Timon of Athens by William Shakespeare

Act 4 - Scene 3

Woods and cave, near the seashore.

Timon : O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth [p]Rotten humidity; below
thy sister's orb [p]Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one
womb, [p]Whose procreation, residence, and birth, [p]Scarce is
dividant, touch them with several fortunes; [p]The greater scorns the
lesser: not nature, [p]To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great
fortune, [p]But by contempt of nature. [p]Raise me this beggar, and
deny 't that lord; [p]The senator shall bear contempt
hereditary, [p]The beggar native honour. [p]It is the pasture lards
the rother's sides, [p]The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who
dares, [p]In purity of manhood stand upright, [p]And say 'This man's a
flatterer?' if one be, [p]So are they all; for every grise of
fortune [p]Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate [p]Ducks to the
golden fool: all is oblique; [p]There's nothing level in our cursed
natures, [p]But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd [p]All feasts,
societies, and throngs of men! [p]His semblable, yea, himself, Timon
disdains: [p]Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me
roots! [p][Digging] [p]Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his
palate [p]With thy most operant poison! What is here? [p]Gold? yellow,
glittering, precious gold? No, gods, [p]I am no idle votarist: roots,
you clear heavens! [p]Thus much of this will make black white, foul
fair, [p]Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. [p]Ha,
you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this [p]Will lug your
priests and servants from your sides, [p]Pluck stout men's pillows
from below their heads: [p]This yellow slave [p]Will knit and break
religions, bless the accursed, [p]Make the hoar leprosy adored, place
thieves [p]And give them title, knee and approbation [p]With senators
on the bench: this is it [p]That makes the wappen'd widow wed
again; [p]She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores [p]Would cast
the gorge at, this embalms and spices [p]To the April day again. Come,
damned earth, [p]Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st
odds [p]Among the route of nations, I will make thee [p]Do thy right
nature. [p][March afar off] [p]Ha! a drum? Thou'rt quick, [p]But yet
I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, [p]When gouty keepers of
thee cannot stand. [p]Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [p][Keeping some
gold] [p][Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in] [p]warlike manner;
PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA]

Alcibiades : What art thou there? speak.

Timon : A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, [p]For showing me
again the eyes of man!

Alcibiades : What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, [p]That art thyself a
man?

Timon : I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. [p]For thy part, I do wish thou
wert a dog, [p]That I might love thee something.

Alcibiades : I know thee well; [p]But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Timon : I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, [p]I not desire to
know. Follow thy drum; [p]With man's blood paint the ground, gules,
gules: [p]Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; [p]Then what should
war be? This fell whore of thine [p]Hath in her more destruction than
thy sword, [p]For all her cherubim look.

Phrynia : Thy lips rot off!

Timon : I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns [p]To thine own lips
again.

Alcibiades : How came the noble Timon to this change?

Timon : As the moon does, by wanting light to give: [p]But then renew I could
not, like the moon; [p]There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcibiades : Noble Timon, [p]What friendship may I do thee?

Timon : None, but to [p]Maintain my opinion.

Alcibiades : What is it, Timon?

Timon : Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou [p]wilt not promise,
the gods plague thee, for thou art [p]a man! if thou dost perform,
confound thee, for [p]thou art a man!

Alcibiades : I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

Timon : Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

Alcibiades : I see them now; then was a blessed time.

Timon : As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

Timandra : Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world [p]Voiced so regardfully?

Timon : Art thou Timandra?

Timandra : Yes.

Timon : Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; [p]Give them
diseases, leaving with thee their lust. [p]Make use of thy salt hours:
season the slaves [p]For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked
youth [p]To the tub-fast and the diet.

Timandra : Hang thee, monster!

Alcibiades : Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits [p]Are drown'd and lost in
his calamities. [p]I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, [p]The
want whereof doth daily make revolt [p]In my penurious band: I have
heard, and grieved, [p]How cursed Athens, mindless of thy
worth, [p]Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, [p]But
for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,--

Timon : I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

Alcibiades : I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

Timon : How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? [p]I had rather be
alone.

Alcibiades : Why, fare thee well: [p]Here is some gold for thee.

