented troops, and lay for123 hearts.
’Tis honour with most lands to be at odds.124
125 Soldiers should brook125 as little wrongs as gods.
Exit
Enter divers friends [Lords and Senators] at several doors
Enter Timon and Attendants
Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay.23 Feast your ears with the music awhile, if24 they will fare so harshly o’th’trumpet’s sound: we shall to’t presently.25
The banquet brought in
Come, bring in all together. To Servants, who bring in covered dishes
You knot68 of mouth-friends. Smoke and lukewarm water
Is your perfection.69 This is Timon’s last,
70 Who, stuck and spangled70 with your flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking72 villainy. Live loathed and long, Throws water at them
Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
75 You fools of fortune, trencher-friends,75 time’s flies,
Cap76 and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!
Of man and beast the infinite77 malady
Crust you quite o’er!— A Lord gets up to leave
What, dost thou go?
Soft,79 take thy physic first.— Thou too, and thou. Throws the stones at them
80 Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. Leaving their caps and gowns
[Exeunt the Lords]
What, all in motion? Henceforth be81 no feast,
Whereat82 a villain’s not a welcome guest.
Burn, house! Sink, Athens! Henceforth hated be
Of84 Timon, man and all humanity!
Exit
Enter the Senators with other Lords
Exeunt the Senators [and Lords]
Enter Timon
That girdles in2 those wolves, dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons,3 turn incontinent,
Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools,
5 Pluck the grave5 wrinkled senate from the bench,
And minister6 in their steads! To general filths
Convert o’th’instant, green7 virginity:
Do’t8 in your parents’ eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast
Rather than render back; out with your knives,
10 And cut your trusters’10 throats! Bound servants, steal!
Large-handed11 robbers your grave masters are,
And pill12 by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed,
Thy mistress is o’th’brothel!13 Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lined14 crutch from thy old limping sire,
15 With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear,
Religion16 to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestic awe,17 night-rest, and neighbourhood,
Instruction,18 manners, mysteries and trades,
Degrees,19 observances, customs and laws,
20 Decline to your confounding contraries,20
And yet confusion live! Plagues incident21 to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Athens, ripe for stroke!23 Thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators that their limbs may halt24
25 As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty25
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
That gainst the stream of virtue they may strive27
And drown themselves in riot!28 Itches, blains,
Sow all th’Athenian bosoms,29 and their crop
30 Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath,
That their society, as their friendship, may
Be merely32 poison! Nothing I’ll bear from thee
But nakedness, thou detestable town. Tears off his clothes
Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!34
35 Timon will to the woods, where he shall find
Th’unkindest beast more kinder36 than mankind.
The gods confound37 — hear me, you good gods all —
Th’Athenians both within and out that wall,
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
40 To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen.
Exit
Enter Steward [Flavius] with two or three Servants
Are we undone,2 cast off, nothing remaining?
Let4 me be recorded by the righteous gods,
5 I am as poor as you.
So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and not
One friend to take8 his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him?
From our companion thrown into his grave,
So his familiars12 to his buried fortunes
Slink all away, leave their false vows with him
Like empty purses picked;14 and his poor self,
15 A dedicated15 beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunned16 poverty,
Walks like contempt alone. More of our fellows.17
Enter other Servants
20 That see I by our faces. We are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our bark,21
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying22 deck
Hearing the surges23 threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.
The latest26 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 knell29 unto our master’s fortunes,
30 ‘We have seen better days.’ Let each take some: Offers money
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more.
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
Embrace, and [the Servants] part several ways
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory33 brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
35 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 pomp38 and all what state compounds
But only painted,39 like his varnished friends?
40 Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,41
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 mar44 men.
45 My dearest lord, blessed to be most accursed,
Rich only to be wretched,46 thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He’s flung48 in rage from this ingrateful seat
Of monstrous49 friends:
50 Nor has he with him to50 supply his life,
Or that which can command51 it.
I’ll follow and inquire52 him out:
I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will.
Whilst I have gold, I’ll be his steward still.
