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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Part 53 out of 63

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No longer for my flatterer; he is drown'd
Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
ANTONIO. [Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he's
so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
That you resolv'd t' effect.
SEBASTIAN. [Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.
ANTONIO. [Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be to-night;
For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
SEBASTIAN. [Aside to ANTONIO] I say, to-night; no more.

Solemn and strange music; and PROSPERO on the
top, invisible. Enter several strange SHAPES,
bringing in a banquet; and dance about it with
gentle actions of salutations; and inviting the
KING, etc., to eat, they depart

ALONSO. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
GONZALO. Marvellous sweet music!
ALONSO. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
SEBASTIAN. A living drollery. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix
At this hour reigning-there.
ANTONIO. I'll believe both;
And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I'll be sworn 'tis true; travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn 'em.
GONZALO. If in Naples
I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders,
For certes these are people of the island,
Who though they are of monstrous shape yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.
PROSPERO. [Aside] Honest lord,
Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
ALONSO. I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,
Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
PROSPERO. [Aside] Praise in departing.
FRANCISCO. They vanish'd strangely.
SEBASTIAN. No matter, since
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.
Will't please you taste of what is here?
GONZALO. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers,
Dewlapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Good warrant of.
ALONSO. I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last; no matter, since I feel
The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke,
Stand to, and do as we.

Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy;
claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint
device, the banquet vanishes

ARIEL. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea
Hath caus'd to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit-you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves.
[ALONSO, SEBASTIAN etc., draw their swords]
You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate; the elements
Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted. But remember-
For that's my business to you-that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child; for which foul deed
The pow'rs, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me
Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from-
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads-is nothing but heart's sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter
the SHAPES again, and dance, with mocks and mows,
and carrying out the table

PROSPERO. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring.
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say; so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions. They now are in my pow'r;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,
And his and mine lov'd darling. Exit above
GONZALO. I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?
ALONSO. O, it is monstrous, monstrous!
Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and
I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
And with him there lie mudded. Exit
SEBASTIAN. But one fiend at a time,
I'll fight their legions o'er.
ANTONIO. I'll be thy second. Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO
GONZALO. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.
ADRIAN. Follow, I pray you. Exeunt



Before PROSPERO'S cell


PROSPERO. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends; for
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test; here, afore heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand!
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.
FERDINAND. I do believe it
Against an oracle.
PROSPERO. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition
Wort'hily purchas'd, take my daughter. But
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minist'red,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day's celebration,
When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd
Or Night kept chain'd below.
PROSPERO. Fairly spoke.
Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.
What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!


ARIEL. What would my potent master? Here I am.
PROSPERO. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
O'er whom I give thee pow'r, here to this place.
Incite them to quick motion; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art; it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
ARIEL. Presently?
PROSPERO. Ay, with a twink.
ARIEL. Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'
And breathe twice, and cry 'so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? No?
PROSPERO. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
Till thou dost hear me call.
ARIEL. Well! I conceive. Exit
PROSPERO. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw
To th' fire i' th' blood. Be more abstemious,
Or else good night your vow!
FERDINAND. I warrant you, sir,
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Now come, my Ariel, bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit; appear, and pertly.
No tongue! All eyes! Be silent. [Soft music]

Enter IRIS

IRIS. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky hard,
Where thou thyself dost air-the Queen o' th' sky,
Whose wat'ry arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport. Her peacocks fly amain.
[JUNO descends in her car]
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.


CERES. Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne'er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flow'rs
Diffusest honey drops, refreshing show'rs;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth-why hath thy Queen
Summon'd me hither to this short-grass'd green?
IRIS. A contract of true love to celebrate,
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
CERES. Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the Queen? Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
I have forsworn.
IRIS. Of her society
Be not afraid. I met her Deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are that no bed-rite shall be paid
Till Hymen's torch be lighted; but in vain.
Mars's hot minion is return'd again;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows,
And be a boy right out. [JUNO alights]
CERES. Highest Queen of State,
Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
JUNO. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be,
And honour'd in their issue. [They sing]
JUNO. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.
CERES. Earth's increase, foison plenty,
Barns and gamers never empty;
Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest,
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you,
Ceres' blessing so is on you.
FERDINAND. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
PROSPERO. Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call'd to enact
My present fancies.
FERDINAND. Let me live here ever;
So rare a wond'red father and a wise
Makes this place Paradise.
[JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment]
PROSPERO. Sweet now, silence;
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously.
There's something else to do; hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr'd.
IRIS. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wind'ring brooks,
With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command.
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.

