The Life of Timon of Athens by William Shakespeare

*** Scanner’s Notes: What this is and isn’t. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare’s first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text. The elongated S’s have been changed to small s’s and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the
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  • 1623
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Scanner’s Notes: What this is and isn’t. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare’s first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S’s have been changed to small s’s and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare’s First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo’s and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don’t like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer’s habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn’t thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions’ best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel free to email me those errors. I wish to make this the best etext possible. My email address for right now are haradda@aol.com and davidr@inconnect.com. I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed
The Life of Timon of Athens

Enter Poet, Painter, Ieweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at seuerall doores.

Poet. Good day Sir

Pain. I am glad y’are well

Poet. I haue not seene you long, how goes the World?
Pain. It weares sir, as it growes

Poet. I that’s well knowne:
But what particular Rarity? What strange, Which manifold record not matches: see
Magicke of Bounty, all these spirits thy power Hath coniur’d to attend.
I know the Merchant

Pain. I know them both: th’ others a Ieweller

Mer. O ’tis a worthy Lord

Iew. Nay that’s most fixt

Mer. A most incomparable man, breath’d as it were, To an vntyreable and continuate goodnesse: He passes

Iew. I haue a Iewell heere

Mer. O pray let’s see’t. For the Lord Timon, sir? Iewel. If he will touch the estimate. But for that- Poet. When we for recompence haue prais’d the vild, It staines the glory in that happy Verse, Which aptly sings the good

Mer. ‘Tis a good forme

Iewel. And rich: heere is a Water looke ye

Pain. You are rapt sir, in some worke, some Dedication to the great Lord

Poet. A thing slipt idlely from me. Our Poesie is as a Gowne, which vses
From whence ’tis nourisht: the fire i’th’ Flint Shewes not, till it be strooke: our gentle flame Prouokes it selfe, and like the currant flyes Each bound it chases. What haue you there? Pain. A Picture sir: when comes your Booke forth? Poet. Vpon the heeles of my presentment sir. Let’s see your peece

Pain. ‘Tis a good Peece

Poet. So ’tis, this comes off well, and excellent

Pain. Indifferent

Poet. Admirable: How this grace
Speakes his owne standing: what a mentall power This eye shootes forth? How bigge imagination Moues in this Lip, to th’ dumbnesse of the gesture, One might interpret

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life: Heere is a touch: Is’t good?
Poet. I will say of it,
It Tutors Nature, Artificiall strife Liues in these toutches, liuelier then life. Enter certaine Senators.

Pain. How this Lord is followed

Poet. The Senators of Athens, happy men

Pain. Looke moe

Po. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors, I haue in this rough worke, shap’d out a man Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge With amplest entertainment: My free drift Halts not particularly, but moues it selfe In a wide Sea of wax, no leuell’d malice Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an Eagle flight, bold, and forth on, Leauing no Tract behinde

Pain. How shall I vnderstand you?
Poet. I will vnboult to you.
You see how all Conditions, how all Mindes, As well of glib and slipp’ry Creatures, as Of Graue and austere qualitie, tender downe Their seruices to Lord Timon: his large Fortune, Vpon his good and gracious Nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his loue and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glasse-fac’d Flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loues better Then to abhorre himselfe; euen hee drops downe The knee before him, and returnes in peace Most rich in Timons nod

Pain. I saw them speake together

Poet. Sir, I haue vpon a high and pleasant hill Feign’d Fortune to be thron’d.
The Base o’th’ Mount
Is rank’d with all deserts, all kinde of Natures That labour on the bosome of this Sphere, To propagate their states; among’st them all, Whose eyes are on this Soueraigne Lady fixt, One do I personate of Lord Timons frame, Whom Fortune with her Iuory hand wafts to her, Whose present grace, to present slaues and seruants Translates his Riuals

Pain. ‘Tis conceyu’d, to scope
This Throne, this Fortune, and this Hill me thinkes With one man becken’d from the rest below, Bowing his head against the sleepy Mount To climbe his happinesse, would be well exprest In our Condition

Poet. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
All those which were his Fellowes but of late, Some better then his valew; on the moment Follow his strides, his Lobbies fill with tendance, Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare, Make Sacred euen his styrrop, and through him Drinke the free Ayre

Pain. I marry, what of these?
Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurnes downe her late beloued; all his Dependants Which labour’d after him to the Mountaines top, Euen on their knees and hand, let him sit downe, Not one accompanying his declining foot

Pain. Tis common:
A thousand morall Paintings I can shew, That shall demonstrate these quicke blowes of Fortunes, More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well, To shew Lord Timon, that meane eyes haue seene The foot aboue the head.
Trumpets sound.

Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously to euery Sutor.

Tim. Imprison’d is he, say you?
Mes. I my good Lord, fiue Talents is his debt, His meanes most short, his Creditors most straite: Your Honourable Letter he desires
To those haue shut him vp, which failing, Periods his comfort

Tim. Noble Ventidius, well:
I am not of that Feather, to shake off My Friend when he must neede me. I do know him A Gentleman, that well deserues a helpe, Which he shall haue. Ile pay the debt, and free him

Mes. Your Lordship euer bindes him

Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransome, And being enfranchized bid him come to me; ‘Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble vp,
But to support him after. Fare you well

Mes. All happinesse to your Honor.
Enter.

Enter an old Athenian.

Oldm. Lord Timon, heare me speake

Tim. Freely good Father

Oldm. Thou hast a Seruant nam’d Lucilius

Tim. I haue so: What of him?
Oldm. Most Noble Timon, call the man before thee

Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucillius

Luc. Heere at your Lordships seruice

Oldm. This Fellow heere, L[ord]. Timon, this thy Creature, By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first haue beene inclin’d to thrift, And my estate deserues an Heyre more rais’d, Then one which holds a Trencher

Tim. Well: what further?
Old. One onely Daughter haue I, no Kin else, On whom I may conferre what I haue got:
The Maid is faire, a’th’ youngest for a Bride, And I haue bred her at my deerest cost
In Qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her loue: I prythee (Noble Lord) Ioyne with me to forbid him her resort,
My selfe haue spoke in vaine

Tim. The man is honest

Oldm. Therefore he will be Timon,
His honesty rewards him in it selfe, It must not beare my Daughter

Tim. Does she loue him?
Oldm. She is yong and apt:
Our owne precedent passions do instruct vs What leuities in youth

Tim. Loue you the Maid?
Luc. I my good Lord, and she accepts of it

Oldm. If in her Marriage my consent be missing, I call the Gods to witnesse, I will choose Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world, And dispossesse her all

Tim. How shall she be endowed,
If she be mated with an equall Husband? Oldm. Three Talents on the present; in future, all

Tim. This Gentleman of mine
Hath seru’d me long:
To build his Fortune, I will straine a little, For ’tis a Bond in men. Giue him thy Daughter, What you bestow, in him Ile counterpoize, And make him weigh with her

Oldm. Most Noble Lord,
Pawne me to this your Honour, she is his

Tim. My hand to thee,
Mine Honour on my promise

Luc. Humbly I thanke your Lordship, neuer may That state or Fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you.

