We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry.

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR.

2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.

1 Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.

Enter another Watchman, with FRIAR LAURENCE. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and We took this mattock and'this spade from him, [weeps; As he was coming from this churchyard side.

1 Watch. A great suspicion: stay the friar too. Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? La. Cap. The people in the street cry Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument.

Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd.

[comes.

Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs.

[man;

Cap. O heavens!-0 wife! look how our daughter This dagger hath mista'en-for lo! his house [bleeds! Is empty on the back of Montague,And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.

La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others.

Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down.

Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.

Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave?

Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,

And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.-
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself accused.

Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce,
To county Paris:-Then comes she to me;

And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,

Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion; which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come, as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease,
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back. Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But, when I came, (some minute ere the time
Of her awakening,) here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,
Unto the 11gour of severest law.

Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?

Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
To this same place, to this same monument.
And then in post he came from Mantua,
This letter he early bid me give his father;
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not, and left him there.

Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:

Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb;
And, by and by, my master drew on him;
And then I ran away to call the watch.

Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
And here he writes, that he did buy a poison
Of a poor 'pothecary; and therewithal
Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.-
Where be these enemies?-Capulet! Montague!-
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen:-all are punish'd.
Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand:
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.

Mon. But I can give thee more:

For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
That, while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;

Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings,
The sun for sorrow will not shew his head:

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe,
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

[Exeunt

ACT I.

SCENE I.-ATHENS. A Hall in TIMON's House. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors.

Poet. Good day, Sir.

Pain. I am glad you are well.

Poet. I have not seen you long; how goes the world? Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known:

But what particular rarity? what strange,
Which manifold record not matches? Sec,
Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power
Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.
Pain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller.
Mer. O. 'tis a worthy lord!

Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.

Mer. A most incomparable man; breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes.

Jew. I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray, let's see 't; for the lord Timon, Sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for thatPoet. [Reciting to himself.] "When we for recompense have praised the vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse

Which aptly sings the good.”

Mer. Looking at the jewel.] 'Tis a good form.
Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you.

Pain. You are rapt, Sir, in some work, some dedica.

To the great lord.

[tion

But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet. I'll unbolt to you.

You see how all conditions, how all minds
(As well of glib and slippery 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.

Pain. I saw them speak together.

Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount Is rank'd 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 fix'd, 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.

Pain. 'Tis conceived to scope.

This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount

To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
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.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. Pain. 'Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can shew,

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To shew lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.

Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him.

Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?

Ven. Serv. 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 to him,
Periods his comfort.

Tim. 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. Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him.

Tim. The man is honest.

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:

His honesty rewards him in itself;

It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does she love him?

Old Ath. She is young, and apt:

Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid?

Luc. Ay, my good lord; and she accepts of it.

Old Ath. 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.

Tim. How shall she be endow'd,

If she be mated with an equal husband?

Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. 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 Ath. Most noble lord,

Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. 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. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lord

ship!

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.

The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: these pencil'd 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.

Pain. The gods preserve you!

Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my lord? dispraise?

Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.

If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd,

It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My lord, 'tis rated

Mer. He'll spare none.

Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

Apem. Are they not Athenians?
Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus.

Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon.

Tim. Whither art going?

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That's a deed thou 'lt die for.

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

Apem. The best for the innocence.

Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it?

Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain. You are a dog.

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; what's she, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apem. No; I eat not lords."

Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'dst anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy labour. Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.

Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How now, poet? Poet. How now, philosopher?

Apem. Thou liest.

Poet. Art not one?

Apem. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not.

Apem. Art not a poet?

Poet. Yes.

And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey.

Alcib. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight.

Tim. 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.

1 Lord. What time o' day is 't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest.

1 Lord. That time serves still.

Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, LUCIUS, LUCULLUS, SEMPRONIUS, and other Athenian Senators, with VENTIDIUS, and Attendants. Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly.

Ven. Most honour'd Timon, 't hath pleased the gods 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.