Enter certain NYMPHS

You sun-burnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain REAPERS, properly habited; they join
with the NYMPHS in a graceful dance; towards the
end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks,
after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused
noise, they heavily vanish

PROSPERO. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life; the minute of their plot
Is almost come. [To the SPIRITS] Well done; avoid; no
FERDINAND. This is strange; your father's in some passion
That works him strongly.
MIRANDA. Never till this day
Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
PROSPERO. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell
And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk
To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND, MIRANDA. We wish your peace. Exeunt
PROSPERO. Come, with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel; come.


ARIEL. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL. Ay, my commander. When I presented 'Ceres.'
I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd
Lest I might anger thee.
PROSPERO. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor,
At which like unback'd colts they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music; so I charm'd their cars,
That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
Which ent'red their frail shins. At last I left them
I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to th' chins, that the foul lake
O'erstunk their feet.
PROSPERO. This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still.
The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither
For stale to catch these thieves.
ARIEL. I go, I go. Exit
PROSPERO. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.

Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.

Come, hang them on this line.
[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible]


CALIBAN. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall; we now are near his cell.
STEPHANO. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless
fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us.
TRINCULO. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss at which my
nose is in great indignation.
STEPHANO. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should
take a displeasure against you, look you-
TRINCULO. Thou wert but a lost monster.
CALIBAN. Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance; therefore speak softly.
All's hush'd as midnight yet.
TRINCULO. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!
STEPHANO. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in
that, monster, but an infinite loss.
TRINCULO. That's more to me than my wetting; yet this is
your harmless fairy, monster.
STEPHANO. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er
ears for my labour.
CALIBAN. Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
This is the mouth o' th' cell; no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
STEPHANO. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody
TRINCULO. O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
Look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
CALIBAN. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
TRINCULO. O, ho, monster; we know what belongs to a
frippery. O King Stephano!
STEPHANO. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll
have that gown.
TRINCULO. Thy Grace shall have it.
CALIBAN. The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean
To dote thus on such luggage? Let 't alone,
And do the murder first. If he awake,
From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches;
Make us strange stuff.
STEPHANO. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not
this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line; now,
jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald
TRINCULO. Do, do. We steal by line and level, an't like
your Grace.
STEPHANO. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment
for't. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of
this country. 'Steal by line and level' is an excellent
pass of pate; there's another garmet for't.
TRINCULO. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers,
and away with the rest.
CALIBAN. I will have none on't. We shall lose our time,
And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villainous low.
STEPHANO. Monster, lay-to your fingers; help to bear this
away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out
of my kingdom. Go to, carry this.
TRINCULO. And this.
STEPHANO. Ay, and this.

A noise of hunters beard. Enter divers SPIRITS, in
shape of dogs and hounds, bunting them about;
PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on

PROSPERO. Hey, Mountain, hey!
ARIEL. Silver! there it goes, Silver!
PROSPERO. Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! Hark, hark!
[CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO are driven out]
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews
With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
Than pard or cat o' mountain.
ARIEL. Hark, they roar.
PROSPERO. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom; for a little
Follow, and do me service. Exeunt



Before PROSPERO'S cell

Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL

PROSPERO. Now does my project gather to a head;
My charms crack not, my spirits obey; and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?
ARIEL. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
PROSPERO. I did say so,
When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the King and 's followers?
ARIEL. Confin'd together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge;
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
They cannot budge till your release. The King,
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brim full of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
Him you term'd, sir, 'the good old lord, Gonzalo';
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em
That if you now beheld them your affections
Would become tender.
PROSPERO. Dost thou think so, spirit?
ARIEL. Mine would, sir, were I human.
PROSPERO. And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick,
Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury
Do I take part; the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance; they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel;
My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
And they shall be themselves.
ARIEL. I'll fetch them, sir. Exit
PROSPERO. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid-
Weak masters though ye be-I have be-dimm'd
The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault
Set roaring war. To the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-bas'd promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck'd up
The pine and cedar. Graves at my command
Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth,
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd
Some heavenly music-which even now I do-
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book. [Solem music]

