Stay, I will lend thee Mony, borrow none.
What! what all in Motion? Henceforth be no Feaft,
Whereat a Villain's not a welcome Gueft.

Burn Houfe, fink Athens, henceforth hated be

Of Timon, Man, and all Humanity.

Enter the Senators.

I Sen. How now, my Lords?

[Exit.

2 Sen. Know you the Quality of Lord Timon's Fury? 3 Sen. Pufh, did you fee my Cap?

4 Sen. I have loft my Gown.

i Sen. He's but a mad Lord, and nought but Humour fways him. He gave me a Jewel th'other Day, and now he has beat it out of my Hat.

Did you fee my Jewel?

2 Sen. Did you fee my Cap? 3 Sen. Here 'tis.

Sen. Here lyes my Gown. i Sen. Let's make no ftay. 2 Sen. Lord Timon's mad.

3 Sen. I feel't upon my Bones.

4 Sen. One Day he gives us Diamonds, next Day Stones

[Exeunt Senators.

A CT IV. SCENE I.

SCENE Without the Walls of Athens.

Tim.

Enter Timon.

ET me look back upon thee. O thou Wall,

That girdleft in thofe Wolves, dive in the Earth
And fence not Athens. Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in Children; Slaves and Fools
Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
And minifter in their fteads to general Filths.
Convert o'th' inftant green Virginity,

Do't in your Parents Eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast,
Rather than render back; out with your Knives,
And cut your trufters Throats. Bound Servants, feal;"
Large-handed Robbers your grave Masters are,

And

And Pill by Law. Maid, to thy Mafter's Bed;
Thy Mistress is o'th' Brothel. Son of fixteen,
Pluck the lin❜d Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
With it beat out his Brains. Piety and Fear,
Religion to the Gods, Peace, Juftice, Truth,
Domeftick awe, Night-reft, and Neighbourhood,
Inftruction, Manners, Myfteries and Trades,
Degrees, Obfervances, Cuftoms and Laws,
Decline to your confounding Contraries.
And yet Confufion live: Plagues incident to Men,
Your potent and infe&ious Fevers, heap
On Athens ripe for ftroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our Senators, that their Limbs may halt
As lamely as their Manners. Luft and Liberty
Creep in the Minds and Marrows of our Youth,
That 'gainst the Stream of Virtue they may ftrive,
And drown themfelves in Riot. Itches, Blains,
Sow all the Athenian Bofoms, and their Crop
Be general Leprofie: Breath infect Breath,
That their Society (as their Friendship) may
Be meerly Poifon. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But Nakedness, thou deteftable Town.

Take thou that too, with multiplying Banns:
Timon will to the Woods, where he thall find
Th'unkindeft Beaft much kinder than Mankind.
The Gods confound (hear me you good Gods all)
Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall;
And grant, as Timen grows, his Hate may grow,
To the whole Race of Mankind, high and low.
Amen.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Timon's House.

Enter Flavius with two or three Servants.

1 Ser, Hear you, Mafter Steward, where's our Mafter? Are we undone, caft off, nothing remaining?

Flav. Alack, my Fellows, what should I fay to you? Let me be recorded by the Righteous Gods,

I am as poor as you.

1. Ser. Such a Houfe broke!

So Noble a Mafter filn! all gone! and not

One

One Friend to take his Fortune by the Arm,
And go along with him.

2 Ser. As we do turn our Backs

From our Companion, thrown into his Grave,
So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes

Slink all away, leave their faife Vows with him
Like empty Purfes pick'd. And his poor felf
A dedicated Beggar to the Air,

With his Disease, of all fhun'd Poverty,

Walks like Contempt alone. More of our Fellows.
Enter other Servants.

Flav. All broken Implements of a ruin'd Houfe.
3 Ser. Yet do our Hearts wear Timon's Livery,
That fee I by our Faces; we are Fellows ftill,
Serving alike in Sorrow; Leak'd is our Bark,
And we, poor Mates, ftand on the dying Deck,
Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part
Into this Sea of Air.'

Flav. Good Fellows all.

The latest of my Wealth I'll fhare amongst you.
Where-ever we shall meet, for Timon's lake,
Let's yet be Fellows. Let's shake our heads, and fay
As 'twere a Knell unto our Master's Fortunes,
We have feen better Days. Let each take fome;
Nay put out all your Hands; not one word more,
Thus part we rich in Sorrow, parting poor.