Exit
Enter Timon in the woods With a spade
Rotten humidity: below thy sister’s orb2
Infect the air. Twinned brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence,4 and birth,
5 Scarce is dividant,5 touch them with several fortunes,
The greater scorns the lesser. Not6 nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me9 this beggar, and deny’t that lord,
10 The senators shall bear contempt hereditary,10
The beggar native honour.11
It is the pasture12 lards the beggar’s sides,
The want13 that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares
In purity of manhood14 stand upright
15 And say ‘This man’s a flatterer’? If one be,
So are they all, for every grece16 of fortune
Is smoothed17 by that below. The learnèd pate
Ducks18 to the golden fool. All’s oblique:
There’s nothing level19 in our cursèd natures
20 But direct20 villainy. Therefore be abhorred
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable,22 yea, himself, Timon disdains.
Destruction fang23 mankind. Earth, yield me roots. Digs
Who seeks for better of24 thee, sauce his palate
25 With thy most operant25 poison! What is here? Discovers gold
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold?
No, gods, I am no idle votarist:27
Roots, you clear28 heavens. Thus much of this will make
Black white, foul fair, wrong right,
30 Base noble, old young, coward valiant.
Ha, you gods! Why this? What this, you gods? Why, this
Will lug32 your priests and servants from your sides,
Pluck stout men’s pillows from below their heads:
This yellow slave
35 Will knit35 and break religions, bless th’accursed,
Make the hoar36 leprosy adored, place thieves
And give them title, knee37 and approbation
With senators on the bench. This is it
That makes the wappened39 widow wed again;
40 She whom the spittle house40 and ulcerous sores
Would cast41 the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To th’April day42 again. Come, damnèd earth,
Thou common whore43 of mankind, that puts odds
Among the rout44 of nations, I will make thee
45 Do45 thy right nature.
March afar off
Ha? A drum? Thou’rt quick,
But yet I’ll bury thee: thou’lt go,46 strong thief, Buries the gold
When gouty keepers47 of thee cannot stand.
Nay, stay thou out for earnest.48 Keeps some of the gold
Enter Alcibiades with Drum and Fife in warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra
For showing me again the eyes of man!
That art thyself a man?
55 For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.56
But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.58
60 I not desire to know. Follow thy drum,
With man’s blood paint the ground gules,61 gules.
Religious canons,62 civil laws are cruel:
Then what should war be? This fell63 whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
65 For all her cherubin look.65
To thine own lips again.
But then renew71 I could not like the moon:
There were no suns to borrow of.
Voiced so regardfully?84
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt89 hours: season the slaves
90 For tubs and baths,90 bring down rose-cheeked youth
To the tub-fast91 and the diet.
Are drowned and lost in his calamities.
I have but little gold of late,95 brave Timon,
The want whereof96 doth daily make revolt
In my penurious97 band. I have heard and grieved
How cursèd Athens, mindless98 of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
100 But100 for thy sword and fortune trod upon them—
I had rather be alone.
Here is some gold for thee.
And thee after, when thou hast conquered!
115 Thou wast born to conquer my country.
Put up116 thy gold. Go on, here’s gold, go on.
Be as a planetary plague117 when Jove
Will118 o’er some high-viced city hang his poison
In the sick119 air. Let not thy sword skip one.
120 Pity not honoured age for his white beard:
He is an usurer. Strike me121 the counterfeit matron:
It is her habit122 only that is honest,
Herself’s a bawd. Let not the virgin’s cheek
Make soft thy trenchant124 sword, for those milk-paps
125 That through the window-bars125 bore at men’s eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity126 writ,
But set127 them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust128 their mercy;
Think it a bastard whom the oracle
130 Hath doubtfully130 pronounced the throat shall cut,
And mince131 it sans remorse. Swear against objects,
Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes
Whose proof133 nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
135 Shall pierce a jot. There’s gold to pay thy soldiers: Offers gold
Make large confusion,136 and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself. Speak not, be gone.
Not all thy counsel.139
And to make143 whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant.144 Throws gold into their aprons
You are not oathable,
145 Although I know you’ll swear, terribly swear
Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues146
Th’immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths:
I’ll trust to your conditions.148 Be whores still,
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
150 Be strong in whore,150 allure him, burn him up:
Let your close fire151 predominate his smoke,
And be no turncoats.152 Yet may your pains six months
Be quite contrary, and thatch your poor thin roofs153
With burdens of154 the dead — some that were hanged,
155 No matter. Wear them, betray with them, whore still,
Paint156 till a horse may mire upon your face.
A pox157 of wrinkles!
Believe’t that we’ll do159 anything for gold.