Here enters ARIEL before; then ALONSO, with
frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN
and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN
and FRANCISCO. They all enter the circle which
PROSPERO had made, and there stand charm'd; which
PROSPERO observing, speaks

A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopp'd.
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, ev'n sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir
To him thou follow'st! I will pay thy graces
Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter;
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian-
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong-
Would here have kill'd your king, I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them
That yet looks on me, or would know me. Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell; Exit ARIEL
I will discase me, and myself present
As I was sometime Milan. Quickly, spirit
Thou shalt ere long be free.

ARIEL, on returning, sings and helps to attire him

Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

PROSPERO. Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so.
To the King's ship, invisible as thou art;
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
Being awake, enforce them to this place;
And presently, I prithee.
ARIEL. I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat. Exit
GONZALO. All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement,
Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearful country!
PROSPERO. Behold, Sir King,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero.
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid
A hearty welcome.
ALONSO. Whe'er thou be'st he or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know. Thy pulse
Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me. This must crave-
An if this be at all-a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
Be living and be here?
PROSPERO. First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measur'd or confin'd.
GONZALO. Whether this be
Or be not, I'll not swear.
PROSPERO. You do yet taste
Some subtleties o' th' isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
[Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO] But you, my brace of
lords, were I so minded,
I here could pluck his Highness' frown upon you,
And justify you traitors; at this time
I will tell no tales.
SEBASTIAN. [Aside] The devil speaks in him.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault-all of them; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know
Thou must restore.
ALONSO. If thou beest Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since
Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost-
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!-
My dear son Ferdinand.
PROSPERO. I am woe for't, sir.
ALONSO. Irreparable is the loss; and patience
Says it is past her cure.
PROSPERO. I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.
ALONSO. You the like loss!
PROSPERO. As great to me as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.
ALONSO. A daughter!
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
PROSPERO. In this last tempest. I perceive these lords
At this encounter do so much admire
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
Upon this shore, where you were wrecked, was landed
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
This cell's my court; here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad; pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much as me my dukedom.

playing at chess

MIRANDA. Sweet lord, you play me false.
FERDINAND. No, my dearest love,
I would not for the world.
MIRANDA. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle
And I would call it fair play.
ALONSO. If this prove
A vision of the island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.
SEBASTIAN. A most high miracle!
FERDINAND. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
I have curs'd them without cause. [Kneels]
ALONSO. Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou cam'st here.
MIRANDA. O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
That has such people in't!
PROSPERO. 'Tis new to thee.
ALONSO. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours;
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
And brought us thus together?
FERDINAND. Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she's mine.
I chose her when I could not ask my father
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown
But never saw before; of whom I have
Receiv'd a second life; and second father
This lady makes him to me.
ALONSO. I am hers.
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!
PROSPERO. There, sir, stop;
Let us not burden our remembrances with
A heaviness that's gone.
GONZALO. I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.
ALONSO. I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
GONZALO. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Should become Kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy, and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis;
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy.
GONZALO. Be it so. Amen!

Re-enter ARIEL, with the MASTER and BOATSWAIN
amazedly following

O look, sir; look, sir! Here is more of us!
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
BOATSWAIN. The best news is that we have safely found
Our King and company; the next, our ship-
Which but three glasses since we gave out split-
Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when
We first put out to sea.
ARIEL. [Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went.
PROSPERO. [Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!
ALONSO. These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
BOATSWAIN. If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
And-how, we know not-all clapp'd under hatches;
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straightway at liberty;
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap'ring to eye her. On a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.
ARIEL. [Aside to PROSPERO] Was't well done?
PROSPERO. [Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou
shalt be free.
ALONSO. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod;
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of. Some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.
PROSPERO. Sir, my liege,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
And think of each thing well. [Aside to ARIEL] Come
hither, spirit;
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL] How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.

Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and

TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel
STEPHANO. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man
take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio,
bully-monster, coragio!
TRINCULO. If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here's a goodly sight.
CALIBAN. O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy'em?
ANTONIO. Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and no doubt marketable.
PROSPERO. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave-
His mother was a witch, and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil-
For he's a bastard one-had plotted with them
To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.
CALIBAN. I shall be pinch'd to death.
ALONSO. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
SEBASTIAN. He is drunk now; where had he wine?
ALONSO. And Trinculo is reeling ripe; where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
How cam'st thou in this pickle?
TRINCULO. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you
last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I
shall not fear fly-blowing.
SEBASTIAN. Why, how now, Stephano!
STEPHANO. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a
PROSPERO. You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah?
STEPHANO. I should have been a sore one, then.
ALONSO. [Pointing to CALIBAN] This is as strange a thing
as e'er I look'd on.
PROSPERO. He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
CALIBAN. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!
PROSPERO. Go to; away!
ALONSO. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
SEBASTIAN. Or stole it, rather.
PROSPERO. Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away-the story of my life,
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle. And in the morn
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized,
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
ALONSO. I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
PROSPERO. I'll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to ARIEL] My Ariel,
That is thy charge. Then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well!-Please you, draw near.

Spoken by PROSPERO

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint. Now 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair
Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.





by William Shakespeare


TIMON of Athens

flattering lords

VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain
APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher
FLAVIUS, steward to Timon

Timon's servants

servants to Timon's creditors


mistresses to Alcibiades

in the Masque

Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Servants, Thieves, and


Athens and the neighbouring woods

Athens. TIMON'S house

Enter POET, PAINTER, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and MERCER, at several doors

POET. Good day, sir.
PAINTER. I am glad y'are 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 conjur'd 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 fix'd.
MERCHANT. A most incomparable man; breath'd, 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 prais'd 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 slipp'd idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
From whence 'tis nourish'd. The fire i' th' flint
Shows not till it be struck: our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and like the current flies
Each bound it chafes. 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 will say of it
It tutors nature. Artificial strife
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain SENATORS, and pass over

PAINTER. How this lord is followed!
POET. The senators of Athens- happy man!
PAINTER. Look, moe!
POET. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
I have in this rough work shap'd 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 tax. No levell'd 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-fac'd 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
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o' th' 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.
PAINTER. 'Tis conceiv'd 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.
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 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.
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 TIMON, addressing himself
courteously to every suitor, a MESSENGER from
VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other
servants following

TIMON. Imprison'd 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 of
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 enfranchis'd, 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


OLD ATHENIAN. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
TIMON. Freely, good father.
OLD ATHENIAN. Thou hast a servant nam'd 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 inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd
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. 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 endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
OLD ATHENIAN. Three talents on the present; in future, all.
TIMON. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd 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!
POET. [Presenting his poem] Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your
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 pencill'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.
PAINTER. The gods preserve ye!
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 extoll'd,
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 mock'd.


MERCHANT. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.
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?
APEMANTUS. Then I repent not.
JEWELLER. You know me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS. Thou know'st I do; I call'd 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't 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. Y'are 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?
POET. Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS. Art not a poet?
POET. Yes.
APEMANTUS. Then thou liest. Look in thy last work, where thou hast
feign'd him a worthy fellow.
POET. That's not feign'd- 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?
TIMON. Wherefore?
APEMANTUS. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.- Art not thou a
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 thank'd you. When dinner's done
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest

Most welcome, sir! [They salute]
APEMANTUS. 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 sav'd 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 omit'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 govern'd man.
SECOND LORD. Long may he live in fortunes! shall we in?
FIRST LORD. I'll keep you company. Exeunt

A room of state in TIMON'S house

Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet serv'd in;
FLAVIUS and others attending; and then enter LORD TIMON, the states,
the ATHENIAN LORDS, VENTIDIUS, which TIMON redeem'd from prison.
Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself

VENTIDIUS. Most honoured Timon,
It hath pleas'd 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 deriv'd 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 devis'd 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 confess'd it.
APEMANTUS. Ho, ho, confess'd it! Hang'd it, have you not?
TIMON. O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
You shall not make me welcome.
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
TIMON. Fie, th'art a churl; ye have 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't 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. Th'art an Athenian, therefore
welcome. I myself would have no power; prithee let my meat make
thee silent.
APEMANTUS. I scorn thy meat; 't'would 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
draught, 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 windpipe'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' th' mire.
This and my food are equals; there's no odds.'
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.