Timon : Keep it, I cannot eat it.

Alcibiades : When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,--

Timon : Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

Alcibiades : Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Timon : The gods confound them all in thy conquest; [p]And thee after, when
thou hast conquer'd!

Alcibiades : Why me, Timon?

Timon : That, by killing of villains, [p]Thou wast born to conquer my
country. [p]Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; [p]Be as a
planetary plague, when Jove [p]Will o'er some high-viced city hang his
poison [p]In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: [p]Pity not
honour'd age for his white beard; [p]He is an usurer: strike me the
counterfeit matron; [p]It is her habit only that is
honest, [p]Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek [p]Make soft
thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, [p]That through the
window-bars bore at men's eyes, [p]Are not within the leaf of pity
writ, [p]But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the
babe, [p]Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; [p]Think
it a bastard, whom the oracle [p]Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat
shall cut, [p]And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; [p]Put
armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; [p]Whose proof, nor yells of
mothers, maids, nor babes, [p]Nor sight of priests in holy vestments
bleeding, [p]Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: [p]Make
large confusion; and, thy fury spent, [p]Confounded be thyself! Speak
not, be gone.

Alcibiades : Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou [p]givest me, [p]Not all
thy counsel.

Timon : Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse [p]upon thee!

Phrynia : [with Timandra] Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?

Timon : Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, [p]And to make whores, a
bawd. Hold up, you sluts, [p]Your aprons mountant: you are not
oathable, [p]Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear [p]Into
strong shudders and to heavenly agues [p]The immortal gods that hear
you,--spare your oaths, [p]I'll trust to your conditions: be whores
still; [p]And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, [p]Be strong
in whore, allure him, burn him up; [p]Let your close fire predominate
his smoke, [p]And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six
months, [p]Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs [p]With
burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, [p]No matter:--wear
them, betray with them: whore still; [p]Paint till a horse may mire
upon your face, [p]A pox of wrinkles!

Phrynia : [with Timandra] Well, more gold: what then?

Timon : Consumptions sow [p]In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp
shins, [p]And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, [p]That he
may never more false title plead, [p]Nor sound his quillets shrilly:
hoar the flamen, [p]That scolds against the quality of flesh, [p]And
not believes himself: down with the nose, [p]Down with it flat; take
the bridge quite away [p]Of him that, his particular to
foresee, [p]Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate [p]ruffians
bald; [p]And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war [p]Derive some
pain from you: plague all; [p]That your activity may defeat and
quell [p]The source of all erection. There's more gold: [p]Do you damn
others, and let this damn you, [p]And ditches grave you all!

Phrynia : [with Timandra] More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

Timon : More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

Alcibiades : Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: [p]If I thrive
well, I'll visit thee again.

Timon : If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

Alcibiades : I never did thee harm.

Timon : Yes, thou spokest well of me.

Alcibiades : Call'st thou that harm?

Timon : Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take [p]Thy beagles with thee.

Alcibiades : We but offend him. Strike! [p][Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES,
PHRYNIA,] [p]and TIMANDRA]

Timon : That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, [p]Should yet be hungry!
Common mother, thou, [p][Digging] [p]Whose womb unmeasurable, and
infinite breast, [p]Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same
mettle, [p]Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is
puff'd, [p]Engenders the black toad and adder blue, [p]The gilded newt
and eyeless venom'd worm, [p]With all the abhorred births below crisp
heaven [p]Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; [p]Yield him,
who all thy human sons doth hate, [p]From forth thy plenteous bosom,
one poor root! [p]Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, [p]Let it
no more bring out ingrateful man! [p]Go great with tigers, dragons,
wolves, and bears; [p]Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward
face [p]Hath to the marbled mansion all above [p]Never presented!--O,
a root,--dear thanks!-- [p]Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn
leas; [p]Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts [p]And
morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, [p]That from it all
consideration slips! [p][Enter APEMANTUS] [p]More man? plague,
plague!

Apemantus : I was directed hither: men report [p]Thou dost affect my manners, and
dost use them.

Timon : 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, [p]Whom I would imitate:
consumption catch thee!