In hollow bones of man, strike their sharp161 shins,
And mar162 men’s spurring. Crack the lawyer’s voice,
That he may never more false title163 plead,
Nor sound his quillets164 shrilly. Hoar the flamen
165 That scolds165 against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself. Down166 with the nose,
Down with it flat: take the bridge quite away
Of him that, his168 particular to foresee,
Smells169 from the general weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald,
170 And let the unscarred braggarts170 of the war
Derive some pain from you. Plague all,
That your activity172 may defeat and quell
The source of all erection.173 There’s more gold.
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
175 And ditches grave175 you all!
If I thrive well, I’ll visit thee again.
185 Thy beagles185 with thee.
Exeunt [all but Timon]
Should yet be hungry! Common mother,188 thou
Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast
190 Teems190 and feeds all, whose selfsame mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,191
Engenders192 the black toad and adder blue,
The gilded193 newt and eyeless venomed worm,
With all th’abhorrèd births below crisp194 heaven
195 Whereon195 Hyperion’s quick’ning fire doth shine —
Yield him, who all thy human sons do hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom one poor root.
Ensear198 thy fertile and conceptious womb:
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man.
200 Go great200 with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears,
Teem with new monsters whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled202 mansion all above
Never presented! O, a root. Dear thanks! Finds a root
Dry up thy marrows,204 vines, and plough-torn leas,
205 Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish205 draughts
And morsels unctuous206 greases his pure mind,
That207 from it all consideration slips!
Enter Apemantus
More man? Plague, plague!
210 Thou dost affect210 my manners, and dost use them.
Whom I would212 imitate. Consumption catch thee!
A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
215 From change of fortune. Why this spade? This place?
This slave-like habit?216 And these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet217 wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
Hug their diseased perfumes,218 and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods
220 By putting on220 the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee; hinge thy knee222
And let his very breath whom thou’lt observe223
Blow off thy cap: praise his most vicious strain,224
225 And call it excellent. Thou225 wast told thus:
Thou gav’st thine ears,226 like tapsters that bade welcome,
To knaves and all approachers. ’Tis most just
That thou turn rascal:228 hadst thou wealth again,
Rascals should have’t. Do not assume my likeness.
A madman so long, now a fool. What, think’st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous233 chamberlain,
Will put234 thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees
235 That have outlived the eagle page thy heels235
And skip236 when thou point’st out? Will the cold brook,
Candied237 with ice, caudle thy morning taste
To cure thy o’ernight’s238 surfeit? Call the creatures
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
240 Of wreakful240 heaven, whose bare unhousèd trunks
To the conflicting elements exposed
Answer242 mere nature: bid them flatter thee.
O, thou shalt find—
Dost252 please thyself in’t?
To castigate thy pride, ’twere well:256 but thou
Dost it enforcèdly.257 Thou’dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery258
Outlives incertain259 pomp, is crowned before:
260 The one260 is filling still, never complete,
The other, at high wish.261 Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being 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 swath268 proceeded
The sweet degrees269 that this brief world affords
270 To such as may the passive drugs270 of it
Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
In general riot,272 melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust, and never learned
The icy precepts of respect,274 but followed
275 The sugared game275 before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary,
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men
At duty,278 more than I could frame employment,
That numberless upon me stuck as leaves
280 Do on the oak, have with one winter’s brush280
Fell281 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,284 time
285 Hath made thee hard in’t.285 Why shouldst thou hate men?
They never flattered thee. What hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,287
Must be thy subject, who in spite put288 stuff
To some she beggar and compounded289 thee
290 Poor rogue hereditary.290 Hence, be gone.
If thou hadst not been born the worst291 of men,
Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.
Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee
I’d give thee leave298 to hang it. Get thee gone.
That299 the whole life of Athens were in this!
300 Thus would I eat it. Eats a root
305 If not, I would it were.305
Tell them there I have gold. Look, so I have. Shows gold
For here it sleeps, and does311 no hirèd harm.
Where feed’st thou a-days, Apemantus?
I’ll366 beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
Choler369 does kill me that thou art alive.
370 I swoon to see thee.
I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.
I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
But even379 the mere necessities upon’t.
