Timon of Athens by William Shakespeare
Act 4 - Scene 2
Athens. A room in Timon’s house.
First Servant : Hear you, master steward, where's our master?
[p]Are we undone? cast
off? nothing remaining?
Flavius : Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
[p]Let me be recorded by
the righteous gods,
[p]I am as poor as you.
First Servant : Such a house broke!
[p]So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and
not
[p]One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
[p]And go along with
him!
Second Servant : As we do turn our backs
[p]From our companion thrown into his
grave,
[p]So his familiars to his buried fortunes
[p]Slink all away,
leave their false vows with him,
[p]Like empty purses pick'd; and his
poor self,
[p]A dedicated beggar to the air,
[p]With his disease of
all-shunn'd poverty,
[p]Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our
fellows.
Flavius : All broken implements of a ruin'd house.
Third Servant : Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;
[p]That see I by our faces; we
are fellows still,
[p]Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our
bark,
[p]And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
[p]Hearing the
surges threat: we must all part
[p]Into this sea of air.
Flavius : Good fellows all,
[p]The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst
you.
[p]Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
[p]Let's yet be
fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
[p]As 'twere a knell unto our
master's fortunes,
[p]'We have seen better days.' Let each take
some;
[p]Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
[p]Thus part
we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
[p][Servants embrace, and part
several ways]
[p]O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings
us!
[p]Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
[p]Since riches
point to misery and contempt?
[p]Who would be so mock'd with glory? or
to live
[p]But in a dream of friendship?
[p]To have his pomp and all
what state compounds
[p]But only painted, like his varnish'd
friends?
[p]Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
[p]Undone
by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
[p]When man's worst sin is, he
does too much good!
[p]Who, then, dares to be half so kind
again?
[p]For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
[p]My
dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,
[p]Rich, only to be
wretched, thy great fortunes
[p]Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas,
kind lord!
[p]He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
[p]Of
monstrous friends, nor has he with him to
[p]Supply his life, or that
which can command it.
[p]I'll follow and inquire him out:
[p]I'll ever
serve his mind with my best will;
[p]Whilst I have gold, I'll be his
steward still.
Previous: Act 4 - Scene 1
Next: Act 4 - Scene 3
