THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS
by William Shakespeare
Contents
ACT I
Scene I. Athens. A hall in Timon’s house
Scene II. The Same. A room of state in Timon’s house
ACT II
Scene I. Athens. A room in a senator’s house
Scene II. The same. A hall in Timon’s house
ACT III
Scene I. Athens. A room in Lucullus’ house
Scene II. A public place
Scene III. The same. A room in Sempronius’ house
Scene IV. A hall in Timon’s house
Scene V. The same. The senate house
Scene VI. A room of state in Timon’s house
ACT IV
Scene I. Without the walls of Athens
Scene II. Athens. A room in Timon’s house
Scene III. Woods and caves near the sea-shore
ACT V
Scene I. The woods. Before Timon’s cave
Scene III. The same
Scene III. Before the walls of Athens
Scene IV. The woods. Timon’s cave, and a rude tomb seen
Scene V. Before the walls of Athens
Dramatis Personæ
TIMON, a noble Athenian
FLAVIUS, steward to Timon
FLAMINIUS, servant to Timon
LUCILIUS, servant to Timon
SERVILIUS, servant to Timon
APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain
PHRYNIA, mistress to Alcibiades
TIMANDRA, mistress to Alcibiades
LUCIUS, friend of Timon
LUCULLUS, friend of Timon
SEMPRONIUS, friend of Timon
VENTIDIUS, friend of Timon
CAPHIS, servant of Timon’s creditors
SERVANT of Isidore
Two SERVANTS of Varro
TITUS, servant of Timon’s creditors
HORTENSIUS, servant of Timon’s creditors
LUCIUS, servant of Timon’s creditors
PHILOTUS, servant of Timon’s creditors
LORDS and SENATORS of Athens
Three STRANGERS, one called HOSTILIUS
An OLD ATHENIAN
POET
PAINTER
JEWELLER
MERCHANT
A FOOL
A PAGE
CUPID and Amazons in the Masque
BANDITTI
Officers, Soldiers, Servants, Thieves, Messengers and Attendants
SCENE. Athens, and the neighbouring woods
ACT I
SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon’s house
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller and Merchant at several doors.
POET.
Good day, sir.
PAINTER.
I am glad you’re well.
POET.
I have not seen you long. How goes the world?
PAINTER.
It wears, sir, as it grows.
POET.
Ay, that’s well known.
But what particular rarity? What strange,
Which manifold record not matches? See,
Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power
Hath conjured to attend! I know the merchant.
PAINTER.
I know them both. Th’ other’s a jeweller.
MERCHANT.
O, ’tis a worthy lord!
JEWELLER.
Nay, that’s most fixed.
MERCHANT.
A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,
To an untirable and continuate goodness.
He passes.
JEWELLER.
I have a jewel here—
MERCHANT.
O, pray let’s see’t. For the Lord Timon, sir?
JEWELLER.
If he will touch the estimate. But for that—
POET.
When we for recompense have praised the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.
MERCHANT.
[_Looking at the jewel_.]
’Tis a good form.
JEWELLER.
And rich. Here is a water, look ye.
PAINTER.
You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
To the great lord.
POET.
A thing slipped idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum which oozes
From whence ’tis nourished. The fire i’ th’ flint
Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself and, like the current, flies
Each bound it chases. What have you there?
PAINTER.
A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
POET.
Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let’s see your piece.
PAINTER.
’Tis a good piece.
POET.
So ’tis. This comes off well and excellent.
PAINTER.
Indifferent.
POET.
Admirable! How this grace
Speaks his own standing! What a mental power
This eye shoots forth! How big imagination
Moves in this lip! To th’ dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.
PAINTER.
It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch. Is’t good?
POET.
I’ll say of it,
It tutors nature. Artificial strife
Lives in these touches livelier than life.
Enter certain Senators, who pass over the stage.
PAINTER.
How this lord is followed!
POET.
The senators of Athens, happy men!
PAINTER.
Look, more!
POET.
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
I have in this rough work shaped out a man
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment. My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax. No levelled malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.