380 Then, Timon, presently380 prepare thy grave:
Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph,
That383 death in me at others’ lives may laugh.—
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear384 divorce To the gold
385 ’Twixt natural385 son and sire: thou bright defiler
Of Hymen’s386 purest bed, thou valiant Mars,
Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian’s389 lap: thou visible god,
390 That sold’rest390 close impossibilities
And mak’st them kiss; that speak’st with every tongue,391
To every purpose! O thou touch392 of hearts:
Think393 thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds,394 that beasts
395 May have the world in empire.
But not till I am dead. I’ll say th’hast gold:
Thou wilt be thronged to shortly.
Exit Apemantus
Enter the Banditti At a distance
Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots:
Within this mile break forth a hundred springs:
The oaks bear mast,424 the briers scarlet hips.
425 The bounteous housewife nature on each bush
Lays her full mess426 before you. Want? Why want?
As beasts and birds and fishes.
430 You must eat430 men. Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves professed,431 that you work not
In holier shapes,432 for there is boundless theft
In limited433 professions. Rascal thieves,
Here’s gold. Go, suck434 the subtle blood o’th’grape
435 Till the high fever seethe435 your blood to froth,
And so scape hanging.436 Trust not the physician,
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob. Take wealth and lives together:
Do, villains, do, since you protest439 to do’t,
440 Like workmen. I’ll example you440 with thievery.
The sun’s a thief, and with his great attraction441
Robs the vast sea: the moon’s an arrant442 thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
The sea’s a thief, whose liquid surge resolves444
445 The moon into salt tears: the earth’s a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture446 stolen
From gen’ral excrement: each thing’s a thief.
The laws, your448 curb and whip, in their rough power
Has unchecked theft.449 Love not yourselves, away,
450 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. Steal453 less for this I give you,
And gold confound you howsoe’er. Amen.
Exeunt Thieves
Enter the Steward to Timon
Is yond462 despised and ruinous man my lord?
Full of decay and failing? O monument463
And wonder464 of good deeds evilly bestowed!
465 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 rarely469 does it meet with this time’s guise,
470 When man was wished to love his enemies!
Grant I may ever love and rather woo
Those that472 would mischief me than those that do!
Has473 caught me in his eye: I will present
My honest grief unto him; and as my lord
475 Still475 serve him with my life.— My dearest master!
Then, if thou grant’st thou’rt a man, I have forgot thee.
I never had honest man about me: ay, all
I kept were knaves483 to serve in meat to villains.
485 Ne’er did poor steward wear a truer grief
For his undone486 lord than mine eyes for you. Weeps
Because thou art a woman, and disclaim’st488
Flinty489 mankind whose eyes do never give
490 But thorough490 lust and laughter. Pity’s sleeping:
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
T’accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts
To entertain494 me as your steward still.
So true, so just, and now so comfortable?496
It almost turns my dangerous nature wild.
Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
Was born of woman.
500 Forgive my general and exceptless500 rashness,
You perpetual sober501 gods! I do proclaim
One honest man — mistake me not, but502 one,
No more, I pray — and he’s a steward.
How fain504 would I have hated all mankind,
505 And thou redeem’st thyself. But all save thee
I fell506 with curses.
Methinks thou art more honest now than wise,
For by oppressing508 and betraying me
Thou mightst have sooner got another service:509
510 For many so arrive at second masters
Upon511 their first lord’s neck. But tell me true —
For I must ever doubt, though512 ne’er so sure —
Is not thy kindness subtle,513 covetous,
If not a usuring514 kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,
515 Expecting in return twenty for one?
Doubt and suspect,517 alas, are placed too late.
You should have feared false times when you did feast:
Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
520 That which I show, heaven knows, is merely520 love,
Duty and zeal to your unmatchèd521 mind,
Care of your food and living, and, believe it,
My most honoured lord,
For524 any benefit that points to me,
525 Either in hope525 or present, I’d exchange
For this one wish: that you had power and wealth
To requite527 me by making rich yourself.
Here, take: the gods out of my misery Gives gold
530 Has sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,
But thus conditioned:531 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
535 What thou deniest to men: let prisons swallow ’em,
Debts wither ’em to nothing, be men like blasted536 woods,
And may diseases lick up their false bloods.
And so farewell and thrive.
540 And comfort you, my master.
Stay not: fly, whilst thou art blessed and free.
Ne’er see thou man, and let me ne’er see thee.
Exit [Flavius] Timon retires into his cave
Enter Poet and Painter
Enter Timon from his cave Unobserved by the others
Then28 do we sin against our own estate,
When we may profit meet and come too late.
When the day serves,31 before black-cornered night,
Find what thou want’st by free and offered light. Come.