Apemantus : This is in thee a nature but infected; [p]A poor unmanly melancholy
sprung [p]From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? [p]This
slave-like habit? and these looks of care? [p]Thy flatterers yet wear
silk, drink wine, lie soft; [p]Hug their diseased perfumes, and have
forgot [p]That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, [p]By putting on
the cunning of a carper. [p]Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to
thrive [p]By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, [p]And let
his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, [p]Blow off thy cap; praise his
most vicious strain, [p]And call it excellent: thou wast told
thus; [p]Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome [p]To
knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just [p]That thou turn rascal;
hadst thou wealth again, [p]Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my
likeness.

Timon : Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.

Apemantus : Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; [p]A madman so long,
now a fool. What, think'st [p]That the bleak air, thy boisterous
chamberlain, [p]Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd
trees, [p]That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, [p]And skip
where thou point'st out? will the [p]cold brook, [p]Candied with ice,
caudle thy morning taste, [p]To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call
the creatures [p]Whose naked natures live in an the spite [p]Of
wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, [p]To the conflicting
elements exposed, [p]Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; [p]O,
thou shalt find--

Timon : A fool of thee: depart.

Apemantus : I love thee better now than e'er I did.

Timon : I hate thee worse.

Apemantus : Why?

Timon : Thou flatter'st misery.

Apemantus : I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.

Timon : Why dost thou seek me out?

Apemantus : To vex thee.

Timon : Always a villain's office or a fool's. [p]Dost please thyself in't?

Apemantus : Ay.

Timon : What! a knave too?

Apemantus : If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on [p]To castigate thy pride,
'twere well: but thou [p]Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be
again, [p]Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery [p]Outlives encertain
pomp, is crown'd before: [p]The one is filling still, never
complete; [p]The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, [p]Hath
a distracted and most wretched being, [p]Worse than the worst,
content. [p]Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

Timon : Not by his breath that is more miserable. [p]Thou art a slave, whom
Fortune's tender arm [p]With favour never clasp'd; but bred a
dog. [p]Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded [p]The
sweet degrees that this brief world affords [p]To such as may the
passive drugs of it [p]Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged
thyself [p]In general riot; melted down thy youth [p]In different beds
of lust; and never learn'd [p]The icy precepts of respect, but
follow'd [p]The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, [p]Who had the
world as my confectionary, [p]The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and
hearts of men [p]At duty, more than I could frame employment, [p]That
numberless upon me stuck as leaves [p]Do on the oak, hive with one
winter's brush [p]Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare [p]For
every storm that blows: I, to bear this, [p]That never knew but
better, is some burden: [p]Thy nature did commence in sufferance,
time [p]Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? [p]They
never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? [p]If thou wilt curse, thy
father, that poor rag, [p]Must be thy subject, who in spite put
stuff [p]To some she beggar and compounded thee [p]Poor rogue
hereditary. Hence, be gone! [p]If thou hadst not been born the worst
of men, [p]Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

Apemantus : Art thou proud yet?

Timon : Ay, that I am not thee.

Apemantus : I, that I was [p]No prodigal.

Timon : I, that I am one now: [p]Were all the wealth I have shut up in
thee, [p]I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. [p]That the
whole life of Athens were in this! [p]Thus would I eat it.

Apemantus : Here; I will mend thy feast.

Timon : First mend my company, take away thyself.

Apemantus : So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

Timon : 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; [p]if not, I would it
were.

Apemantus : What wouldst thou have to Athens?

Timon : Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, [p]Tell them there I have
gold; look, so I have.

Apemantus : Here is no use for gold.

Timon : The best and truest; [p]For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apemantus : Where liest o' nights, Timon?

Timon : Under that's above me. [p]Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

Apemantus : Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat [p]it.

Timon : Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!

Apemantus : Where wouldst thou send it?

Timon : To sauce thy dishes.

Apemantus : The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the [p]extremity of
both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt [p]and thy perfume, they mocked
thee for too much [p]curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but
art [p]despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for [p]thee, eat
it.

Timon : On what I hate I feed not.

Apemantus : Dost hate a medlar?

Timon : Ay, though it look like thee.