PAINTER.
How shall I understand you?
POET.
I will unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and slipp’ry creatures as
Of grave and austere quality, tender down
Their services to Lord Timon. His large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself; even he drops down
The knee before him and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon’s nod.
PAINTER.
I saw them speak together.
POET.
Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill
Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o’ th’ mount
Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states. Amongst them all
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed,
One do I personate of Lord Timon’s frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.
PAINTER.
’Tis conceived to scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckoned from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well expressed
In our condition.
POET.
Nay, sir, but hear me on.
All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink the free air.
PAINTER.
Ay, marry, what of these?
POET.
When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants,
Which laboured after him to the mountain’s top
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.
PAINTER.
’Tis common.
A thousand moral paintings I can show
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune’s
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.
Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himself courteously to
every suitor. He is accompanied by a Messenger; Lucilius and other
servants follow.
TIMON.
Imprisoned is he, say you?
MESSENGER.
Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt,
His means most short, his creditors most strait.
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up, which, failing,
Periods his comfort.
TIMON.
Noble Ventidius. Well,
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he must need me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have. I’ll pay the debt and free him.
MESSENGER.
Your lordship ever binds him.
TIMON.
Commend me to him, I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me.
’Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.
MESSENGER.
All happiness to your honour.
[_Exit._]
Enter an Old Athenian.
OLD ATHENIAN.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.
TIMON.
Freely, good father.
OLD ATHENIAN.
Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
TIMON.
I have so. What of him?
OLD ATHENIAN.
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
TIMON.
Attends he here or no? Lucilius!
LUCILIUS.
Here, at your lordship’s service.
OLD ATHENIAN.
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.
TIMON.
Well, what further?
OLD ATHENIAN.
One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got.
The maid is fair, o’ th’ youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.
TIMON.
The man is honest.
OLD ATHENIAN.
Therefore he will be, Timon.
His honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.
TIMON.
Does she love him?
OLD ATHENIAN.
She is young and apt.
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity’s in youth.
TIMON.
[_To Lucilius_.] Love you the maid?
LUCILIUS.
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
OLD ATHENIAN.
If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world
And dispossess her all.
TIMON.
How shall she be endowed,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
OLD ATHENIAN.
Three talents on the present; in future, all.
TIMON.
This gentleman of mine hath served me long.
To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For ’tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter.
What you bestow, in him I’ll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.
OLD ATHENIAN.
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
TIMON.
My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
LUCILIUS.
Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping
Which is not owed to you.
[_Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian._]
POET.
[_Presenting his poem_.]
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship.
TIMON.
I thank you, you shall hear from me anon.
Go not away.—What have you there, my friend?
PAINTER.
A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
TIMON.
Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man,
For since dishonour traffics with man’s nature,
He is but outside; these pencilled figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work,
And you shall find I like it. Wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.
PAINTER.
The gods preserve you.
TIMON.
Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand.
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffered under praise.
JEWELLER.
What, my lord, dispraise?
TIMON.
A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for ’t as ’tis extolled,
It would unclew me quite.
JEWELLER.
My lord, ’tis rated
As those which sell would give. But you well know
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are prized by their masters. Believe’t, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
TIMON.
Well mocked.
MERCHANT.
No, my good lord, he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.
Enter Apemantus.
TIMON.
Look who comes here. Will you be chid?
JEWELLER.
We’ll bear, with your lordship.
MERCHANT.
He’ll spare none.
TIMON.
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.
Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow—
When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
TIMON.
Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know’st them not.
APEMANTUS.
Are they not Athenians?
TIMON.
Yes.
APEMANTUS.
Then I repent not.
JEWELLER.
You know me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Thou know’st I do, I called thee by thy name.
TIMON.
Thou art proud, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.
Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
TIMON.
Whither art going?
APEMANTUS.
To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.
TIMON.
That’s a deed thou’lt die for.
APEMANTUS.
Right, if doing nothing be death by th’ law.
TIMON.
How lik’st thou this picture, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
The best, for the innocence.
TIMON.
Wrought he not well that painted it?
APEMANTUS.
He wrought better that made the painter, and yet he’s but a filthy
piece of work.
PAINTER.
You’re a dog.
APEMANTUS.
Thy mother’s of my generation. What’s she, if I be a dog?
TIMON.
Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
No, I eat not lords.
TIMON.
An thou shouldst, thou’dst anger ladies.
APEMANTUS.
O, they eat lords. So they come by great bellies.
TIMON.
That’s a lascivious apprehension.
APEMANTUS.
So thou apprehend’st it, take it for thy labour.
TIMON.
How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.
TIMON.
What dost thou think ’tis worth?
APEMANTUS.
Not worth my thinking. How now, poet?
POET.
How now, philosopher?
APEMANTUS.
Thou liest.
POET.
Art not one?
APEMANTUS.
Yes.
POET.
Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS.
Art not a poet?
POET.
Yes.
APEMANTUS.
Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a
worthy fellow.
POET.
That’s not feigned, he is so.
APEMANTUS.
Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that
loves to be flattered is worthy o’ th’ flatterer. Heavens, that I were
a lord!
TIMON.
What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
E’en as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart.
TIMON.
What, thyself?
APEMANTUS.
Ay.
TIMON.
Wherefore?
APEMANTUS.
That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant?
MERCHANT.
Ay, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.
Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not.
MERCHANT.
If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS.
Traffic’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
TIMON.
What trumpet’s that?
MESSENGER.
’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
TIMON.
Pray entertain them, give them guide to us.
[_Exeunt some Attendants._]
You must needs dine with me. Go not you hence
Till I have thanked you; when dinner’s done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
Enter Alcibiades with his company.
Most welcome, sir.
[_They bow to each other._]
APEMANTUS.
[_Aside_.] So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love amongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
ALCIBIADES.
Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.
TIMON.
Right welcome, sir!
Ere we depart we’ll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
[_Exeunt all but Apemantus._]
Enter two Lords.
FIRST LORD.
What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Time to be honest.
FIRST LORD.
That time serves still.
APEMANTUS.
The more accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.
SECOND LORD.
Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?
APEMANTUS.
Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.
SECOND LORD.
Fare thee well, fare thee well.
APEMANTUS.
Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
SECOND LORD.
Why, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.
FIRST LORD.
Hang thyself!
APEMANTUS.
No, I will do nothing at thy bidding. Make thy requests to thy friend.
SECOND LORD.
Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence.
APEMANTUS.
I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’ th’ ass.
[_Exit._]
FIRST LORD.
He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in
And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? He outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
SECOND LORD.
He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward. No meed but he repays
Sevenfold above itself, no gift to him
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.
FIRST LORD.
The noblest mind he carries
That ever governed man.
SECOND LORD.
Long may he live in fortunes. Shall we in?
FIRST LORD.
I’ll keep you company.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. The Same. A room of state in Timon’s house
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in, Flavius and
others attending; and then enter Lord Timon, the Senators, the
Athenian Lords, Alcibiades, and Ventidius, which Timon redeemded from
prison. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like
himself.
VENTIDIUS.
Most honoured Timon,
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father’s age
And call him to long peace.
He is gone happy and has left me rich.
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.
TIMON.
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love.
I gave it freely ever, and there’s none
Can truly say he gives if he receives.
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.
VENTIDIUS.
A noble spirit!
TIMON.
Nay, my lords, ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown;
But where there is true friendship there needs none.
Pray, sit, more welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me.
[_They sit._]
FIRST LORD.
My lord, we always have confessed it.
APEMANTUS.
Ho, ho, confessed it? Hanged it, have you not?
TIMON.
O Apemantus, you are welcome.
APEMANTUS.
No,
You shall not make me welcome.
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
TIMON.
Fie, thou’rt a churl, ye’ve got a humour there
Does not become a man; ’tis much to blame.
They say, my lords, _ira furor brevis est_,
But yond man is ever angry.
Go, let him have a table by himself,
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for it indeed.
APEMANTUS.
Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon.
I come to observe; I give thee warning on’t.
TIMON.
I take no heed of thee. Thou’rt an Athenian, therefore, welcome. I
myself would have no power; prithee; let my meat make thee silent.
APEMANTUS.
I scorn thy meat, ’twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O
you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ’em not! It
grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one man’s blood; and all
the madness is, he cheers them up too.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
Methinks they should invite them without knives.
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There’s much example for ’t. The fellow that sits next him, now parts
bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draft, is the
readiest man to kill him. ’T has been proved. If I were a huge man, I
should fear to drink at meals,
Lest they should spy my wind-pipe’s dangerous notes.
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
TIMON.
My lord, in heart, and let the health go round.
SECOND LORD.
Let it flow this way, my good lord.
APEMANTUS.
Flow this way? A brave fellow! He keeps his tides well. Those healths
will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon.
Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner,
Honest water, which ne’er left man i’ the mire.
This and my food are equals, there’s no odds.
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
_Apemantus’ grace_
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf,
I pray for no man but myself.
Grant I may never prove so fond
To trust man on his oath or bond,
Or a harlot for her weeping,
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedom,
Or my friends if I should need ’em.
Amen. So fall to’t.
Rich men sin, and I eat root.
[_He eats and drinks._]
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!
TIMON.
Captain Alcibiades, your heart’s in the field now.
ALCIBIADES.
My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
TIMON.
You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a dinner of friends.
ALCIBIADES.
So they were bleeding new, my lord, there’s no meat like ’em. I could
wish my best friend at such a feast.
APEMANTUS.
Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that then thou
mightst kill ’em, and bid me to ’em.
FIRST LORD.
Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our
hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should
think ourselves for ever perfect.
TIMON.
O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided
that I shall have much help from you. How had you been my friends else?
Why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly
belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can with
modesty speak in your own behalf. And thus far I confirm you. O you
gods, think I, what need we have any friends if we should ne’er have
need of ’em? They were the most needless creatures living, should we
ne’er have use for ’em, and would most resemble sweet instruments hung
up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often
wished myself poorer that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do
benefits, and what better or properer can we call our own than the
riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort ’tis to have so many,
like brothers, commanding one another’s fortunes. O joy’s e’en made
away ere’t can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To
forget their faults, I drink to you.
APEMANTUS.
Thou weep’st to make them drink, Timon.
SECOND LORD.
Joy had the like conception in our eyes
And, at that instant like a babe sprung up.
APEMANTUS.
Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
THIRD LORD.
I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
APEMANTUS.
Much!
[_A tucket sounds._]
TIMON.
What means that trump?
Enter a Servant.
How now?
SERVANT.
Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of
admittance.
TIMON.
Ladies? What are their wills?
SERVANT.
There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office,
to signify their pleasures.
TIMON.
I pray, let them be admitted.
[_Exit Servant._]
Enter Cupid.
CUPID.
Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
That of his bounties taste! The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. There
Taste, touch, all, pleased from thy table rise;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
TIMON.
They’re welcome all, let ’em have kind admittance.
Music, make their welcome!
FIRST LORD.
You see, my lord, how ample you’re beloved.
Music. Enter a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands,
dancing and playing.
APEMANTUS.
Hoy-day!
What a sweep of vanity comes this way.
They dance? They are madwomen.
Like madness is the glory of this life,
As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.
Who lives that’s not depraved or depraves?
Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friend’s gift?
I should fear those that dance before me now
Would one day stamp upon me. ’T has been done.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
[_The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of Timon, and to show
their loves each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women,
a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease._]
TIMON.
You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind.
You have added worth unto ’t and lustre,
And entertained me with mine own device.
I am to thank you for ’t.
FIRST LADY.
My lord, you take us even at the best.
APEMANTUS.
Faith, for the worst is filthy and would not hold taking, I doubt me.
TIMON.
Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
Please you to dispose yourselves.
ALL LADIES.
Most thankfully, my lord.
[_Exeunt Cupid and Ladies._]
TIMON.
Flavius!
FLAVIUS.
My lord?
TIMON.
The little casket bring me hither.
FLAVIUS.
Yes, my lord. [_Aside_.] More jewels yet?
There is no crossing him in ’s humour;
Else I should tell him well, i’ faith, I should,
When all’s spent, he’d be crossed then, an he could.
’Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
That man might ne’er be wretched for his mind.
[_Exit._]
FIRST LORD.
Where be our men?
SERVANT.
Here, my lord, in readiness.
SECOND LORD.
Our horses!
Enter Flavius with the casket.
TIMON.
O, my friends, I have one word
To say to you. Look you, my good lord,
I must entreat you, honour me so much
As to advance this jewel. Accept it and wear it,
Kind my lord.
FIRST LORD.
I am so far already in your gifts—
ALL.
So are we all.
Enter a Servant.
SERVANT.
My lord, there are certain nobles of the Senate
Newly alighted and come to visit you.
TIMON.
They are fairly welcome.
[_Exit Servant._]
FLAVIUS.
I beseech your honour,
Vouchsafe me a word. It does concern you near.
TIMON.
Near? Why then, another time I’ll hear thee.
I prithee let’s be provided to show them entertainment.
FLAVIUS.
[_Aside_.] I scarce know how.
Enter another Servant.
SECOND SERVANT.
May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapped in silver.
TIMON.
I shall accept them fairly; let the presents
Be worthily entertained.
[_Exit Servant._]
Enter a third Servant.
How now? What news?
THIRD SERVANT.
Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats
your company tomorrow to hunt with him and has sent your honour two
brace of greyhounds.
TIMON.
I’ll hunt with him; and let them be received,
Not without fair reward.
[_Exit Servant._]
FLAVIUS.
[_Aside_.] What will this come to?
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer;
Nor will he know his purse or yield me this:
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good.
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
For every word. He is so kind that he now
Pays interest for ’t; his land’s put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out.
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such that do e’en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.
[_Exit._]
TIMON.
You do yourselves much wrong,
You bate too much of your own merits.
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
SECOND LORD.
With more than common thanks I will receive it.
THIRD LORD.
O, he’s the very soul of bounty!
TIMON.
And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other day of a bay
courser I rode on. ’Tis yours because you liked it.
THIRD LORD.
O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.
TIMON.
You may take my word, my lord. I know no man
Can justly praise but what he does affect.
I weigh my friend’s affection with mine own.
I’ll tell you true, I’ll call to you.
ALL LORDS.
O, none so welcome!
TIMON.
I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart, ’tis not enough to give;
Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne’er be weary. Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
It comes in charity to thee, for all thy living
Is ’mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitched field.
ALCIBIADES.
Ay, defiled land, my lord.
FIRST LORD.
We are so virtuously bound—
TIMON.
And so am I to you.
SECOND LORD.
So infinitely endeared—
TIMON.
All to you. Lights, more lights!
FIRST LORD.
The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes keep with you, Lord Timon.
TIMON.
Ready for his friends.
[_Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon._]
APEMANTUS.
What a coil’s here!
Serving of becks and jutting out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for ’em. Friendship’s full of dregs.
Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs.
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtsies.
TIMON.
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I would be good to thee.
APEMANTUS.
No, I’ll nothing, for if I should be bribed too, there would be none
left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou
giv’st so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in paper
shortly. What needs these feasts, pomps, and vainglories?
TIMON.
Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to give
regard to you. Farewell, and come with better music.
[_Exit._]
APEMANTUS.
So. Thou wilt not hear me now, thou shalt not then.
I’ll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men’s ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
[_Exit._]
ACT II
SCENE I. Athens. A room in a senator’s house
Enter a Senator with papers.
SENATOR.
And late five thousand. To Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum,
Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste! It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar’s dog
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon—
Ask nothing, give it him—it foals me straight,
And able horses. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!
Enter Caphis.
CAPHIS.
Here, sir, what is your pleasure?
SENATOR.
Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon.
Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
With slight denial, nor then silenced when
“Commend me to your master”, and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus; but tell him,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own, his days and times are past,
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit. I love and honour him,
But must not break my back to heal his finger.
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be tossed and turned to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone.
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand, for I do fear
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
CAPHIS.
I go, sir.
SENATOR.
Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in. Come.
CAPHIS.
I will, sir.
SENATOR.
Go.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon’s house
Enter Flavius with many bills in his hand.
FLAVIUS.
No care, no stop, so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it
Nor cease his flow of riot. Takes no account
How things go from him, nor resumes no care
Of what is to continue. Never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? He will not hear till feel.
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!
Enter Caphis and the Servants of Isidore and Varro.
CAPHIS.
Good even, Varro. What, you come for money?
VARRO’S SERVANT.
Is’t not your business too?
CAPHIS.
It is. And yours too, Isidore?
ISIDORE’S SERVANT.
It is so.
CAPHIS.
Would we were all discharged!
VARRO’S SERVANT.
I fear it.
CAPHIS.
Here comes the lord.
Enter Timon and his train with Alcibiades
TIMON.
So soon as dinner’s done, we’ll forth again,
My Alcibiades. With me? What is your will?
CAPHIS.
My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
TIMON.
Dues? Whence are you?
CAPHIS.
Of Athens here, my lord.
TIMON.
Go to my steward.
CAPHIS.
Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days this month.
My master is awaked by great occasion
To call upon his own and humbly prays you
That with your other noble parts you’ll suit
In giving him his right.
TIMON.
Mine honest friend,
I prithee but repair to me next morning.
CAPHIS.
Nay, good my lord—
TIMON.
Contain thyself, good friend.
VARRO’S SERVANT.
One Varro’s servant, my good lord—
ISIDORE’S SERVANT.
From Isidore. He humbly prays your speedy payment.
CAPHIS.
If you did know, my lord, my master’s wants—
VARRO’S SERVANT.
’Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT.
Your steward puts me off, my lord, and I
Am sent expressly to your lordship.
TIMON.
Give me breath.
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on,
I’ll wait upon you instantly.
[_Exeunt Alcibiades and Timon’s train._]
[_To Flavius_.] Come hither. Pray you,
How goes the world, that I am thus encountered
With clamorous demands of debt, broken bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts
Against my honour?
FLAVIUS.
Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business.
Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.
TIMON.
Do so, my friends.
See them well entertained.
[_Exit._]
FLAVIUS.
Pray, draw near.
[_Exit._]
Enter Apemantus and Fool.
CAPHIS.
Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus.
Let’s ha’ some sport with ’em.
VARRO’S SERVANT.
Hang him, he’ll abuse us.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT.
A plague upon him, dog!
VARRO’S SERVANT.
How dost, fool?
APEMANTUS.
Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
VARRO’S SERVANT.
I speak not to thee.
APEMANTUS.
No, ’tis to thyself.
[_To the Fool_.] Come away.
ISIDORE’S SERVANT.
[_To Varro’s servant_.] There’s the fool hangs on your back already.
APEMANTUS.
No, thou stand’st single; thou’rt not on him yet.
CAPHIS.
Where’s the fool now?
APEMANTUS.
He last asked the question. Poor rogues and usurers’ men, bawds between
gold and want.
ALL SERVANTS.
What are we, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Asses.
ALL SERVANTS.
Why?
APEMANTUS.
That you ask me what you are, and do not know yourselves. Speak to ’em,
fool.
FOOL.
How do you, gentlemen?
ALL SERVANTS.
Gramercies, good fool. How does your mistress?
FOOL.
She’s e’en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. Would we
could see you at Corinth!
APEMANTUS.
Good, gramercy.
Enter Page.
FOOL.
Look you, here comes my mistress’ page.
PAGE.
[_To the Fool_.] Why, how now, captain? What do you in this wise
company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS.
Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably.
PAGE.
Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these letters. I know
not which is which.
APEMANTUS.
Canst not read?
PAGE.
No.
APEMANTUS.
There will little learning die, then, that day thou art hanged. This is
to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go, thou wast born a bastard, and
thou’lt die a bawd.
PAGE.
Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a dog’s death. Answer
not; I am gone.
[_Exit Page._]
APEMANTUS.
E’en so thou outrunn’st grace. Fool, I will go with you to Lord
Timon’s.
FOOL.
Will you leave me there?
APEMANTUS.
If Timon stay at home.—You three serve three usurers?
ALL SERVANTS.
Ay, would they served us!
APEMANTUS.
So would I—as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.
FOOL.
Are you three usurers’ men?
ALL SERVANTS.
Ay, fool.
FOOL.
I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant. My mistress is one,
and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your masters, they
approach sadly and go away merry, but they enter my mistress’s house
merrily and go away sadly. The reason of this?
VARRO’S SERVANT.
I could render one.
APEMANTUS.
Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a knave, which
notwithstanding, thou shalt be no less esteemed.
VARRO’S SERVANT.
What is a whoremaster, fool?
FOOL.
A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. ’Tis a spirit;
sometime ’t appears like a lord, sometime like a lawyer, sometime like
a philosopher, with two stones more than’s artificial one. He is very
often like a knight; and generally, in all shapes that man goes up and
down in from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in.
VARRO’S SERVANT.
Thou art not altogether a fool.
FOOL.
Nor thou altogether a wise man. As much foolery as I have, so much wit
thou lack’st.
APEMANTUS.
That answer might have become Apemantus.
VARRO’S SERVANT.
Aside, aside, here comes Lord Timon.
Enter Timon and Flavius.
APEMANTUS.
Come with me, fool, come.
FOOL.
I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman; sometime the
philosopher.
[_Exeunt Apemantus and Fool._]
FLAVIUS.
Pray you walk near. I’ll speak with you anon.
[_Exeunt Servants._]
TIMON.
You make me marvel wherefore ere this time
Had you not fully laid my state before me,
That I might so have rated my expense
As I had leave of means.
FLAVIUS.
You would not hear me,
At many leisures I proposed.
TIMON.
Go to.
Perchance some single vantages you took
When my indisposition put you back,
And that unaptness made your minister
Thus to excuse yourself.
FLAVIUS.
O my good lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off
And say you found them in mine honesty.
When for some trifling present you have bid me
Return so much, I have shook my head and wept,
Yea, ’gainst th’ authority of manners, prayed you
To hold your hand more close. I did endure
Not seldom nor no slight checks, when I have
Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
Though you hear now, too late, yet now’s a time.
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.
TIMON.
Let all my land be sold.
FLAVIUS.
’Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone,
And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues; the future comes apace.
What shall defend the interim? And at length
How goes our reckoning?
TIMON.
To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
FLAVIUS.
O my good lord, the world is but a word;
Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone!
TIMON.
You tell me true.
FLAVIUS.
If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,
Call me before th’ exactest auditors
And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
When all our offices have been oppressed
With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
Hath blazed with lights and brayed with minstrelsy,
I have retired me to a wasteful cock
And set mine eyes at flow.
TIMON.
Prithee, no more.
FLAVIUS.
Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!
How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
This night englutted? Who is not Timon’s?
What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord Timon’s?
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!
Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made.
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
These flies are couched.
TIMON.
Come, sermon me no further.
No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack
To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart.
If I would broach the vessels of my love
And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,
Men and men’s fortunes could I frankly use
As I can bid thee speak.
FLAVIUS.
Assurance bless your thoughts!
TIMON.
And in some sort these wants of mine are crowned,
That I account them blessings. For by these
Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you
Mistake my fortunes. I am wealthy in my friends.
Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!
Enter Flaminius, Servilius and a third Servant.
SERVANTS.
My lord, my lord.
TIMON.
I will dispatch you severally. [_To Servilius_.] You to Lord Lucius;
[_To Flaminius_.] to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his honour today;
[_To the third Servant_.] you to Sempronius. Commend me to their loves;
and I am proud, say, that my occasions have found time to use ’em
toward a supply of money. Let the request be fifty talents.
FLAMINIUS.
As you have said, my lord.
[_Exeunt Servants._]
FLAVIUS.
[_Aside_.] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh!
TIMON.
Go you, sir, to the senators,
Of whom, even to the state’s best health, I have
Deserved this hearing, Bid ’em send o’ th’ instant
A thousand talents to me.
FLAVIUS.
I have been bold—
For that I knew it the most general way—
To them to use your signet and your name,
But they do shake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.
TIMON.
Is’t true? Can’t be?
FLAVIUS.
They answer in a joint and corporate voice
That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
Do what they would, are sorry. You are honourable,
But yet they could have wished—they know not—
Something hath been amiss—a noble nature
May catch a wrench—would all were well—’tis pity.
And so, intending other serious matters,
After distasteful looks and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods
They froze me into silence.
TIMON.
You gods, reward them!
Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary.
Their blood is caked, ’tis cold, it seldom flows;
’Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
Is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
Go to Ventidius. Prithee, be not sad,
Thou art true and honest, ingenuously I speak,
No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately
Buried his father, by whose death he’s stepped
Into a great estate. When he was poor,
Imprisoned and in scarcity of friends,
I cleared him with five talents. Greet him from me,
Bid him suppose some good necessity
Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered
With those five talents. That had, give’t these fellows
To whom ’tis instant due. Ne’er speak, or think
That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.
[_Exit._]
FLAVIUS.
I would I could not think it.
That thought is bounty’s foe;
Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
[_Exit._]
ACT III
SCENE I. Athens. A room in Lucullus’ house
Flaminius waiting to speak with Lucullus from his master.
Enter a Servant to him.
SERVANT.
I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.
FLAMINIUS.
I thank you, sir.
Enter Lucullus.
SERVANT.
Here’s my lord.
LUCULLUS.
[_Aside_.] One of Lord Timon’s men? A gift, I warrant. Why, this hits
right. I dreamt of a silver basin and ewer tonight.—Flaminius, honest
Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome, sir. Fill me some wine.
[_Exit Servant._]
And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted gentleman of
Athens, thy very bountiful good lord and master?
FLAMINIUS.
His health is well, sir.
LUCULLUS.
I am right glad that his health is well, sir. And what hast thou there
under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
FLAMINIUS.
Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir, which in my lord’s behalf I come
to entreat your honour to supply; who, having great and instant
occasion to use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to furnish
him, nothing doubting your present assistance therein.
LUCULLUS.
La, la, la, la! Nothing doubting, says he? Alas, good lord! A noble
gentleman ’tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and
often I ha’ dined with him, and told him on’t, and come again to supper
to him of purpose to have him spend less, and yet he would embrace no
counsel, take no warning by my coming. Every man has his fault, and
honesty is his. I ha’ told him on’t, but I could ne’er get him from ’t.
Enter Servant with wine.
SERVANT.
Please your lordship, here is the wine.
LUCULLUS.
Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here’s to thee.
FLAMINIUS.
Your lordship speaks your pleasure.
LUCULLUS.
I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit, give thee thy
due, and one that knows what belongs to reason, and canst use the time
well, if the time use thee well. Good parts in thee. [_To Servant_.]
Get you gone, sirrah.—
[_Exit Servant._]
Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord’s a bountiful gentleman, but
thou art wise and thou know’st well enough, although thou com’st to me,
that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship
without security. Here’s three solidares for thee. Good boy, wink at
me, and say thou saw’st me not. Fare thee well.
FLAMINIUS.
Is’t possible the world should so much differ,
And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness,
To him that worships thee.
[_Throws the money back._]
LUCULLUS.
Ha! Now I see thou art a fool and fit for thy master.
[_Exit._]
FLAMINIUS.
May these add to the number that may scald thee!
Let molten coin be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!
Has friendship such a faint and milky heart
It turns in less than two nights? O you gods,
I feel my master’s passion. This slave
Unto his honour has my lord’s meat in him.
Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment
When he is turned to poison?
O, may diseases only work upon’t,
And when he’s sick to death, let not that part of nature
Which my lord paid for be of any power
To expel sickness, but prolong his hour.
[_Exit._]