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SCENE III.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

Арет.

Here; I will mend thy feast.

47

[Offering him something.

Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself.
Apem. So I shall mend mine own by the lack of thine.
Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
If not, I would it were.

Apem. What wouldst thou have to Athens?
Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.
Apem. Here is no use for gold.
Tim.
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.
Apem. Where ly'st o' nights, Timon?
Tim.

The best and truest:

Under that's above me.

Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

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

Tim. Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind! Apem. Where wouldst thou send it!

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume they mocked thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate I feed not.

Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An thou hadst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now.

What man didst thou ever

know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who without those means thou talkest of didst

thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myself.

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

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

Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'

hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, I and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own the conquest of thy fury: wert thou a bear, thou wou be killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wou be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou v german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred w jurors on thy life: all thy safety were remotion; and defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that w not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou alrea that seest not thy loss in transformation!

Apem. If thou couldst please me with speaking to n thou might'st have hit upon it here: the commonweal of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art o of the city?

Apem. Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and giv way: when I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shal be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apeman

tus.

Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
Tim. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
Apem. A plague on thee, thou art too bad to curse!
Tim. All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
Apem. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

Tim. If I name thee.

I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
Apem. I would my tongue could rot them off!
Tim. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!

Choler does kill me that thou art alive;

I swoon to see thee.

Apem.

Tim.

Would thou wouldst burst!

Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose

Away,

A stone by thee.

[Throus a stone at him.

Apem.

Beast!

Tim.

Slave!

[blocks in formation]

SCENE III.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

Tim.

49

Rogue, rogue, rogue!
[APEM. retreats backward, as going.

I am sick of this false world; and will love naught
But even the mere necessities upon't.
Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily : make thine epitaph,
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer and dear divorce

[Looking on the gotd. 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,

That solder'st close impossibilities,

And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!

Think, thy slave, man, rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts

May have the world in empire!

Apem.

Would 'twere so!

But not till I am dead.-I'll say thou'st gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim. Apem.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Apem.

Throng'd to?

Ay.

Live, and love thy misery! Tim. Long live so, and so die! [Exit APEMANTUS.] I am

quit.

More things like men?-Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

Enter Thieves.

1 Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder: the mere want of gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this melancholy.

2 Thief. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

3 Thief. Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it?

2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. 1 Thief. Is not this he?

Thieves. Where?

2 Thief. 'Tis his description. 3 Thief. He; I know him. VOL. V.

E

The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips;
The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want?

i Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fi You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profess'd; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limited professions. Rascal thieves, Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than you rob: take wealth and lives together; Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea 's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing 's a thief: The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away, Rob one another; - there's more gold;-cut throats; All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, Break open shops; nothing can you steal But thieves do lose it: steal not less for this I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.

[TIMON retires to his cav

3 Thief. Has almost charmed me from my profession b persuading me to it.

1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advise us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

SCENE III.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

51

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

Flav. O you gods!

Enter FLAVIUS.

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

Has desperate want made!

What viler thing upon the earth than friends
Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
Grant I may ever love, and rather woo

Those that would mischief me than those that do!-
Has caught me in his eye: I will present

My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,

Still serve him with my life.-My dearest master!

TIMON comes forward from his cave.

Tim. Away! what art thou?

Flav.

Have you forgot me, sir?

Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee.
Flav. An honest poor servant of yours.

Tim. Then I know thee not:

I ne'er had honest man about me, I; all

I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.
Flav. The gods are witness,

Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief

For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.

Tim. What, dost thou weep?-Come nearer;-then I love thee

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st

Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give

But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping:

Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
To accept my grief, and, whilst this poor wealth lasts,
To entertain me as your steward still.

Tim. Had I a steward

So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
Was born of woman.-

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