[He gives them Mony, they Embrace, and part feveral ways.
Oh the fierce Wretchednels that Glory brings us!
Who would not with to be from Wealth exempt,
Since Riches point to Mifery and Contempt?
Who would be fo mock'd with Glory, as to live
But in a Dream of Friendship?

To have his Pomp, and all whate State compounds,
But only painted like his varnish'd Friends:

Poor honeft Lord! brought low by his own Heart,
Undone by goodness: ftrange unufual Blood,
When Man's werft Sin is, he does too much good.
Who then dares to be half fo kind again?
For Bounty that makes Gods, does ftill mar Men.
My deareft Lord, bleft to be most accurs'd,
Rich only to be wretched; thy great Fortunes

Are

Are made thy chief Afflictions. Alas, kind Lord!
He's flung in a Rage from this ungrateful Seat
Of monftrous Friends:

Nor has he to fupply his Life,
Or that which can command it:
I'll follow and enquire him out.

I'll ever ferve his Mind, with my beft will,
Whilft I have Gold, I'll be his Steward ftill.

[Exit.

Tim. O bleffed breeding Sun, draw from the Earth
Rotten Humidity: Below thy Sifter's Orb
Infect the Air. Twin'd Brothers of one Womb,
Whofe Procreation, Refidence, and Birth,
Scarce is dividant, touch them with feveral Fortunes,
The greater fcorns the leffer. Not Nature,

To whom all Sores lay Siege, can bear great Fortune
But by contempt of Nature.

Raife me this Beggar, and deny't that Lord,
The Senator fhall bear Contempt Hereditary,

The Beggar native Honour.

It is the Pafture lards the Beggar's fides,

The want that makes him lean. Who dares? who dares,
In purity of Manhood, ftand upright,
And fay, this Man's a Flatterer? If one be,
So are they all, for every grize of Fortune
Is fmooth'd by that below. The learned Pate
Ducks to the Golden Fool. All's Obloquy:
There's nothing level in our curfed Natures
But direct Villany. Therefore be abhorr'd,
All Feafts, Societies, and Throngs of Men.
His femblable, yea himfelf Timon difdains,
Deftruction phang Mankind, Earth yield me Roots,
[Digging the Earth.

Who feeks for better of thee, fawce his Pallate
With thy moft operant Poison. What is here ?
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
No Gods, I am no idle Votarift,

Roots you clear Heav'ns. Thus much of this will make

Black

Black, White; Fowl, Fair; Wrong, Right;
Bafe, Noble; Old, Young; Coward, Valiant.

Ha, you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why, this
Will lug your Priefts and Servants from your fides:
Pluck ftout Mens Pillows from below their Heads.

This yellow Slave

Will knit and break Religions, bless th' accurs'd,
Make the hoar Leprofie ador'd, place Thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench: This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widow wed again
She, whom the Spittle-Houfe, and ulcerous Sores,
Would caft the gorge at; this embalms and fpices
To th' April day again. Come, damn'd Earth,
Thou common Whore of Mankind, that puttest odds
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee
Do thy right Nature.

Ha! a Drum? Th'art quick,

[March afar off.

But yet I'll bury theeThou'lt go (ftrong Thief)
When gouty Keepers of thee cannot ftand:

Nay, ftay thou out for earnest.

Enter Alcibiades with Drum and Fife in warlike manner, and Phrinia and Timandra.

Alc. What art thou there? speak.

Tim. A Beaft, as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy Heart For fhewing me again the Eyes of Man.

Alc. What is thy Name? is Man fo hateful to thee,

That art thy felf a Man?

Tim. I am Mifanthropos, and hate Mankind.

For thy part, I do with thou wert a Dog,
That I might love thee fomething.

Alc. I know thee well:

But in thy Fortunes am unlearn'd and ftrange.

Tim. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee

I not defire to know. Follow thy Drum,

With Man's Blood paint the ground, Gules, Gules:

Religious Cannons, civil Laws are cruel,

Then what should War be? This fell Whore of thine,
Hath in her more deftruction than thy Sword,

For all her Cherubin look.

Phri. Thy Lips rot off.
VOL. V.

K

Tim.