Apemantus : An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst [p]have loved
thyself better now. What man didst thou [p]ever know unthrift that was
beloved after his means?

Timon : Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou [p]ever know
beloved?

Apemantus : Myself.

Timon : I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a [p]dog.

Apemantus : What things in the world canst thou nearest compare [p]to thy
flatterers?

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

Apemantus : Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Timon : Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of [p]men, and remain
a beast with the beasts?

Apemantus : Ay, Timon.

Timon : A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' [p]attain to! If thou
wert the lion, the fox would [p]beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb,
the fox would [p]eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion
would [p]suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by [p]the
ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would [p]torment thee, and
still thou livedst but as a [p]breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the
wolf, thy [p]greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou
shouldst [p]hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the [p]unicorn,
pride and wrath would confound thee and [p]make thine own self the
conquest of thy fury: wert [p]thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by
the horse: [p]wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by
the [p]leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to [p]the lion
and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on [p]thy life: all thy
safety were remotion and thy [p]defence absence. What beast couldst
thou be, that [p]were not subject to a beast? and what a beast
art [p]thou already, that seest not thy loss in [p]transformation!

Apemantus : If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou [p]mightst have
hit upon it here: the commonwealth of [p]Athens is become a forest of
beasts.

Timon : How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

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

Timon : When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be [p]welcome. I had
rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

Apemantus : Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

Timon : Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!

Apemantus : A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.

Timon : All villains that do stand by thee are pure.

Apemantus : There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

Timon : If I name thee. [p]I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.

Apemantus : I would my tongue could rot them off!

Timon : Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! [p]Choler does kill me that thou art
alive; [p]I swound to see thee.

Apemantus : Would thou wouldst burst!

Timon : Away, [p]Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose [p]A stone by
thee.

Apemantus : Beast!

Timon : Slave!

Apemantus : Toad!

Timon : Rogue, rogue, rogue! [p]I am sick of this false world, and will love
nought [p]But even the mere necessities upon 't. [p]Then, Timon,
presently prepare thy grave; [p]Lie where the light foam the sea may
beat [p]Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, [p]That death in me
at others' lives may laugh. [p][To the gold] [p]O thou sweet
king-killer, and dear divorce [p]'Twixt natural son and sire! thou
bright defiler [p]Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! [p]Thou
ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, [p]Whose blush doth thaw
the consecrated snow [p]That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible
god, [p]That solder'st close impossibilities, [p]And makest them kiss!
that speak'st with [p]every tongue, [p]To every purpose! O thou touch
of hearts! [p]Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue [p]Set
them into confounding odds, that beasts [p]May have the world in
empire!

Apemantus : Would 'twere so! [p]But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st
gold: [p]Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Timon : Throng'd to!

Apemantus : Ay.

Timon : Thy back, I prithee.

Apemantus : Live, and love thy misery.

Timon : Long live so, and so die. [p][Exit APEMANTUS] [p]I am quit. [p]Moe
things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

First Bandit : Where should he have this gold? It is some poor [p]fragment, some
slender sort of his remainder: the [p]mere want of gold, and the
falling-from of his [p]friends, drove him into this melancholy.

Second Bandit : It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

Third Bandit : Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not [p]for't, he will
supply us easily; if he covetously [p]reserve it, how shall's get it?

Second Bandit : True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

First Bandit : Is not this he?

Banditti : Where?

Second Bandit : 'Tis his description.

Third Bandit : He; I know him.

Banditti : Save thee, Timon.

Timon : Now, thieves?

Banditti : Soldiers, not thieves.

Timon : Both too; and women's sons.

Banditti : We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

Timon : Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. [p]Why should you want?
Behold, the earth hath roots; [p]Within this mile break forth a
hundred springs; [p]The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet
hips; [p]The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush [p]Lays her
full mess before you. Want! why want?

First Bandit : We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, [p]As beasts and birds and
fishes.

Timon : Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; [p]You must eat
men. Yet thanks I must you con [p]That you are thieves profess'd, that
you work not [p]In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft [p]In
limited professions. Rascal thieves, [p]Here's gold. Go, suck the
subtle blood o' the grape, [p]Till the high fever seethe your blood to
froth, [p]And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; [p]His
antidotes are poison, and he slays [p]Moe than you rob: take wealth
and lives together; [p]Do villany, do, since you protest to
do't, [p]Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. [p]The sun's a
thief, and with his great attraction [p]Robs the vast sea: the moon's
an arrant thief, [p]And her pale fire she snatches from the
sun: [p]The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves [p]The moon
into salt tears: the earth's a thief, [p]That feeds and breeds by a
composture stolen [p]From general excrement: each thing's a
thief: [p]The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power [p]Have
uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, [p]Rob one another.
There's more gold. Cut throats: [p]All that you meet are thieves: to
Athens go, [p]Break open shops; nothing can you steal, [p]But thieves
do lose it: steal no less for this [p]I give you; and gold confound
you howsoe'er! Amen.

Third Bandit : Has almost charmed me from my profession, by [p]persuading me to it.

First Bandit : 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises [p]us; not to have
us thrive in our mystery.

Second Bandit : I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

First Bandit : Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time [p]so miserable but
a man may be true.

Flavius : O you gods! [p]Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? [p]Full of
decay and failing? O monument [p]And wonder of good deeds evilly
bestow'd! [p]What an alteration of honour [p]Has desperate want
made! [p]What viler thing upon the earth than friends [p]Who can bring
noblest minds to basest ends! [p]How rarely does it meet with this
time's guise, [p]When man was wish'd to love his enemies! [p]Grant I
may ever love, and rather woo [p]Those that would mischief me than
those that do! [p]Has caught me in his eye: I will present [p]My
honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, [p]Still serve him with my
life. My dearest master!

Timon : Away! what art thou?

Flavius : Have you forgot me, sir?

Timon : Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; [p]Then, if thou grant'st
thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee.

Flavius : An honest poor servant of yours.

Timon : Then I know thee not: [p]I never had honest man about me, I; all [p]I
kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.

Flavius : The gods are witness, [p]Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer
grief [p]For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.

Timon : What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I [p]love thee, [p]Because
thou art a woman, and disclaim'st [p]Flinty mankind; whose eyes do
never give [p]But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's
sleeping: [p]Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with
weeping!

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

Timon : Had I a steward [p]So true, so just, and now so comfortable? [p]It
almost turns my dangerous nature mild. [p]Let me behold thy face.
Surely, this man [p]Was born of woman. [p]Forgive my general and
exceptless rashness, [p]You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim [p]One
honest man--mistake me not--but one; [p]No more, I pray,--and he's a
steward. [p]How fain would I have hated all mankind! [p]And thou
redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, [p]I fell with
curses. [p]Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; [p]For, by
oppressing and betraying me, [p]Thou mightst have sooner got another
service: [p]For many so arrive at second masters, [p]Upon their first
lord's neck. But tell me true-- [p]For I must ever doubt, though ne'er
so sure-- [p]Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, [p]If not a usuring
kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, [p]Expecting in return twenty
for one?

Flavius : No, my most worthy master; in whose breast [p]Doubt and suspect, alas,
are placed too late: [p]You should have fear'd false times when you
did feast: [p]Suspect still comes where an estate is least. [p]That
which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, [p]Duty and zeal to your
unmatched mind, [p]Care of your food and living; and, believe
it, [p]My most honour'd lord, [p]For any benefit that points to
me, [p]Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange [p]For this one wish,
that you had power and wealth [p]To requite me, by making rich
yourself.

Timon : Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, [p]Here, take: the gods
out of my misery [p]Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and
happy; [p]But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; [p]Hate
all, curse all, show charity to none, [p]But let the famish'd flesh
slide from the bone, [p]Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to
dogs [p]What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, [p]Debts
wither 'em to nothing; be men like [p]blasted woods, [p]And may
diseases lick up their false bloods! [p]And so farewell and thrive.

Flavius : O, let me stay, [p]And comfort you, my master.

Timon : If thou hatest curses, [p]Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and
free: [p]Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.

Previous: Act 4 - Scene 2

Next: Act 5 - Scene 1

Web Standards & Support: