Timon of Athens

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Act I, Scene I
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 steepy 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.
Exit.
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. 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 ye 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 fegin'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 depatt, 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.
Comes shall we in,
And raste 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.
Original text
Act I, Scene II
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.

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

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 wecome all, let 'em haue kind admittance.
Musicke make their welcome.

Luc.
You see my Lord, how ample y'are belou'd.
Enter the Maskers of
Amazons, with Lutes in their hands, dauncing and
playing.

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.
Exit.

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.
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
Modern text
Act I, Scene I
Enter Poet and Painter, Jeweller and Merchant, at
several doors

POET
Good day, sir.

PAINTER
I am glad y'are well.

POET
I have not seen you long. How goes the world?

PAINTER
It wears, sir, as it grows.

POET
Ay, that's well known.
But what particular rarity? What strange,
Which manifold record not matches? See,
Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power
Hath conjured to attend! I know the merchant.

PAINTER
I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

MERCHANT
O, 'tis a worthy lord!

JEWELLER
Nay, that's most fixed.

MERCHANT
A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,
To an untirable and continuate goodness.
He passes.

JEWELLER
I have a jewel here –

MERCHANT
O, pray, let's see't. For the Lord Timon, sir?

JEWELLER
If he will touch the estimate. But for that –

POET
(reciting to himself)
‘ When we for recompense have praised the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.’

MERCHANT
(looking at the jewel)
'Tis a good form.

JEWELLER
And rich. Here is a water, look ye.

PAINTER
You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
To the great lord.

POET
A thing slipped idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum which oozes
From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i'th' flint
Shows not till it be struck. Our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and like the current flies
Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

PAINTER
A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

POET
Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let's see your piece.

PAINTER
'Tis a good piece.

POET
So 'tis. This comes off well and excellent.

PAINTER
Indifferent.

POET
Admirable. How this grace
Speaks his own standing! What a mental power
This eye shoots forth! How big imagination
Moves in this lip! To th' dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.

PAINTER
It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch. Is't good?

POET
I will say of it,
It tutors nature. Artificial strife
Lives in these touches livelier than life.
Enter certain senators, and pass over the stage

PAINTER
How this lord is followed!

POET
The senators of Athens – happy man!

PAINTER
Look, more!

POET
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
I have in this rough work shaped out a man
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment. My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of tax. No levelled malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

PAINTER
How shall I understand you?

POET
I will unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and slipp'ry creatures as
Of grave and austere quality, tender down
Their services to Lord Timon. His large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself – even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

PAINTER
I saw them speak together.

POET
Sir,
I have upon a high and pleasant hill
Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o'th' mount
Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states. Amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed
One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.

PAINTER
'Tis conceived to scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckoned from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well expressed
In our condition.

POET
Nay, sir, but hear me on.
All those which were his fellows but of late –
Some better than his value – on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink the free air.

PAINTER
Ay, marry, what of these?

POET
When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants,
Which laboured after him to the mountain's top
Even on their knees and hands, let him fall down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

PAINTER
'Tis common.
A thousand moral paintings I can show
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.
Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himself
courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from
Ventidius talking with him; Lucilius and other
servants following

TIMON
Imprisoned is he, say you?

MESSENGER
Ay, my good lord. Five talents is his debt,
His means most short, his creditors most strait.
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up, which failing
Periods his comfort.

TIMON
Noble Ventidius! Well,
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he must need me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him.

MESSENGER
Your lordship ever binds him.

TIMON
Commend me to him. I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me.
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.

MESSENGER
All happiness to your honour!
Exit
Enter an Old Athenian

OLD ATHENIAN
Lord Timon, hear me speak.

TIMON
Freely, good father.

OLD ATHENIAN
Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

TIMON
I have so. What of him?

OLD ATHENIAN
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

TIMON
Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

LUCILIUS
Here, at your lordship's service.

OLD ATHENIAN
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.

TIMON
Well, what further?

OLD ATHENIAN
One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got.
The maid is fair, o'th' youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

TIMON
The man is honest.

OLD ATHENIAN
Therefore he will be, Timon.
His honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.

TIMON
Does she love him?

OLD ATHENIAN
She is young and apt.
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

TIMON
(to Lucilius)
Love you the maid?