Exit

Poet. Vouchsafe my Labour,
And long liue your Lordship

Tim. I thanke you, you shall heare from me anon: Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend? Pain. A peece of Painting, which I do beseech Your Lordship to accept

Tim. Painting is welcome.
The Painting is almost the Naturall man: For since Dishonor Traffickes with mans Nature, He is but out-side: These Pensil’d Figures are Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke, And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance Till you heare further from me

Pain. The Gods preserue ye

Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand. We must needs dine together: sir your Iewell Hath suffered vnder praise

Iewel. What my Lord, dispraise?
Tim. A meere saciety of Commendations, If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extold, It would vnclew me quite

Iewel. My Lord, ’tis rated
As those which sell would giue: but you well know, Things of like valew differing in the Owners, Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu’t deere Lord, You mend the Iewell by the wearing it

Tim. Well mock’d.
Enter Apermantus.

Mer. No my good Lord, he speakes y common toong Which all men speake with him

Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid? Iewel. Wee’l beare with your Lordship

Mer. Hee’l spare none

Tim. Good morrow to thee,
Gentle Apermantus

Ape. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow. When thou art Timons dogge, and these Knaues honest

Tim. Why dost thou call them Knaues, thou know’st them not?
Ape. Are they not Athenians?
Tim. Yes

Ape. Then I repent not

Iew. You know me, Apemantus?
Ape. Thou know’st I do, I call’d thee by thy name

Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus?
Ape. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon Tim. Whether art going?
Ape. To knocke out an honest Athenians braines

Tim. That’s a deed thou’t dye for

Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th’ Law

Tim. How lik’st thou this picture Apemantus? Ape. The best, for the innocence

Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it

Ape. He wrought better that made the Painter, and yet he’s but a filthy peece of worke

Pain. Y’are a Dogge

Ape. Thy Mothers of my generation: what’s she, if I be a Dogge?
Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus?
Ape. No: I eate not Lords

Tim. And thou should’st, thoud’st anger Ladies

Ape. O they eate Lords;
So they come by great bellies

Tim. That’s a lasciuious apprehension

Ape. So, thou apprehend’st it,
Take it for thy labour

Tim. How dost thou like this Iewell, Apemantus? Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which wil not cast a man a Doit

Tim. What dost thou thinke ’tis worth? Ape. Not worth my thinking.
How now Poet?
Poet. How now Philosopher?
Ape. Thou lyest

Poet. Art not one?
Ape. Yes

Poet. Then I lye not

Ape. Art not a Poet?
Poet. Yes

Ape. Then thou lyest:
Looke in thy last worke, where thou hast feign’d him a worthy Fellow

Poet. That’s not feign’d, he is so

Ape. Yes he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loues to be flattered, is worthy o’th flatterer. Heauens, that I were a Lord

Tim. What wouldst do then Apemantus? Ape. E’ne as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with my heart

Tim. What thy selfe?
Ape. I

Tim. Wherefore?
Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord. Art not thou a Merchant?
Mer. I Apemantus

Ape. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not

Mer. If Trafficke do it, the Gods do it

Ape. Traffickes thy God, & thy God confound thee.

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.

Tim. What Trumpets that?
Mes. ‘Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty Horse All of Companionship

Tim. Pray entertaine them, giue them guide to vs. You must needs dine with me: go not you hence Till I haue thankt you: when dinners done Shew me this peece, I am ioyfull of your sights. Enter Alcibiades with the rest.

Most welcome Sir

Ape. So, so; their Aches contract, and sterue your supple ioynts: that there should bee small loue amongest these sweet Knaues, and all this Curtesie. The straine of mans bred out into Baboon and Monkey

Alc. Sir, you haue sau’d my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight

Tim. Right welcome Sir:
Ere we depart, wee’l share a bounteous time In different pleasures.
Pray you let vs in.

Exeunt.

Enter two Lords.

1.Lord What time a day is’t Apemantus? Ape. Time to be honest

1 That time serues still

Ape. The most accursed thou that still omitst it

2 Thou art going to Lord Timons Feast

Ape. I, to see meate fill Knaues, and Wine heat fooles

2 Farthee well, farthee well

Ape. Thou art a Foole to bid me farewell twice

2 Why Apemantus?
Ape. Should’st haue kept one to thy selfe, for I meane to giue thee none

1 Hang thy selfe

Ape. No I will do nothing at thy bidding: Make thy requests to thy Friend

2 Away vnpeaceable Dogge,
Or Ile spurne thee hence

Ape. I will flye like a dogge, the heeles a’th’ Asse

1 Hee’s opposite to humanity.
Come shall we in,
And taste Lord Timons bountie: he out-goes The verie heart of kindnesse

2 He powres it out: Plutus the God of Gold Is but his Steward: no meede but he repayes Seuen-fold aboue it selfe: No guift to him, But breeds the giuer a returne: exceeding All vse of quittance

1 The Noblest minde he carries,
That euer gouern’d man

2 Long may he liue in Fortunes. Shall we in? Ile keepe you Company.

Exeunt.

Hoboyes Playing lowd Musicke. A great Banquet seru’d in: and then, Enter
Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which Timon redeem’d
from prison. Then comes dropping after all Apemantus discontentedly like
himselfe.