Tim. 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.
Ven. A noble spirit!

[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON. Tim. Nay, my lords, ceremony

Was but devised at first to set a gloss
On faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shewn;

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.

1 Lord. My lord, we have always confess'd ít.
Apem. Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?
Tim. O Apemantus!-you are welcome.
Apem. No,

You shall not make me welcome:

I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

Tim. Fie, thou art a churl; you have got a humour Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.- [there They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est; But yond' man's ever angry.

Go, let him have a table by himself;

For he does neither affect company,

Nor is he fit for it, indeed.

Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, Timon:

I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent.

Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I Ne'er flatter thee.-Ö you gods, what a number [should Of men eat Timon, and he sees them 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, and pledges
The breath of him in a divided draught,

Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been proved.
If I

Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;

Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
Tim. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
2 Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Apem. Flow this way!

A brave fellow!-he keeps his tides well.-Timon,
Those healths will make thee and thy state look ill.
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.

[Eats and drinks. Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. Alcib. My heart is ever at your service, my lord. Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies, than a dinner of friends.

Alcib. So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat like them; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

Apem. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.

1 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.

Tim. 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 you not 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 never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we e'er have use for them; 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, e'en made away ere it can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to forget their faults, I drink to you.

Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up.

Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. 3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. Apem. Much! [Tucket sounded.

Tim. What means that trump?-How now?

Like madness is the glory of this life,

Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

As this pomp shews to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men,
Upon whose age we void it up again,

With poisonous spite and envy. Who lives, that's not
Depraved or depraves? who dies, that bears

Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift?
I should fear, those that dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: it has been done;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and, to shew their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease.

Flav. My lord?

Tim. The little casket bring me hither.

Flav. Yes, my lord. [Aside.] More jewels yet! There is no crossing him in his humour; Else I should tell him well, i' faith, I should: When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could. 'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. [Exit, and returns with the casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men?
Serv. Here, my lord, in readiness.

2 Lord. Our horses!

Tim. O my friends, I have one word

To say to you:-look you, my good lord, I must
Entreat you, honour me so much, as to
Advance this jewel;

Accept and wear it, kind my lord.

1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,All. So are we all.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate Newly alighted, and come to visit you.

Tim. They are fairly welcome.

Flav. I beseech your honour,

Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.

Tim. Near? why then another time I'll hear thee:

I pr'ythee, let us be provided

To shew them entertainment.

Flav. [Aside.] I scarce know how.

Enter another Servant.

2 Serv. May it please your honour, the lord Lucius, Out of his free love, hath presented to you Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. Tim. I shall accept them fairly: let the presents Enter a third Servant.

Be worthily entertain'd.-How now! what news? 3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him; and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.

Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, Not without fair reward.

Flav. [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 shew 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 as do even enemies exceed.

I bleed inwardly for my lord.

Tim. You do yourselves

[Exit.

Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:

2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive 3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! [it Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you gave Good words the other day of a bay courser

I rode on it is yours, because you liked it.

2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. Tim. 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 on you.

All Lords. None so welcome.

Tim. 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 pitch'd field.

Alcib. Ay, defiled land, my lord.

1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound,—

Tim. And so

Am I to you.

2 Lord. So infinitely endear'd,

Tim. All to you.-Lights, more lights!

1 Lord. The best of happiness,

Honour and fortunes, keep with you, lord Timon!
Tim. Ready for his friends.

[Exeunt ALCIBIADES, Lords, de

Apem. 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 court'sies.
Tim. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I'd be good to thee.

Apem. 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 need these feasts, pomps, and vain-glories?

Tim. Nay,

SCENE L.-ATHENS.

ACT II.

[Exit.

A Room in a Senator's House.

Enter a Senator, with papers in his hand. Sen. 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 found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! Caphis, I say!

Enter CAPHIS,

Caph. Here, Sir; what is your pleasure?

Sen. 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, sirrah, 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 toss'd and turn'd 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,