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!
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 dinner of
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 wish'd 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 mov'd me much.
APEMANTUS. Much! [Sound tucket]
TIMON. What means that trump?


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.

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. Th' Ear,
Taste, Touch, Smell, pleas'd 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. Exit CUPID
FIRST LORD. You see, my lord, how ample y'are belov'd.

Music. Re-enter CUPID, witb 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 mad women.
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 friends' 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 single out an
Amazon, and all dance, men witb 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 entertain'd 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.
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 cross'd 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!

Re-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.


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 vour honour, Lord Lucius, out of his
free love, hath presented to you four milk-white horses, trapp'd
in silver.
TIMON. I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents
Be worthily entertain'd. Exit SERVANT

Enter a third SERVANT

How now! What news?
THIRD SERVANT. 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.
TIMON. I'll hunt with him; and let them be receiv'd,
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 ev'ry 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 forc'd 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 lik'd 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 pitch'd field.
ALCIBIADES. Ay, defil'd land, my lord.
FIRST LORD. We are so virtuously bound-
TIMON. And so am I to you.
SECOND LORD. So infinitely endear'd-
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 brib'd 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 vain-glories?
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.
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



Enter A SENATOR, with papers in his hand

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 moe
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!


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 ceas'd
With slight denial, nor then silenc'd 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 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,
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 compt.
CAPHIS. I will, sir.
SENATOR. Go. Exeunt

Before TIMON'S house

Enter FLAVIUS, TIMON'S Steward, 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!


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?
CAPHIS. Would we were all discharg'd!
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 awak'd 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
CAPHIS. If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-
VARRO'S SERVANT. 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and
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.
[To FLAVIUS] Come hither. Pray you,
How goes the world that I am thus encount'red
With clamorous demands of date-broke 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 entertain'd. Exit
FLAVIUS. Pray draw near. Exit


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; th'art not on him yet.
CAPHIS. Where's the fool now?
APEMANTUS. He last ask'd the question. Poor rogues and usurers'
men! Bawds between gold and want!
ALL SERVANTS. What are we, Apemantus?
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
PAGE. Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these
letters; I know not which is which.
APEMANTUS. Canst not read?
APEMANTUS. There will little learning die, then, that day thou art
hang'd. This is to Lord Timon; this to Alcibiades. Go; thou wast
born a bastard, and thou't die a bawd.
PAGE. Thou wast whelp'd a dog, and thou shalt famish dog's death.
Answer not: I am gone. Exit PAGE
APEMANTUS. E'en so thou outrun'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 serv'd us!
APEMANTUS. So would I- as good a trick as ever hangman serv'd
FOOL. Are you three usurers' men?
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' 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 moe 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.

Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS

APEMANTUS. Come with me, fool, come.
FOOL. I do not always follow lover, elder brother, and woman;
sometime the philosopher.
FLAVIUS. Pray you walk near; I'll speak with you anon.
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 propos'd.
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, pray'd 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 lov'd 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 engag'd, 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 reck'ning?
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 oppress'd
With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy,
I have retir'd 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 Lord 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 show'rs,
These flies are couch'd.
TIMON. Come, sermon me no further.
No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd 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 crown'd
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!


SERVANTS. My lord! my lord!
TIMON. I will dispatch you severally- you to Lord Lucius; to Lord
Lucullus you; I hunted with his honour to-day. 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
Deserv'd 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 wish'd- 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 cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey dull and heavy.
Go to Ventidius. Prithee be not sad,
Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak,
No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately
Buried his father, by whose death he's stepp'd
Into a great estate. When he was poor,
Imprison'd, and in scarcity of friends,
I clear'd him with five talents. Greet him from me,
Bid him suppose some good necessity
Touches his friend, which craves to be rememb'red
With those five talents. That had, give't these fellows
To whom 'tis instant due. Nev'r speak or think
That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.
FLAVIUS. I would I could not think it.
That thought is bounty's foe;
Being free itself, it thinks all others so. Exeunt



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