Ventig. Most honoured Timon,
It hath pleas’d the Gods to remember my Fathers age, And call him to long peace:
He is gone happy, and has left me rich: Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound
To your free heart, I do returne those Talents Doubled with thankes and seruice, from whose helpe I deriu’d libertie

Tim. O by no meanes,
Honest Ventigius: You mistake my loue, I gaue it freely euer, and ther’s none
Can truely say he giues, if he receiues: If our betters play at that game, we must not dare To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire

Vint. A Noble spirit

Tim. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but deuis’d at first To set a glosse on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodnesse, sorry ere ’tis showne: But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes, Then my Fortunes to me

1.Lord. My Lord, we alwaies haue confest it

Aper. Ho ho, confest it? Handg’d it? Haue you not? Timo. O Apermantus, you are welcome

Aper. No: You shall not make me welcome: I come to haue thee thrust me out of doores

Tim. Fie, th’art a churle, ye’haue got a humour there Does not become a man, ’tis much too blame: They say my Lords, Ira furor breuis est, But yond man is verie angrie.
Go, let him haue a Table by himselfe: For he does neither affect companie,
Nor is he fit for’t indeed

Aper. Let me stay at thine apperill Timon, I come to obserue, I giue thee warning on’t

Tim. I take no heede of thee: Th’art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I my selfe would haue no power, prythee let my meate make thee silent

Aper. I scorne thy meate, ‘twould choake me: for I should nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ’em not? It greeues me to see so many dip there meate in one mans blood, and all the madnesse is, he cheeres them vp too. I wonder men dare trust themselues with men. Me thinks they should enuite them without kniues, Good for there meate, and safer for their liues. There’s much example for’t, the fellow that sits next him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a diuided draught: is the readiest man to kill him. ‘Tas beene proued, if I were a huge man I should feare to drinke at meales, least they should spie my wind-pipes dangerous noates, great men should drinke with harnesse on their throates

Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round

2.Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord

Aper. Flow this way? A braue fellow. He keepes his tides well, those healths will make thee and thy state looke ill, Timon.
Heere’s that which is too weake to be a sinner, Honest water, which nere left man i’th’ mire: This and my food are equals, there’s no ods, Feasts are to proud to giue thanks to the Gods.

Apermantus Grace.

Immortall Gods, I craue no pelfe,
I pray for no man but my selfe,
Graunt I may neuer proue so fond,
To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
Or a Harlot for her weeping,
Or a Dogge that seemes asleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedome,
Or my friends if I should need ’em. Amen. So fall too’t:
Richmen sin, and I eat root.
Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus Tim. Captaine,
Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now

Alci. My heart is euer at your seruice, my Lord

Tim. You had rather be at a breakefast of Enemies, then a dinner of Friends

Alc. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there’s no meat like ’em, I could wish my best friend at such a Feast

Aper. Would all those Flatterers were thine Enemies then, that then thou might’st kill ’em: & bid me to ’em

1.Lord. Might we but haue that happinesse my Lord, that you would once vse our hearts, whereby we might expresse some part of our zeales, we should thinke our selues for euer perfect

Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods themselues haue prouided that I shall haue much helpe from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why haue you that charitable title from thousands? Did not you chiefely belong to my heart? I haue told more of you to my selfe, then you can with modestie speake in your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh you Gods (thinke I,) what need we haue any Friends; if we should nere haue need of ’em? They were the most needlesse Creatures liuing; should we nere haue vse for ’em? And would most resemble sweete Instruments hung vp in Cases, that keepes there sounds to themselues. Why I haue often wisht my selfe poorer, that I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do benefits. And what better or properer can we call our owne, then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a pretious comfort ’tis, to haue so many like Brothers commanding one anothers Fortunes. Oh ioyes, e’ne made away er’t can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks to forget their Faults. I drinke to you

Aper. Thou weep’st to make them drinke, Timon

2.Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eies, And at that instant, like a babe sprung vp

Aper. Ho, ho: I laugh to thinke that babe a bastard

3.Lord. I promise you my Lord you mou’d me much

Aper. Much.

Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with Lutes in their hands,
dauncing and playing.

Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now? Enter Seruant.

Ser. Please you my Lord, there are certaine Ladies Most desirous of admittance

Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?
Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord, which beares that office, to signifie their pleasures

Tim. I pray let them be admitted.
Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.

Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of his Bounties taste: the fiue best Sences acknowledge thee their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious bosome.
There tast, touch all, pleas’d from thy Table rise: They onely now come but to Feast thine eies

Timo. They’r welcome all, let ’em haue kind admittance. Musicke make their welcome

Luc. You see my Lord, how ample y’are belou’d

Aper. Hoyday,
What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way. They daunce? They are madwomen,
Like Madnesse is the glory of this life, As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote. We make our selues Fooles, to disport our selues, And spend our Flatteries, to drinke those men, Vpon whose Age we voyde it vp agen
With poysonous Spight and Enuy.
Who liues, that’s not depraued, or depraues; Who dyes, that beares not one spurne to their graues Of their Friends guift:
I should feare, those that dance before me now, Would one day stampe vpon me: ‘Tas bene done, Men shut their doores against a setting Sunne.

The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and to shew their
loues, each single out an Amazon, and all Dance, men with women, a loftie
straine or two to the Hoboyes, and cease.

Tim. You haue done our pleasures
Much grace (faire Ladies)
Set a faire fashion on our entertainment, Which was not halfe so beautifull, and kinde: You haue added worth vntoo’t, and luster, And entertain’d me with mine owne deuice. I am to thanke you for’t

1 Lord. My Lord you take vs euen at the best

Aper. Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold taking, I doubt me

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you, Please you to dispose your selues

All La. Most thankfully, my Lord.

Exeunt.

Tim. Flauius

Fla. My Lord

Tim. The little Casket bring me hither

Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Iewels yet? There is no crossing him in’s humor,
Else I should tell him well, yfaith I should; When all’s spent, hee’ld be crost then, and he could: ‘Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,
That man might ne’re be wretched for his minde. Enter.

1 Lord. Where be our men?
Ser. Heere my Lord, in readinesse

2 Lord. Our Horses

Tim. O my Friends:
I haue one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L[ord]. I must intreat you honour me so much,
As to aduance this Iewell, accept it, and weare it, Kinde my Lord

1 Lord. I am so farre already in your guifts

All. So are we all.
Enter a Seruant.

Ser. My Lord, there are certaine Nobles of the Senate newly alighted, and come to visit you

Tim. They are fairely welcome.
Enter Flauius.

Fla. I beseech your Honor, vouchsafe me a word, it does concerne you neere

Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee. I prythee let’s be prouided to shew them entertainment

Fla. I scarse know how.
Enter another Seruant.

Ser. May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius (Out of his free loue) hath presented to you Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Siluer

Tim. I shall accept them fairely: let the Presents Be worthily entertain’d.
Enter a third Seruant.