That he is worshipped in a baser temple
35 Than where swine feed!
’Tis thou36 that rigg’st the bark and plough’st the foam,
Settlest37 admirèd reverence in a slave:
To thee be worship, and thy saints38 for aye
Be crowned with plagues that thee alone obey.
40 Fit40 I meet them. Comes forward
45 Having often of your open45 bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retired,46 your friends fall’n off,
Whose thankless natures — O abhorrèd spirits! —
Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:
What, to you,
50 Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence50
To their whole being? I am rapt51 and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any size53 of words.
55 You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them56 best seen and known.
Have travelled in the great shower58 of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.
Can you eat roots and drink cold water? No.
I am sure you have. Speak truth: you’re honest men.
Came not my friend nor I.
70 Best in all Athens. Thou’rt, indeed, the best:
Thou counterfeit’st most lively.71
Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth74
75 That thou75 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 monstrous78 in you, neither wish I
You take much pains to mend.
To make it known to us.
That mightily deceives you.
90 Know his gross patchery,90 love him, feed him,
Keep91 in your bosom: yet remain assured
That he’s a made-up92 villain.
Rid me these villains from your companies:
Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,97
Confound98 them by some course, and come to me,
I’ll give you gold enough.
Each man apart, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
If where thou104 art two villains shall not be,
105 Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside
But where one villain is, then him abandon. Throws stones at them
Hence, pack!107 There’s gold: you came for gold, ye slaves.
You have work for me; there’s payment. Hence! To Painter
You are an alchemist,109 make gold of that. To Poet
110 Out, rascal dogs! Timon retires to his cave
Exeunt [Poet and Painter]
Enter Steward and two Senators
For he is set112 so only to himself
That nothing but himself which looks like man
Is friendly with him.
It is our part116 and promise to th’Athenians
To speak with Timon.
Men are not still119 the same: ’twas time and griefs
120 That framed120 him thus: time with his fairer hand,
Offering the fortunes of his former days,
The122 former man may make him. Bring us to him,
And chance123 it as it may.
125 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.
Enter Timon out of his cave
130 For each true word a blister, and each false
Be as a cantherizing131 to the root o’th’tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!
Could I but catch it for them.
What139 we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
140 The senators with one consent140 of love
Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought
On special dignities142 which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.143
145 Toward thee forgetfulness too general gross;145
Which now the public body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter,147 feeling in itself
A lack of Timon’s aid, hath sense withal148
Of it own fall, restraining149 aid to Timon,
150 And send forth us to make their sorrowed150 render,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh152 down by the dram:
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
155 And write in thee155 the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.
Surprise158 me to the very brink of tears;
Lend me a fool’s heart and a woman’s eyes,
160 And I’ll beweep160 these comforts, worthy senators.
And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allowed164 with absolute power and thy good name
165 Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
Of166 Alcibiades th’approaches wild,
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country’s peace.
170 Against the walls of Athens.
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon:
175 That Timon cares not. But if he sack175 fair Athens,
And take our goodly agèd men by th’beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain177
Of contumelious,178 beastly, mad-brained war,
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
180 In pity of our agèd and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him that I care not.
And let him take’t at worst,182 for their knives care not
While you have throats to answer.183 For myself,
There’s not a whittle184 in th’unruly camp
185 But I do prize185 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.188
It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness
Of health and living now begins to mend,
And nothing193 brings me all things. Go, live still,
Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
195 And last195 so long enough.
One that rejoices in the common wreck
As common bruit199 doth put it.
In their applauding gates.
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 throes208
That nature’s fragile vessel209 doth sustain
210 In life’s uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
I’ll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades’ wrath.
That mine own use214 invites me to cut down,
215 And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree216
From high to low throughout, that whoso please217
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,218
Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe,
220 And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion223
Upon the beachèd verge224 of the salt flood,
225 Who225 once a day with his embossèd froth
The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,
And let my gravestone be your oracle.227
Lips, let four words go by and language end.
What is amiss, plague and infection mend.
230 Graves only be men’s works, and death their gain.
Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign. Into his cave
Exit Timon
Coupled to nature.233
235 And strain235 what other means is left unto us
In our dear236 peril.
Exeunt
Enter two other Senators with a Messenger
As full as thy report?
Besides, his4 expedition promises
5 Present approach.
Whom, though in8 general part we were opposed,
Yet our old love made a particular9 force
10 And made us speak like friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timon’s cave
With letters of entreaty which imported12
His fellowship13 i’th’cause against your city,
In14 part for his sake moved.
Enter the other Senators
The enemy’s drum is heard, and fearful17 scouring
Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare:
Ours is the fall,19 I fear, our foes the snare.
Exeunt
Enter a Soldier in the woods, seeking Timon
Who’s here? Speak, ho! No answer? What is this? Discovers tomb
‘Timon is dead, who hath outstretched his span.3 Reads?
Some beast read this; there4 does not live a man.’
5 Dead, sure, and this his grave. What’s on this tomb
I cannot read: the character6 I’ll take with wax.
Our captain hath in every figure7 skill,
An aged8 interpreter, though young in days.
Before proud Athens he’s set down9 by this,
10 Whose10 fall the mark of his ambition is.
Exit
Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his powers before Athens
Our terrible2 approach.
Sounds a parley
The Senators appear upon the walls [above]
Till now you have gone on and filled the time
With all licentious measure,4 making your wills
5 The scope5 of justice. Till now myself and such
As slept6 within the shadow of your power
Have wandered with our traversed arms,7 and breathed
Our sufferance vainly.8 Now the time is flush
When crouching marrow9 in the bearer strong
10 Cries of itself10 ‘No more.’ Now breathless wrong
Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
And pursy12 insolence shall break his wind
With fear and horrid flight.
15 When thy first griefs15 were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear,
We sent17 to thee to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
Above their quantity.19
Transformèd Timon to our city’s love
By humble message and by promised means:22
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common24 stroke of war.
Were not erected by their hands from whom
You have received your grief, nor are they27 such
That these great tow’rs, trophies and schools28 should fall
For private29 faults in them.
Who were the motives31 that you first went out:
Shame32 that they wanted cunning, in excess,
Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
Into our city with thy banners spread:
35 By decimation35 and a tithèd death —
If thy revenges hunger for that food36
Which nature loathes — take thou the destined tenth,
And by the hazard38 of the spotted die
Let die the spotted.39
For those that were,41 it is not square to take
On those that are,42 revenge: crimes like lands
Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
Bring in thy ranks, but leave without44 thy rage.
45 Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin
Which in the bluster46 of thy wrath must fall
With those that have offended: like a shepherd,
Approach the fold48 and cull th’infected forth,
But kill not all together.
Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile
Than hew to’t with thy sword.
Against our rampired54 gates, and they shall ope,
55 So55 thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say thou’lt enter friendly.
Or any token58 of thine honour else,
That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
60 And not as our confusion:60 all thy powers
Shall make their harbour61 in our town till we
Have sealed62 thy full desire.
Descend, and open your unchargèd ports:64
65 Those enemies of Timon’s and mine own
Whom you yourselves shall set66 out for reproof
Fall and no more; and to atone67 your fears
With68 my more noble meaning, not a man
Shall pass69 his quarter or offend the stream
70 Of regular justice in your city’s bounds
But71 shall be remedied to your public laws
At heaviest answer.72
Enter a Messenger
Entombed upon the very hem o’th’sea.
And on his gravestone this insculpture,77 which
With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
Interprets79 for my poor ignorance.
Reads the epitaph
801013‘Here lies a wretched corpse, of wretched soul bereft.
Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs81 left!
Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate:
Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay83 not here thy gait.’
These84 well express in thee thy latter spirits.
85 Though thou abhorred’st in us our human griefs,
Scornedst our brains’ flow86 and those our droplets which
From niggard87 nature fall, yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune88 weep for aye
On thy low89 grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
Is noble Timon, of whose memory90
Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
And I will use the olive92 with my sword,
Make war breed peace, make peace stint93 war, make each
Prescribe to other as each other’s leech.94
95 Let our drums strike. Drums
Exeunt
F = First Folio text of 1623
F2 = a correction introduced in the Second Folio text of 1632
F3 = a correction introduced in the Third Folio text of 1663–64
F4 = a correction introduced in the Fourth Folio text of 1685
Ed = a correction introduced by a later editor
SD = stage direction
SH = speech heading (i.e., speaker’s name)
List of parts adapted from “THE ACTORS NAMES” at end of F text
1.1.27 gum, which oozes = Ed. F = Gowne, which vses 101 hands = F2. F = hand fly = Ed. F = sit 200 SD Apemantus often spelled Apermantus in F 235 cost = F3. F = cast 303 I’ll…company. Later editors have assigned this line to FIRST LORD
1.2.0 SD Ventidius spelled Ventigius in F 28 ye’ve spelled ye’haue in F 31 ever = Ed. F = verie 37 thou’rt spelled Th’art in F 109 There = F. Sometimes emended to “Th’ear” 111 welcome = F2. F = wecome 113 SD Enter…playing placed sixteen lines earlier in F 134 SH LADY = Ed. F = Lord. 150 SD Enter Flavius placed ten lines later in F 166 SH SECOND = Ed. Not in F
2.1.7 more spelled moe in F
2.2.1 SH FLAVIUS = Ed. F = Stew. (throughout rest of F) 11 SH VARRO’S SERVANT = Ed. F = Var. 13 SH ISIDORE’S SERVANT = Ed. F = Isid. 45 broken = Ed. F = debt, broken 68 SH ALL SERVANTS = Ed. F = Al. 82 SH PAGE = F4. F = Boy. 107 sometime’t spelled sometime t’ in F 120 walk near spelled walk en eere in F 126 proposed = F2. F = propose 133 accounts spelled accompts in F 135 found = F2. F = sound. Some editors emend to summed 191 Flaminius = Ed. F = Flavius
3.2.3 SH FIRST STRANGER = Ed. F = 1 (throughout scene) 7 SH SECOND STRANGER = Ed. F = 2 (throughout scene) 20 SH LUCIUS = F2. F = Lucil. 51 sport = F. Sometimes emended to spirit 62 SH THIRD STRANGER = Ed. F = 3
3.4.1 SH FIRST SERVANT = Ed. F = man 4 SH LUCIUS’ SERVANT = Ed. F = Luci. 49 SH VARRO’S SECOND SERVANT = Ed. F = 2. Varro 90 SH HORTENSIUS = Ed. F = 1 Var. 91 VARRO’S FIRST and SECOND SERVANTS = Ed. F = 2 Var.
3.5.9 all luxurs = Ed. F = Vllorxa
3.6.22 behave = Ed. F = behooue 51 fellow = F. Sometimes emended to felon 66 Why, I = F2. F = Why 70 ’em = F2. F = him
3.7.1 SH FIRST LORD = Ed. F = 1 (F provides only numerals for the Lords’ speech headings throughout this scene) 42 SH FIRST and SECOND LORDS = Ed. F = Both 61 foes = Ed. F = Fees 62 tag = Ed. F = legge 65 SH SOME LORDS = Ed. F = Some speake 66 SH OTHER LORDS = Ed. F = Some other 70 with your = Ed. F = you with 91 SH THIRD LORD = Ed. F = 2 92 SH SECOND LORD = Ed. F = 3
4.1.13 Son = F2. F = Some 21 yet = F. Sometimes emended to let
4.2.44 does = F4. F = do
4.3.12 beggar’s = Ed. F = Brothers 13 lean = F3. F = leaue 15 say = F2. F = fay 16 grece spelled grize in F 91 tub-fast = Ed. F = Fubfast 125 window-bars = Ed. F = window Barne 141 SH PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA = Ed. F = Both 165 scolds = Ed. F = scold’st 196 thy = Ed. F = the 215 fortune = Ed. F = future 271 command = Ed. F = command’st 302 my = Ed. F = thy 370 swoon spelled swoond in F 385 son and sire = Ed. F = Sunne and fire 404 them = Ed. F = then 405 SH FIRST BANDIT = Ed. F = 1 (F provides only numerals for the Bandits’ speech headings throughout this scene) 413 SH OTHER BANDITTI = Ed. F = All. 439 villains = Ed. F = Villaine 479 grant’st = Ed. F. = grunt’st 497 wild = F. Sometimes emended to mild
5.1.4 Phrynia = Ed. F = Phrinica Timandra = F2. F = Timandylo 38 worship = Ed. F = worshipt 54 go naked, men = Ed. F = go, Naked men 111 in = F3. Not in F 123 chance = F3. F = chanc’d 148 sense = Ed. F = since 186 reverend’st spelled reuerends in F
5.2.1 SH THIRD SENATOR = Ed. F = 1 (F numbers afresh in this scene: thus the senator at line 6 is “2” and that at line 16 is “3”)
5.3.4 read = F. Sometimes emended to reared
5.4.80 corpse spelled Coarse in F