Imatges de pÓgina

Stay, I will lend thee Mony, borrow none.
What! what all in Motion Henceforth be no Feaft,
Whereat a Villain's not a welcome Gueft.
Burn Houfe, fiok Athens, henceforth hated be
Of Timon, Man, and all Hunianity,

[Exit. Enter the Senators. i Sen. How now, my Lords? 2 Sen. Know you the Quality of Lord Timon's Fury? 3 Sen. Push, did you see my Cap? 4 Sen. I have lost my Gown.

i Sen. He's but a mad Lord, and nought but Humour sways him. He gave me a Jewel th’other Day, and now he has beat it out of my Hat. Did

you see my Jewel? 2 Sen. Did


fee 3 Sen. Here'tis. 4 Sen. Here lyes my Gown. i Sen. Let's make no ftay. 2 Sen. Lord Timon's mad. 3 Sen. I feel'e upon my Bones. 4 Sen. One Day he gives us Diamonds, next Day Stones.

[Exeunt Senators.

my Cap?


SCENE Without the Walls of Athens.

Enter Timon.
Tim. Et me look back upon thee. O hou Wall,

in ,

And fence not Athens. Matrons, turn incontinent ;
Obedience fail in Children; Slaves and Fools
Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
And minister in their steads to general Filths.
Convert o'th' instant green Virginity,
Do't in your Parents Eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast,
Rather than render back; out with your Knives,
And cut your trusters Throats. Bound Servants, steal;
Large-handed Robbers your grave Masters are,


And Pill by Law. Maid, to thy Master's Bed;
Thy Mistress is o'th' Brothel. Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lind Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
With it beat out his Brains. Piety and Fear,
Religion to the Gods, Peace, Justice, Truth,
Domestick awe, Night-rest, and Neighbourhood,
Instruction, Manners, Mysteries and Trades,
Degrees, Observances, Customs and Laws,
Decline to your confounding Contraries.
And yet Confusion live: Plagues incident to Men,
Your potent and infectious Fevers, heap
On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our Senators, that their Limbs may halt
As lamely as their Manners. Lust and Liberty
Creep in the Minds and Marrows of our Youth,
That 'gainst the Stream of Virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves. in Riot. Itches, Blains,
Sow all the Athenian Bofoms, and their Crop
Be general Leprofie: Breath infect Breath,
Thar their Society (as their Friendship) may
Be meerly Poison. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But Nakedness, thou detestable Town.
Take thou that too, with multiplying Banns :
Timon will to the Woods, where he mall find
Th’unkindeft Beast much kinder than Mankind.
The Gods confound (hear me you good Gods all)
Th’ Arbenians both within and out that Wall;
And grant, as Timon grows, his Hate may grow,
To the whole Race of Mankind, high and low.

[Exit. SCENE ļI. Timon's House.

Enter Flavius with two or three Servants. 1 Ser. Hear you, Master Steward, where's our Master Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining?

Flav. Alack, my Fellows, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded by the Righteous Gods
I am as poor as you.

I Ser. Such a House broke!
So Noble a Master faln! all gone! and not


poor self

One Friend to take his Fortune by the Arm,
And go along with him.

2 Ser. As we do turn our Backs
From our Companion, thrown into his Grave,
So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes
Slink all away, leave their false Vows with him
Like empty Purses pick'd. And his
A dedicated Beggar to the Air,
With his Disease, of all shund Poverty,
Walks like Contempt alone. More of our Fellows.

Enter other Servants.
Flav. All broken Implements of a ruin'd House.
3 Ser. Yet do our Hearts wear Timon's Livery,
That see I by our Faces; we are Fellows still,
Serving alike in Sorrow ; Leak’d is our Bark,
And we, poor Mates, stand on the dying Deck,
Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part
Into this Sea of Air.

Flav. Good Fellows all,
The latest of my Wealth i'll share amongst you.
Where-ever we shall meer, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be Fellows. Let's shake our heads, and say,
As 'twere a Knell unto our Master's Fortunes,
We have seen better Days. Let each take some;
Nay put out all your Hands ; not one word more,
Thus part we rich in Sorrow, parting poor.

[He gives them Mony, they Embrace, and part several ways.
Oh the fierce Wretchedness that Glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from Wealth exempt,
Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt?
Who would be fo mock'd with Glory, as to live
But in a Dream of Friendship?
To have his Pomp, and all what State compounds,
But orly painted like his varnish'd Friends :
Poor honest Lord I brought low by his own Heart,
Undone by goodness: strange unusual Blood,
When Man's worst Sin is, he does too much good.
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For Bounty that makes Gods, does still mar Men.
My dearest Lord, bleft to be most accursid,
Rich only to be wretched ; thy great Fortunes


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Are made thy chief Ami&ions. Alas, kind Lord !
He's Aung in a Rage from this ungrateful Seat
Of monstrous Friends:
Nor has he to supply his Life,
Or that which can command it :
I'll follow and enquire him out.
I'll ever serve his Mind, with my best will,
Whilft I have Gold, I'll be his Steward still. [Exit

. SCENE III. The Woods.

Enter Timon.
Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the Earth
Rotten Humidity: Below thy Sister's Orb
Infect the Air. Twin'd Brothers of one Womb,
Whose Procreation, Residence, and Birth,
Scarce is dividant, touch them with several Fortunes,
The greater scorns the lesser. Not Nature,
To whom all Sores lay Siege, can bear great

But by contempt of Nature.
Raise me this Beggar, and deny't that Lord,
The Senator shall bear Contempt Hereditary,
The Beggar native Honour.
It is the Pasture lards the Beggar's sides,
The want that makes him lean. Who dares? who dares,
In purity of Manhood, stand upright,
And say, this Man's a Flatterer? If one be,
So are they all, for every grize of Fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned Pate
Ducks to the Golden Fool. All's Obloquy:
There's nothing level in our cursed Natures
But dire& Villany. Therefore be abhorrid,
All Feasts, Societies, and Throngs of Men.
His semblable, yea himself Timon disdains,
Destruction phang Mankind, Earth yield me Roots,

[Digging the Earth.
Who seeks for better of thee, fawce his Pallate
With thy most operant Poison. What is here?
Guld? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
Nd Gods, I am no idle Votarist,
Rets you clear Heavens. Thus much of this will make


Black, White; Fowl, Fair; Wrong, Right;
Base, Noble; Old, Young; Coward, Valiant.
Ha, you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why, this
Will lug your Priests and Servants from your fides :
Pluck stout Mens Pillows from below their Heads.
This yellow Slave
Will knit and break Religions, bless th'accursid,
Make the hoar Leprofie ador’d, place Thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench': This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widow wed again ;
She, whom the Spittle-House, and ulcerous Sores,
Would cast the gorge at; this embalms and spices
To thApril day again. Come, damnd Earth,
Thou common Whore of Mankind, that puttest odds
Among the rout of Nations, I will make chee
Do thy right Nature.

[March afar off
Ha! a Drum? Th'art quick,
But yet I'll bury thee Thou'lt go (strong Thief)
When gouty Keepers of thee cannot stand:
Nay, stay thou out for earneft.
Enter Alcibiades with Drum and Fife in warlike manner,

and Phrinia and Timandra. Alc. What art thou there? speak.

Tim. A Beast, as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy Heart For shewing me again the Eyes of Man.

Alc. What is thy Name is Man so hateful to thee, That art thy self a Man?

Tim. I am Misanthropos, and hate Mankind.
For thy part, I do with thou wert a Dog,
That I might love thee something.

Alc. I know thee well :
But in thy Fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Tim. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee
I not desire to know. Follow thy Drum,
With Man's Blood paint the ground, Gules, Güles :
Religious Cannons, civil Laws are cruel,
Then what should War be? This fell Whore of thine,
Hath in her more deftru&tion than thy Sword,
For all her Cherubin look.
Phri. Thy Lips rot off.
Vok, V.



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