How now? What newes?
3.Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentleman Lord Lucullus, entreats your companie to morrow, to hunt with him, and ha’s sent your Honour two brace of Grey-hounds

Tim. Ile hunt with him,
And let them be receiu’d, not without faire Reward

Fla. What will this come to?
He commands vs to prouide, and giue great guifts, and all out of an empty Coffer:
Nor will he know his Purse, or yeeld me this, To shew him what a Begger his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good. His promises flye so beyond his state,
That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for eu’ry word: He is so kinde, that he now payes interest for’t; His Land’s put to their Bookes. Well, would I were Gently put out of Office, before I were forc’d out: Happier is he that has no friend to feede, Then such that do e’ne Enemies exceede.
I bleed inwardly for my Lord.

Exit

Tim. You do your selues much wrong,
You bate too much of your owne merits. Heere my Lord, a trifle of our Loue

2.Lord. With more then common thankes I will receyue it

3.Lord. O he’s the very soule of Bounty

Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gaue good words the other day of a Bay Courser I rod on. Tis yours because you lik’d it

1.L. Oh, I beseech you pardon mee, my Lord, in that

Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no man can iustly praise, but what he does affect. I weighe my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true, Ile call to you

All Lor. O none so welcome

Tim. I take all, and your seuerall visitations So kinde to heart, ’tis not enough to giue: Me thinkes, I could deale Kingdomes to my Friends, And nere be wearie. Alcibiades,
Thou art a Soldiour, therefore sildome rich, It comes in Charitie to thee: for all thy liuing Is mong’st the dead: and all the Lands thou hast Lye in a pitcht field

Alc. I, defil’d Land, my Lord

1.Lord. We are so vertuously bound

Tim. And so am I to you

2.Lord. So infinitely endeer’d

Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights

1.Lord. The best of Happines, Honor, and Fortunes Keepe with you Lord Timon

Tim. Ready for his Friends.

Exeunt. Lords

Aper. What a coiles heere, seruing of beckes, and iutting out of bummes. I doubt whether their Legges be worth the summes that are giuen for ’em. Friendships full of dregges,
Me thinkes false hearts, should neuer haue sound legges. Thus honest Fooles lay out their wealth on Curtsies

Tim. Now Apermantus (if thou wert not sullen) I would be good to thee

Aper. No, Ile nothing; for if I should be brib’d too, there would be none left to raile vpon thee, and then thou wouldst sinne the faster. Thou giu’st so long Timon (I feare me) thou wilt giue away thy selfe in paper shortly. What needs these Feasts, pompes, and Vaine-glories? Tim. Nay, and you begin to raile on Societie once, I am sworne not to giue regard to you. Farewell, & come with better Musicke.

Exit

Aper. So: Thou wilt not heare mee now, thou shalt not then. Ile locke thy heauen from thee: Oh that mens eares should be
To Counsell deafe, but not to Flatterie.

Exit

Enter a Senator.

Sen. And late fiue thousand: to Varro and to Isidore He owes nine thousand, besides my former summe, Which makes it fiue and twenty. Still in motion Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not. If I want Gold, steale but a beggers Dogge, And giue it Timon, why the Dogge coines Gold. If I would sell my Horse, and buy twenty moe Better then he; why giue my Horse to Timon. Aske nothing, giue it him, it Foles me straight And able Horses: No Porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles, and still inuites All that passe by. It cannot hold, no reason Can sound his state in safety. Caphis hoa, Caphis I say.
Enter Caphis.

Ca. Heere sir, what is your pleasure

Sen. Get on your cloake, & hast you to Lord Timon, Importune him for my Moneyes, be not ceast With slight deniall; nor then silenc’d, when Commend me to your Master, and the Cap
Playes in the right hand, thus: but tell him, My Vses cry to me; I must serue my turne Out of mine owne, his dayes and times are past, And my reliances on his fracted dates
Haue smit my credit. I loue, and honour him, But must not breake my backe, to heale his finger. Immediate are my needs, and my releefe
Must not be tost and turn’d to me in words, But finde supply immediate. Get you gone, Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand: for I do feare
When euery Feather stickes in his owne wing, Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a Phoenix, get you gone

Ca. I go sir

Sen. I go sir?
Take the Bonds along with you,
And haue the dates in. Come

Ca. I will Sir

Sen. Go.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, with many billes in his hand.

Stew. No care, no stop, so senselesse of expence, That he will neither know how to maintaine it, Nor cease his flow of Riot. Takes no accompt How things go from him, nor resume no care Of what is to continue: neuer minde,
Was to be so vnwise, to be so kinde. What shall be done, he will not heare, till feele: I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. Fye, fie, fie, fie.
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.

Cap. Good euen Varro: what, you come for money? Var. Is’t not your businesse too?
Cap. It is, and yours too, Isidore? Isid. It is so

Cap. Would we were all discharg’d

Var. I feare it,
Cap. Heere comes the Lord.
Enter Timon, and his Traine

Tim. So soone as dinners done, wee’l forth againe My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will? Cap. My Lord, heere is a note of certaine dues

Tim. Dues? whence are you?
Cap. Of Athens heere, my Lord

Tim. Go to my Steward

Cap. Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off To the succession of new dayes this moneth: My Master is awak’d by great Occasion,
To call vpon his owne, and humbly prayes you, That with your other Noble parts, you’l suite, In giuing him his right

Tim. Mine honest Friend,
I prythee but repaire to me next morning

Cap. Nay, good my Lord

Tim. Containe thy selfe, good Friend

Var. One Varroes seruant, my good Lord

Isid. From Isidore, he humbly prayes your speedy payment

Cap. If you did know my Lord, my Masters wants

Var. ‘Twas due on forfeyture my Lord, sixe weekes, and past

Isi. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I Am sent expressely to your Lordship

Tim. Giue me breath:
I do beseech you good my Lords keepe on, Ile waite vpon you instantly. Come hither: pray you How goes the world, that I am thus encountred With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds, And the detention of long since due debts Against my Honor?
Stew. Please you Gentlemen,
The time is vnagreeable to this businesse: Your importunacie cease, till after dinner, That I may make his Lordship vnderstand
Wherefore you are not paid

Tim. Do so my Friends, see them well entertain’d

Stew. Pray draw neere.
Enter.

Enter Apemantus and Foole.