LUCILIUS
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

OLD ATHENIAN
If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

TIMON
How shall she be endowed
If she be mated with an equal husband?

OLD ATHENIAN
Three talents on the present; in future, all.

TIMON
This gentleman of mine hath served me long.
To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter.
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.

OLD ATHENIAN
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

TIMON
My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

LUCILIUS
Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may
The state or fortune fall into my keeping
Which is not owed to you.
Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian

POET
(presenting a poem)
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

TIMON
I thank you; you shall hear from me anon.
Go not away. (To Painter) What have you there, my friend?

PAINTER
A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.

TIMON
Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside; these pencilled figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work,
And you shall find I like it. Wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.

PAINTER
The gods preserve ye!

TIMON
Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand.
We must needs dine together. (To Jeweller) Sir, your jewel
Hath suffered under praise.

JEWELLER
What, my lord, dispraise?

TIMON
A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extolled,
It would unclew me quite.

JEWELLER
My lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give. But you well know
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are prized by their masters. Believe't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

TIMON
Well mocked.
Enter Apemantus

MERCHANT
No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue
Which all men speak with him.

TIMON
Look who comes here. Will you be chid?

JEWELLER
We'll bear, with your lordship.

MERCHANT
He'll spare none.

TIMON
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.

APEMANTUS
Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow,
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

TIMON
Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou knowest them not.

APEMANTUS
Are they not Athenians?

TIMON
Yes.

APEMANTUS
Then I repent not.

JEWELLER
You know me, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
Thou knowest I do. I called thee by thy name.

TIMON
Thou art proud, Apemantus.

APEMANTUS
Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

TIMON
Whither art going?

APEMANTUS
To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

TIMON
That's a deed thou'lt die for.

APEMANTUS
Right, if doing nothing be death by th' law.

TIMON
How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
The best, for the innocence.

TIMON
Wrought he not well that painted it?

APEMANTUS
He wrought better that made the painter,
and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

PAINTER
Y'are a dog.

APEMANTUS
Thy mother's of my generation. What's
she, if I be a dog?

TIMON
Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
No. I eat not lords.

TIMON
An thou shouldst, thou'dst anger ladies.

APEMANTUS
O, they eat lords; so they come by great
bellies.

TIMON
That's a lascivious apprehension.

APEMANTUS
So thou apprehendest it. Take it for thy
labour.

TIMON
How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not
cost a man a doit.

TIMON
What dost thou think 'tis worth?

APEMANTUS
Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

POET
How now, philosopher!

APEMANTUS
Thou liest.

POET
Art not one?

APEMANTUS
Yes.

POET
Then I lie not.

APEMANTUS
Art not a poet?

POET
Yes.

APEMANTUS
Then thou liest. Look in thy last work,
where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

POET
That's not feigned – he is so.

APEMANTUS
Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee
for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered is worthy
o'th' flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

TIMON
What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
E'en as Apemantus does now: hate a lord
with my heart.

TIMON
What, thyself?

APEMANTUS
Ay.

TIMON
Wherefore?

APEMANTUS
That I had no angry wit to be a lord. – Art
not thou a merchant?

MERCHANT
Ay, Apemantus.

APEMANTUS
Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

MERCHANT
If traffic do it, the gods do it.

APEMANTUS
Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound
thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger

TIMON
What trumpet's that?

MESSENGER
'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.

TIMON
Pray entertain them, give them guide to us.
Exeunt some attendants
You must needs dine with me. Go not you hence
Till I have thanked you. When dinner's done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
Enter Alcibiades, with the rest
Most welcome, sir!

APEMANTUS
So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love amongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out
Into baboon and monkey.

ALCIBIADES
Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.

TIMON
Right welcome, sir!
Ere we depart we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
Exeunt all but Apemantus
Enter two Lords

FIRST LORD
What time o' day is't, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
Time to be honest.

FIRST LORD
That time serves still.

APEMANTUS
The more accursed thou that still omittest it.

SECOND LORD
Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?

APEMANTUS
Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

SECOND LORD
Fare thee well, fare thee well.

APEMANTUS
Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

SECOND LORD
Why, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS
Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I
mean to give thee none.

FIRST LORD
Hang thyself.

APEMANTUS
No, I will do nothing at thy bidding. Make
thy requests to thy friend.

SECOND LORD
Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee
hence.

APEMANTUS
I will fly, like a dog, the heels o'th' ass.
Exit

FIRST LORD
He's opposite to humanity.
Come, shall we in
And taste Lord Timon's bounty? He outgoes
The very heart of kindness.

SECOND LORD
He pours it out. Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward. No meed but he repays
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.

FIRST LORD
The noblest mind he carries
That ever governed man.

SECOND LORD
Long may he live in fortunes. Shall we in?

FIRST LORD
I'll keep you company.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene II
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served
in; Flavius and others attending; and then enter
Lord Timon, Alcibiades, the States, the Athenian
Lords, and Ventidius which Timon redeemed from
prison. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus,
discontentedly, like himself

VENTIDIUS
Most honoured Timon, it hath pleased the gods
To remember my father's age, and call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich.
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.

TIMON
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius. You mistake my love.
I gave it freely ever, and there's none
Can truly say he gives, if he receives.
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.

VENTIDIUS
A noble spirit!

TIMON
Nay, my lords,
Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
But where there is true friendship there needs none.
Pray, sit. More welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me.
They sit

FIRST LORD
My lord, we always have confessed it.

APEMANTUS
Ho, ho, confessed it! Hanged it, have you not?

TIMON
O, Apemantus, you are welcome.

APEMANTUS
No,
You shall not make me welcome.
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

TIMON
Fie, th' art a churl. Y' have got a humour there
Does not become a man; 'tis much too blame.
They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est;
But yond man is ever angry.
Go, let him have a table by himself;
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for't, indeed.

APEMANTUS
Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon.
I come to observe, I give thee warning on't.

TIMON
I take no heed of thee. Th' art an Athenian,
therefore welcome. I myself would have no power –
prithee, let my meat make thee silent.

APEMANTUS
I scorn thy meat. 'Twould choke me, for I
should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods! What a number of
men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me to
see so many dip their meat in one man's blood. And all
the madness is he cheers them up to't.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
Methinks they should invite them without knives:
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There's much example for't. The fellow that sits next
him, now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of
him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill
him. 'T has been proved. If I were a huge man, I should
fear to drink at meals,
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes.
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

TIMON
My lord, in heart! And let the health go round.

SECOND LORD
Let it flow this way, my good lord.

APEMANTUS
Flow this way? A brave fellow. He keeps
his tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy
state look ill, Timon.
Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner,
Honest water, which ne'er left man i'th' mire.
This and my food are equals, there's no odds.
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
APEMANTUS'S GRACE
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf,
I pray for no man but myself.
Grant I may never prove so fond
To trust man on his oath or bond,
Or a harlot for her weeping,
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedom,
Or my friends if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't.
Rich men sin, and I eat root.
He eats and drinks
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus.

TIMON
Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

ALCIBIADES
My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

TIMON
You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than
a dinner of friends.

ALCIBIADES
So they were bleeding new, my lord. There's
no meat like 'em. I could wish my best friend at such a
feast.

APEMANTUS
Would all those flatterers were thine
enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em – and bid
me to 'em.

FIRST LORD
Might we but have that happiness, my
lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we
might express some part of our zeals, we should think
ourselves for ever perfect.

TIMON
O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods
themselves have provided that I shall have much help
from you. How had you been my friends else? Why
have you that charitable title from thousands, did not
you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you
to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own
behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think
I, what need we have any friends if we should ne'er
have need of 'em? They were the most needless
creatures living should we ne'er have use for 'em, and
would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in
cases, that keeps their sounds to themselves. Why, I
have often wished myself poorer that I might come
nearer to you. We are born to do benefits. And what
better or properer can we call our own than the riches of
our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis to have so
many like brothers commanding one another's fortunes!
O, joy's e'en made away ere't can be born! Mine
eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their
faults, I drink to you.

APEMANTUS
Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.

SECOND LORD
Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And at that instant like a babe sprung up.

APEMANTUS
Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

THIRD LORD
I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

APEMANTUS
Much!
Sound tucket

TIMON
What means that trump?
Enter a Servant
How now?

SERVANT
Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies
most desirous of admittance.

TIMON
Ladies? What are their wills?

SERVANT
There comes with them a forerunner, my lord,
which bears that office to signify their pleasures.

TIMON
I pray let them be admitted.
Enter Cupid

CUPID
Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
That of his bounties taste! The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th' ear,
Taste, touch, smell, all pleased from thy table rise;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.

TIMON
They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance.
Exit Cupid
Music make their welcome.

FIRST LORD
You see, my lord, how ample y'are beloved.
Music. Enter Cupid with a Masque of Ladies as
Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and
playing

APEMANTUS
Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
They dance? They are madwomen.
Like madness is the glory of this life
As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.
Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friends' gift?
I should fear those that dance before me now
Would one day stamp upon me. 'T has been done.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of
Timon, and to show their loves each single out an
Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty
strain or two to the hautboys, and cease

TIMON
You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind.
You have added worth unto't and lustre,
And entertained me with mine own device.
I am to thank you for't.

FIRST LADY
My lord, you take us even at the best.

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

TIMON
Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
Please you to dispose yourselves.

ALL THE LADIES
Most thankfully, my lord.
Exeunt Cupid and Ladies

TIMON
Flavius!

FLAVIUS
My lord?

TIMON
The little casket bring me hither.

FLAVIUS
Yes, my lord. (Aside) More jewels yet!
There is no crossing him in's humour,
Else I should tell him well, i'faith I should,
When all's spent, he'd be crossed then, an he could.
'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.
Exit

FIRST LORD
Where be our men?

SERVANT
Here, my lord, in readiness.

SECOND LORD
Our horses!
Enter Flavius, with the casket

TIMON
O my friends,
I have one word to say to you. Look you, my good lord,
I must entreat you honour me so much
As to advance this jewel. Accept it and wear it,
Kind my lord.

FIRST LORD
I am so far already in your gifts.

ALL
So are we all.
Enter a Servant

FIRST SERVANT
My lord, there are certain nobles of the
Senate newly alighted and come to visit you.

TIMON
They are fairly welcome.
Exit Servant

FLAVIUS
I beseech your honour, vouchsafe me a word.
It does concern you near.

TIMON
Near? Why then, another time I'll hear thee. I
prithee let's be provided to show them entertainment.

FLAVIUS
(aside) I scarce know how.
Enter another Servant

SECOND SERVANT
May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapped in silver.

TIMON
I shall accept them fairly. Let the presents
Be worthily entertained.
Exit Servant
Enter a third Servant
How now? What news?

THIRD SERVANT
Please you, my lord, that honourable
gentleman Lord Lucullus entreats your company
tomorrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour
two brace of greyhounds.

TIMON
I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,
Not without fair reward.
Exit Servant

FLAVIUS
(aside)
What will this come to?
He commands us to provide and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer;
Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good.
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt. He owes
For every word. He is so kind that he now
Pays interest for't. His land's put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.
Exit

TIMON
You do yourselves much wrong.
You bate too much of your own merits.
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

SECOND LORD
With more than common thanks I will receive it.

THIRD LORD
O, he's the very soul of bounty.

TIMON
And now I remember, my lord, you gave good
words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis
yours because you liked it.

THIRD LORD
O, I beseech you pardon me, my lord, in
that.

TIMON
You may take my word, my lord. I know no man
can justly praise but what he does affect. I weigh my
friend's affection with mine own. I'll tell you true, I'll
call to you.

ALL THE LORDS
O, none so welcome.

TIMON
I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give.
Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
It comes in charity to thee; for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitched field.

ALCIBIADES
Ay, defiled land, my lord.

FIRST LORD
We are so virtuously bound –

TIMON
And so am I to you.

SECOND LORD
So infinitely endeared –

TIMON
All to you. Lights, more lights!

FIRST LORD
The best of happiness, honour, and fortunes
Keep with you, Lord Timon!

TIMON
Ready for his friends.
Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon

APEMANTUS
What a coil's here,
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs.
Methinks false hearts should never have sound legs.
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on curtsies.

TIMON
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I
would be good to thee.

APEMANTUS
No, I'll nothing. For if I should be bribed
too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, Timon,
I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly.
What needs these feasts, pomps, and vainglories?

TIMON
Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am
sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell, and come
with better music.
Exit

APEMANTUS
So. Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt
not then. I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery.
Exit
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL