By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus :

Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid wel

come,

To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just,
That thou turn rascal; had'st thou wealth again,
Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like
thyself;

A madman so long, now a fool: What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moss'd trees,
That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold
brook,

Candied with ice, eaudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,―
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,

Answer mere nature, bid them flatter thee;
Q! thou shalt find -

Tim.
A fool of thee: Depart.
Apem. I love thee better now than e'er I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.

Apem. Tim..

Ay.

What! a knave too?
Apem. If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never complete ;

The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.

Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.

Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath, proceeded
The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it

Freely command, thou would'st have plung'd thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The iey precepts of respect, but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;

The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell 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, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st thou hate
men?

They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?

The best, and truest: For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. Apem. Where ly'st o'nights, Timon? Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus ?

Tim.

Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

Tim. 'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!

Apem. Where would'st thou send it?

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou ne knewest, but the extremity of both ends: Wher thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mocker thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags tha knowest none, but art despised for the contrary There's a medlar for thee, eat it,

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.
Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An thou hadst hated medlers sooner, th should'st have loved thyself better now. What ma didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest es didst thou ever know beloved? Apem. Myself.

Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some men to keep a dog.

Apem. What things in the world canst the nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are t things themselves. What would'st thou do with a world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Would'st thou have thyself fall in the com fusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods gra- | thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the : would beguile thee: if thou wert the lamb, the would eat thee: if thou wert the fox, the la would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou accused by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy di

3 Tief. He has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. 2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

1 Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens: There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true. [Exeunt Thieves.

Enter FLAVIUS.

Flav. O you gods!

Is yon despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
Full of decay and failing? O monument
And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of honour has
Desperate want made!

What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends !
How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'd to love his enemies:
Grant, I may ever love, and rather woo
Those that would mischief me, than those that do!
He has caught me in his eye: I will present
My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!

Tim.

Then

I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man
About me, I; all that I kept were knaves,
To serve in meat to villains.
Flav.
The gods are witness,
Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you.
Tim. What, dost thou weep?- Come nearer :-
then I love thee,

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give,
But thorough lust, and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with
weeping!

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, To accept my grief, and, whilst this poor wealth lasts, To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward so true, so just, and now

but one;

Methinks, thou art more honest now, than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying me,
Thou might'st have sooner got another service:
For many so arrive at second masters,
Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true,
(For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure,)
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,

If not a usuring kindness; and as rich men deal gifts,

Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late; You should have fear'd false times, when you did

feast:

Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,
Care of your food and living: and, believe it,
My most honour'd lord,

For any benefit that points to me,
Either in hope, or present, I'd exchange
For this one wish, That you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich yourself.

• Tim. Look thee, 'tis so!-Thou singly honest man,
Here, take:- the gods out of my misery
Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich, and happy:
But thus condition'd; Thou shalt build from men ;
Hate all, curse all: show charity to none;
But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar: give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow
them,

Debts wither them: Be men like blasted woods, And may diseases lick up their false bloods! And so, farewell, and thrive.

Flav.

And comfort you, my master.

Tim.

O, let me stay,

If thou hat'st Curses, stay not'; fly, whilst thou'rt bless'd and free: Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. [Exeunt severa

SCENE I. Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON behind, unseen. Pain. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides.

The same. Before Timon's Cave.

Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold?

Pain. Certain Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'Tis said, he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.

Pain. Nothing else: you shall see him a palm Athens again, and flourish with the highest. There fore, 'tis not amiss, we tender our loves to hi this supposed distress of his: it will show hones in us; and is very likely to load our purposes w what they travel for, if it be a just and true rep that goes of his having.

Poet. What have you now to present unto Lin Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation enly I will promise him an excellent piece.

Poet. I must serve him so too; tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

Pam. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o'the time; it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act ; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will, or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.

Tim. Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself.

Poet. I am thinking, what I shall say I have provided for him: 'It must be a personating of himself: a satire against the softness of prosperity; with a discovery of the infinite flatteries, that follow youth and opulency.

Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. Poet. Nay, let's seek him:

Then do we sin against our own estate,

When we may profit meet, and come too late.
Pain. True;

When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
Come.

Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple,

Than where swine feed!

Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,

Rid me these villains from your companies:
Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught,

I'll give you gold enough.

Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in company:

Each man apart, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
If where thou art, two villains shall not be,

[To the Painter. Come not near him. If thou would'st not reside [To the Poet.

But where one villain is, then him abandon. Hence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye slaves :

You have done work for me, there's payment;
Hence !

You are an alchymist, make gold of that: -
Out, rascal dogs!

[Exit, beating and driving them out.

Tim.

You witch me in it; Surprize me to the very brink of tears: Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes, And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. 1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return with us, And of our Athens (thine, and ours,) to take The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name Live with authority : · -so soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades the approaches wild; Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up His country's peace.

2 Sen.

And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,
Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do
them :

I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.
2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.
Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it; Tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself:- I pray you, do my greeting.
Flav. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall
find him.

Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;
Which once a day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle.—
Lips, let sour words go by, and language end:
What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
Graves only be men's works; and death, their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign.
[Exit Tixos.

1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably

Therefore, Timon, · Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; Thus,

If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair

Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by the beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war;

2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril.

1 Sen.

It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Walls of Athens.
Enter Two Senators, and a Messenger.

1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files As full as thy report. I have spoke the least:

Mess.

Present approach.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; Whom, though in general part we were oppos'd, Yet our old love made a particular force,

And made us speak like friends: -this man was

riding

From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
With letters of entreaty, which imported