Caph. Stay, stay, here comes the Foole with Apemantus, let’s ha some sport with ’em

Var. Hang him, hee’l abuse vs

Isid. A plague vpon him dogge

Var. How dost Foole?
Ape. Dost Dialogue with thy shadow? Var. I speake not to thee

Ape. No ’tis to thy selfe. Come away

Isi. There’s the Foole hangs on your backe already

Ape. No thou stand’st single, th’art not on him yet

Cap. Where’s the Foole now?
Ape. He last ask’d the question. Poore Rogues, and Vsurers men, Bauds betweene Gold and want

Al. What are we Apemantus?
Ape. Asses

All. Why?
Ape. That you ask me what you are, & do not know your selues. Speake to ’em Foole

Foole. How do you Gentlemen?
All. Gramercies good Foole:
How does your Mistris?
Foole. She’s e’ne setting on water to scal’d such Chickens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth

Ape. Good, Gramercy.
Enter Page.

Foole. Looke you, heere comes my Masters Page

Page. Why how now Captaine? what do you in this wise Company.
How dost thou Apermantus?
Ape. Would I had a Rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably

Boy. Prythee Apemantus reade me the superscription of these Letters, I know not which is which

Ape. Canst not read?
Page. No

Ape. There will litle Learning dye then that day thou art hang’d. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go thou was’t borne a Bastard, and thou’t dye a Bawd

Page. Thou was’t whelpt a Dogge, and thou shalt famish a Dogges death.
Answer not, I am gone.

Exit

Ape. E’ne so thou out-runst Grace,
Foole I will go with you to Lord Timons

Foole. Will you leaue me there?
Ape. If Timon stay at home.
You three serue three Vsurers?
All. I would they seru’d vs

Ape. So would I:
As good a tricke as euer Hangman seru’d Theefe

Foole. Are you three Vsurers men?
All. I Foole

Foole. I thinke no Vsurer, but ha’s a Foole to his Seruant. My Mistris is one, and I am her Foole: when men come to borrow of your Masters, they approach sadly, and go away merry: but they enter my Masters house merrily, and go away sadly. The reason of this? Var. I could render one

Ap. Do it then, that we may account thee a Whoremaster, and a Knaue, which notwithstanding thou shalt be no lesse esteemed

Varro. What is a Whoremaster Foole? Foole. A Foole in good cloathes, and something like thee. ‘Tis a spirit, sometime t’ appeares like a Lord, somtime like a Lawyer, sometime like a Philosopher, with two stones moe then’s artificiall one. Hee is verie often like a Knight; and generally, in all shapes that man goes vp and downe in, from fourescore to thirteen, this spirit walkes in

Var. Thou art not altogether a Foole

Foole. Nor thou altogether a Wise man, As much foolerie as I haue, so much wit thou lack’st

Ape. That answer might haue become Apemantus

All. Aside, aside, heere comes Lord Timon. Enter Timon and Steward.

Ape. Come with me (Foole) come

Foole. I do not alwayes follow Louer, elder Brother, and Woman, sometime the Philosopher

Stew. Pray you walke neere,
Ile speake with you anon.

Exeunt.

Tim. You make me meruell wherefore ere this time Had you not fully laide my state before me, That I might so haue rated my expence
As I had leaue of meanes

Stew. You would not heare me:
At many leysures I propose

Tim. Go too:
Perchance some single vantages you tooke, When my indisposition put you backe,
And that vnaptnesse made your minister Thus to excuse your selfe

Stew. O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my accompts, Laid them before you, you would throw them off, And say you sound them in mine honestie, When for some trifling present you haue bid me Returne so much, I haue shooke my head, and wept: Yea ‘gainst th’ Authoritie of manners, pray’d you To hold your hand more close: I did indure Not sildome, nor no slight checkes, when I haue Prompted you in the ebbe of your estate, And your great flow of debts; my lou’d Lord, Though you heare now (too late) yet nowes a time, The greatest of your hauing, lackes a halfe, To pay your present debts

Tim. Let all my Land be sold

Stew. ‘Tis all engag’d, some forfeyted and gone, And what remaines 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?
Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend

Stew. O my good Lord, the world is but a word, Were it all yours, to giue it in a breath, How quickely were it gone

Tim. You tell me true

Stew. If you suspect my Husbandry or Falshood, Call me before th’ exactest Auditors,
And set me on the proofe. So the Gods blesse me, When all our Offices haue beene opprest
With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults haue wept With drunken spilth of Wine; when euery roome Hath blaz’d with Lights, and braid with Minstrelsie, I haue retyr’d me to a wastefull cocke,
And set mine eyes at flow

Tim. Prythee no more

Stew. Heauens, haue I said, the bounty of this Lord: How many prodigall bits haue Slaues and Pezants This night englutted: who is not Timons, What heart, head, sword, force, meanes, but is L[ord]. Timons: Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royall Timon: Ah, when the meanes are gone, that buy this praise, The breath is gone, whereof this praise is made: Feast won, fast lost; one cloud of Winter showres, These flyes are coucht

Tim. Come sermon me no further.
No villanous bounty yet hath past my heart; Vnwisely, not ignobly haue I giuen.
Why dost thou weepe, canst thou the conscience lacke, To thinke I shall lacke friends: secure thy heart, If I would broach the vessels of my loue, And try the argument of hearts, by borrowing, Men, and mens fortunes could I frankely vse As I can bid thee speake

Ste. Assurance blesse your thoughts

Tim. And in some sort these wants of mine are crown’d, That I account them blessings. For by these Shall I trie Friends. You shall perceiue How you mistake my Fortunes:
I am wealthie in my Friends.
Within there, Flauius, Seruilius?
Enter three Seruants.

Ser. My Lord, my Lord

Tim. I will dispatch you seuerally. You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me to their loues; and I am proud say, that my occasions haue found time to vse ’em toward a supply of mony: let the request be fifty Talents

Flam. As you haue said, my Lord

Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh

Tim. Go you sir to the Senators;
Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue Deseru’d this Hearing: bid ’em send o’th’ instant A thousand Talents to me

Ste. I haue beene bold
(For that I knew it the most generall way) To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name, But they do shake their heads, and I am heere No richer in returne

Tim. Is’t true? Can’t be?
Stew. They answer in a ioynt and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want Treasure cannot Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable, But yet they could haue wisht, they know not, Something hath beene amisse; a Noble Nature May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty, And so intending other serious matters,
After distastefull lookes; and these hard Fractions With certaine halfe-caps, and cold mouing nods, They froze me into Silence

Tim. You Gods reward them:
Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary: Their blood is cak’d, ’tis cold, it sildome flowes, ‘Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde; And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth, Is fashion’d for the iourney, dull and heauy. Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad,
Thou art true, and honest; Ingeniously I speake, No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately Buried his Father, by whose death hee’s stepp’d Into a great estate: When he was poore,
Imprison’d, and in scarsitie of Friends, I cleer’d him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me, Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred With those fiue Talents; that had, giue’t these Fellowes To whom ’tis instant due. Neu’r speake, or thinke, That Timons fortunes ‘mong his Friends can sinke

Stew. I would I could not thinke it: That thought is Bounties Foe;
Being free it selfe, it thinkes all others so.

Exeunt.

Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a seruant
to him.

Ser. I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down to you

Flam. I thanke you Sir.
Enter Lucullus.

Ser. Heere’s my Lord

Luc. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant. Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie respectiuely welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how
does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and Mayster? Flam. His health is well sir

Luc. I am right glad that his health is well sir: and what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius? Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to supply: who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: nothing doubting your present assistance therein

Luc. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas good Lord, a Noble Gentleman ’tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din’d with him, and told him on’t, and come againe to supper to him of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold embrace no counsell, take no warning by my comming, euery man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on’t, but I could nere get him from’t.
Enter Seruant with Wine.

Ser. Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine

Luc. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wise. Heere’s to thee

Flam. Your Lordship speakes your pleasure

Luc. I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sirrah. Draw neerer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a bountifull Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know’st well enough (although thou com’st to me) that this is no time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe without securitie. Here’s three Solidares for thee, good Boy winke at me, and say thou saw’st mee not. Fare thee well

Flam. Is’t possible the world should so much differ, And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse To him that worships thee

Luc. Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy Master.

Exit L[ucullus].

Flam. May these adde to the number y may scald thee: Let moulten Coine be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe: Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart, It turnes in lesse then two nights? O you Gods! I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor, Has my Lords meate in him:
Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment, When he is turn’d to poyson?
O may Diseases onely worke vpon’t:
And when he’s sicke to death, let not that part of Nature Which my Lord payd for, be of any power
To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower. Enter.

Enter Lucius, with three strangers.

Luc. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend and an Honourable Gentleman

1 We know him for no lesse, thogh we are but strangers to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons happie howres are done and past, and his estate shrinkes from him

Lucius. Fye no, doe not beleeue it: hee cannot want for money

2 But beleeue you this my Lord, that not long agoe, one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow so many Talents, nay vrg’d extreamly for’t, and shewed what necessity belong’d too’t, and yet was deny’de

Luci. How?
2 I tell you, deny’de my Lord

Luci. What a strange case was that? Now before the Gods I am asham’d on’t. Denied that honourable man? There was verie little Honour shew’d in’t. For my owne part, I must needes confesse, I haue receyued some small kindnesses from him, as Money, Plate, Iewels, and such like Trifles; nothing comparing to his: yet had hee mistooke him, and sent to me, I should ne’re haue denied his Occasion so many Talents.
Enter Seruilius.

Seruil. See, by good hap yonders my Lord, I haue swet to see his Honor. My Honor’d Lord

Lucil. Seruilius? You are kindely met sir. Farthewell, commend me to thy Honourable vertuous Lord, my very exquisite Friend

Seruil. May it please your Honour, my Lord hath sent-
Luci. Ha? what ha’s he sent? I am so much endeered to that Lord; hee’s euer sending: how shall I thank him think’st thou? And what has he sent now? Seruil. Has onely sent his present Occasion now my Lord: requesting your Lordship to supply his instant vse with so many Talents

Lucil. I know his Lordship is but merry with me, He cannot want fifty fiue hundred Talents

Seruil. But in the mean time he wants lesse my Lord. If his occasion were not vertuous,
I should not vrge it halfe so faithfully

Luc. Dost thou speake seriously Seruilius? Seruil. Vpon my soule ’tis true Sir

Luci. What a wicked Beast was I to disfurnish my self against such a good time, when I might ha shewn my selfe Honourable? How vnluckily it hapned, that I shold Purchase the day before for a little part, and vndo a great deale of Honour? Seruilius, now before the Gods I am not able to do (the more beast I say) I was sending to vse Lord Timon my selfe, these Gentlemen can witnesse; but I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done’t now. Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship, and I hope his Honor will conceiue the fairest of mee, because I haue no power to be kinde. And tell him this from me, I count it one of my greatest afflictions say, that I cannot pleasure such an Honourable Gentleman. Good Seruilius, will you befriend mee so farre, as to vse mine owne words to him?
Ser. Yes sir, I shall.

Exit Seruil[ius].

Lucil. Ile looke you out a good turne Seruilius. True as you said, Timon is shrunke indeede, And he that’s once deny’de, will hardly speede. Enter.

1 Do you obserue this Hostilius?
2 I, to well

1 Why this is the worlds soule,
And iust of the same peece
Is euery Flatterers sport: who can call him his Friend That dips in the same dish? For in my knowing Timon has bin this Lords Father,
And kept his credit with his purse: Supported his estate, nay Timons money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne’re drinkes, But Timons Siluer treads vpon his Lip,
And yet, oh see the monstrousnesse of man, When he lookes out in an vngratefull shape; He does deny him (in respect of his)
What charitable men affoord to Beggers

3 Religion grones at it

1 For mine owne part, I neuer tasted Timon in my life Nor came any of his bounties ouer me,
To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest, For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue, And Honourable Carriage,
Had his necessity made vse of me,
I would haue put my wealth into Donation, And the best halfe should haue return’d to him, So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue, Men must learne now with pitty to dispence, For Policy sits aboue Conscience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another of Timons Friends.

Semp. Must he needs trouble me in’t? Hum. ‘Boue all others?
He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus, And now Ventidgius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem’d from prison. All these Owes their estates vnto him

Ser. My Lord,
They haue all bin touch’d, and found Base-Mettle, For they haue all denied him

Semp. How? Haue they deny’de him?
Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny’de him, And does he send to me? Three? Humh?
It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him. Must I be his last Refuge? His Friends (like Physitians) Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th’ Cure vpon me? Has much disgrac’d me in’t, I’me angry at him, That might haue knowne my place. I see no sense for’t, But his Occasions might haue wooed me first: For in my conscience, I was the first man That ere receiued guift from him.
And does he thinke so backwardly of me now, That Ile requite it last? No:
So it may proue an Argument of Laughter To th’ rest, and ‘mong’st Lords be thought a Foole: I’de rather then the worth of thrice the summe, Had sent to me first, but for my mindes sake: I’de such a courage to do him good. But now returne, And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne; Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.

Exit

Ser. Excellent: Your Lordships a goodly Villain: the diuell knew not what he did, when hee made man Politicke; he crossed himselfe by’t: and I cannot thinke, but in the end, the Villanies of man will set him cleere. How fairely this Lord striues to appeare foule? Takes Vertuous Copies to be wicked: like those, that vnder hotte ardent zeale, would set whole Realmes on fire, of such a nature is his politike loue.
This was my Lords best hope, now all are fled Saue onely the Gods. Now his Friends are dead, Doores that were ne’re acquainted with their Wards Many a bounteous yeere, must be imploy’d Now to guard sure their Master:
And this is all a liberall course allowes, Who cannot keepe his wealth, must keep his house. Enter.

Enter Varro’s man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to wait for his
comming out. Then enter Lucius and Hortensius.

Var.man. Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortensius Tit. The like to you kinde Varro

Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together? Luci. I, and I think one businesse do’s command vs all. For mine is money

Tit. So is theirs, and ours.
Enter Philotus.

Luci. And sir Philotus too

Phil. Good day at once

Luci. Welcome good Brother.
What do you thinke the houre?
Phil. Labouring for Nine

Luci. So much?
Phil. Is not my Lord seene yet?
Luci. Not yet

Phil. I wonder on’t, he was wont to shine at seauen

Luci. I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him: You must consider, that a Prodigall course Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare: ‘Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purse, that is: One may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little

Phil. I am of your feare, for that

Tit. Ile shew you how t’ obserue a strange euent: Your Lord sends now for Money?
Hort. Most true, he doe’s

Tit. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift, For which I waite for money

Hort. It is against my heart

Luci. Marke how strange it showes,
Timon in this, should pay more then he owes: And e’ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels, And send for money for ’em

Hort. I’me weary of this Charge,
The Gods can witnesse:
I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth, And now Ingratitude, makes it worse then stealth

Varro. Yes, mine’s three thousand Crownes: What’s yours?
Luci. Fiue thousand mine

Varro. ‘Tis much deepe, and it should seem by th’ sum Your Masters confidence was aboue mine,
Else surely his had equall’d.
Enter Flaminius.

Tit. One of Lord Timons men

Luc. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie to come forth?
Flam. No, indeed he is not

Tit. We attend his Lordship: pray signifie so much

Flam. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent. Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

Luci. Ha: is not that his Steward muffled so? He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him

Tit. Do you heare, sir?
2.Varro. By your leaue, sir

Stew. What do ye aske of me, my Friend

Tit. We waite for certaine Money heere, sir

Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting, ‘Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr’d you not your summes and Billes When your false Masters eate of my Lords meat? Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts. And take downe th’ Intrest into their glutt’nous Mawes. You do your selues but wrong, to stirre me vp, Let me passe quietly:
Beleeue’t, my Lord and I haue made an end, I haue no more to reckon, he to spend

Luci. I, but this answer will not serue

Stew. If’t ’twill not serue, ’tis not so base as you, For you serue Knaues

1.Varro. How? What does his casheer’d Worship mutter?
2.Varro. No matter what, hee’s poore, and that’s reuenge enough. Who can speake broader, then hee that has no house to put his head in? Such may rayle against great buildings.
Enter Seruilius.

Tit. Oh heere’s Seruilius: now wee shall know some answere

Seru. If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayre some other houre, I should deriue much from’t. For tak’t of my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent: His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he’s much out of health, and keepes his Chamber

Luci. Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke: And if it be so farre beyond his health, Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts, And make a cleere way to the Gods

Seruil. Good Gods

Titus. We cannot take this for answer, sir

Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord. Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my dores oppos’d against my passage? Haue I bin euer free, and must my house
Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?
The place which I haue Feasted, does it now (Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart? Luci. Put in now Titus

Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill

Luci. Here’s mine

1.Var. And mine, my Lord

2.Var. And ours, my Lord

Philo. All our Billes

Tim. Knocke me downe with ’em, cleaue mee to the Girdle

Luc. Alas, my Lord

Tim. Cut my heart in summes

Tit. Mine, fifty Talents

Tim. Tell out my blood

Luc. Fiue thousand Crownes, my Lord

Tim. Fiue thousand drops payes that. What yours? and yours?
1.Var. My Lord

2.Var. My Lord

Tim. Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.

Exit Timon.

Hort. Faith I perceiue our Masters may throwe their caps at their money, these debts may well be call’d desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em.

Exeunt.

Enter Timon.

Timon. They haue e’ene put my breath from mee the slaues. Creditors? Diuels

Stew. My deere Lord

Tim. What if it should be so?
Stew. My Lord

Tim. Ile haue it so. My Steward?
Stew. Heere my Lord

Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All, Ile once more feast the Rascals

Stew. O my Lord, you onely speake from your distracted soule; there’s not so much left to furnish out a moderate Table

Tim. Be it not in thy care:
Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tide Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.

Exeunt.

Enter three Senators at one doore, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants

1.Sen. My Lord, you haue my voyce, too’t, The faults Bloody:
‘Tis necessary he should dye:
Nothing imboldens sinne so much, as Mercy

2 Most true; the Law shall bruise ’em

Alc. Honor, health, and compassion to the Senate

1 Now Captaine

Alc. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues; For pitty is the vertue of the Law,
And none but Tyrants vse it cruelly. It pleases time and Fortune to lye heauie Vpon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath stept into the Law: which is past depth To those that (without heede) do plundge intoo’t. He is a Man (setting his Fate aside) of comely Vertues, Nor did he soyle the fact with Cowardice. (And Honour in him, which buyes out his fault) But with a Noble Fury, and faire spirit, Seeing his Reputation touch’d to death,
He did oppose his Foe:
And with such sober and vnnoted passion He did behooue his anger ere ’twas spent, As if he had but prou’d an Argument

1.Sen. You vndergo too strict a Paradox, Striuing to make an vgly deed looke faire: Your words haue tooke such paines, as if they labour’d To bring Man-slaughter into forme, and set Quarrelling Vpon the head of Valour; which indeede
Is Valour mis-begot, and came into the world, When Sects, and Factions were newly borne. Hee’s truly Valiant, that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breath,
And make his Wrongs, his Out-sides, To weare them like his Rayment, carelessely, And ne’re preferre his iniuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
If Wrongs be euilles, and inforce vs kill, What Folly ’tis, to hazard life for Ill

Alci. My Lord

1.Sen. You cannot make grosse sinnes looke cleare, To reuenge is no Valour, but to beare

Alci. My Lords, then vnder fauour, pardon me, If I speake like a Captaine.
Why do fond men expose themselues to Battell, And not endure all threats? Sleepe vpon’t, And let the Foes quietly cut their Throats Without repugnancy? If there be
Such Valour in the bearing, what make wee Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant That stay at home, if Bearing carry it:
And the Asse, more Captaine then the Lyon? The fellow loaden with Irons, wiser then the Iudge? If Wisedome be in suffering. Oh my Lords, As you are great, be pittifully Good,
Who cannot condemne rashnesse in cold blood? To kill, I grant, is sinnes extreamest Gust, But in defence, by Mercy, ’tis most iust. To be in Anger, is impietie:
But who is Man, that is not Angrie. Weigh but the Crime with this

2.Sen. You breath in vaine

Alci. In vaine?
His seruice done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium, Were a sufficient briber for his life

1 What’s that?
Alc. Why say my Lords ha’s done faire seruice, And slaine in fight many of your enemies: How full of valour did he beare himselfe In the last Conflict, and made plenteous wounds? 2 He has made too much plenty with him: He’s a sworne Riotor, he has a sinne
That often drownes him, and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no Foes, that were enough
To ouercome him. In that Beastly furie, He has bin knowne to commit outrages,
And cherrish Factions. ‘Tis inferr’d to vs, His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous

1 He dyes

Alci. Hard fate: he might haue dyed in warre. My Lords, if not for any parts in him,
Though his right arme might purchase his owne time, And be in debt to none: yet more to moue you, Take my deserts to his, and ioyne ’em both. And for I know, your reuerend Ages loue Security, Ile pawne my Victories, all my Honour to you Vpon his good returnes.
If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life, Why let the Warre receiue’t in valiant gore, For Law is strict, and Warre is nothing more

1 We are for Law, he dyes, vrge it no more On height of our displeasure: Friend, or Brother, He forfeits his owne blood, that spilles another

Alc. Must it be so? It must not bee: My Lords, I do beseech you know mee

2 How?
Alc. Call me to your remembrances

3 What

Alc. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me, It could not else be, I should proue so bace, To sue and be deny’de such common Grace. My wounds ake at you

1 Do you dare our anger?
‘Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for euer

Alc. Banish me?
Banish your dotage, banish vsurie,
That makes the Senate vgly

1 If after two dayes shine, Athens containe thee, Attend our waightier Iudgement.
And not to swell our Spirit,
He shall be executed presently.

Exeunt.

Alc. Now the Gods keepe you old enough, That you may liue
Onely in bone, that none may looke on you. I’m worse then mad: I haue kept backe their Foes While they haue told their Money, and let out Their Coine vpon large interest. I my selfe, Rich onely in large hurts. All those, for this? Is this the Balsome, that the vsuring Senat Powres into Captaines wounds? Banishment. It comes not ill: I hate not to be banisht, It is a cause worthy my Spleene and Furie, That I may strike at Athens. Ile cheere vp My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts; ‘Tis Honour with most Lands to be at ods, Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as Gods. Enter.

Enter diuers Friends at seuerall doores.

1 The good time of day to you, sir

2 I also wish it to you: I thinke this Honorable Lord did but try vs this other day

1 Vpon that were my thoughts tyring when wee encountred. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seeme in the triall of his seuerall Friends

2 It should not be, by the perswasion of his new Feasting

1 I should thinke so. He hath sent mee an earnest inuiting, which many my neere occasions did vrge mee to put off: but he hath coniur’d mee beyond them, and I must needs appeare

2 In like manner was I in debt to my importunat businesse, but he would not heare my excuse. I am sorrie, when he sent to borrow of mee, that my Prouision was out

1 I am sicke of that greefe too, as I vnderstand how all things go

2 Euery man heares so: what would hee haue borrowed of you?
1 A thousand Peeces

2 A thousand Peeces?
1 What of you?
2 He sent to me sir- Heere he comes. Enter Timon and Attendants.

Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how fare you?
1 Euer at the best, hearing well of your Lordship

2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing, then we your Lordship

Tim. Nor more willingly leaues Winter, such Summer Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompence this long stay: Feast your eares with the Musicke awhile: If they will fare so harshly o’th’ Trumpets sound: we shall too’t presently

1 I hope it remaines not vnkindely with your Lordship, that I return’d you an empty Messenger

Tim. O sir, let it not trouble you

2 My Noble Lord

Tim. Ah my good Friend, what cheere?

The Banket brought in.

2 My most Honorable Lord, I am e’ne sick of shame, that when your Lordship this other day sent to me, I was so vnfortunate a Beggar

Tim. Thinke not on’t, sir

2 If you had sent but two houres before

Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. Come bring in all together

2 All couer’d Dishes

1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you

3 Doubt not that, if money and the season can yeild it 1 How do you? What’s the newes?
3 Alcibiades is banish’d: heare you of it? Both. Alcibiades banish’d?
3 ‘Tis so, be sure of it

1 How? How?
2 I pray you vpon what?
Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw neere? 3 Ile tell you more anon. Here’s a Noble feast toward 2 This is the old man still

3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold?
2 It do’s: but time will, and so

3 I do conceyue

Tim. Each man to his stoole, with that spurre as hee would to the lip of his Mistris: your dyet shall bee in all places alike. Make not a Citie Feast of it, to let the meat coole, ere we can agree vpon the first place. Sit, sit. The Gods require our Thankes.
You great Benefactors, sprinkle our Society with Thankefulnesse. For your owne guifts, make your selues prais’d: But reserue still to giue, least your Deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that one neede not lend to another. For were your Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make the Meate be beloued, more then the Man that giues it. Let no Assembly of Twenty, be without a score of Villaines. If there sit twelue Women at the Table, let a dozen of them bee as they are. The rest of your Fees, O Gods, the Senators of Athens, together with the common legge of People, what is amisse in them, you Gods, make suteable for destruction. For these my present Friends, as they are to mee nothing, so in nothing blesse them, and to nothing are they welcome.
Vncouer Dogges, and lap

Some speake. What do’s his Lordship meane? Some other. I know not

Timon. May you a better Feast neuer behold You knot of Mouth-Friends: Smoke, & lukewarm water Is your perfection. This is Timons last, Who stucke and spangled you with Flatteries, Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villany. Liue loath’d, and long Most smiling, smooth, detested Parasites, Curteous Destroyers, affable Wolues, meeke Beares: