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twg_000000026800 | [_Exit._] SERVANT. Excellent! Your lordships a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic; he crossed himself byt, and I cannot think but, in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot ardent | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026801 | zeal would set whole realms on fire. Of such a nature is his politic love. This was my lords best hope, now all are fled Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead, Doors that were neer acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year must be employed Now to guard sure their master. And this is all a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026802 | liberal course allows, Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. [_Exit._] SCENE IV. A hall in Timons house Enter two of Varros Servants meeting Titus and Hortensius and then Lucius, all Servants of Timons creditors, to wait for his coming out. FIRST VARROS SERVANT. Well met, good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. TITUS. The like to you, kind Varro. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026803 | HORTENSIUS. Lucius! What, do we meet together? LUCIUS. Ay, and I think One business does command us all; For mine is money. TITUS. So is theirs and ours. Enter Philotus. LUCIUS. And, sir, Philotus too! PHILOTUS. Good day at once. LUCIUS. Welcome, good brother. What do you think the hour? PHILOTUS. Labouring for nine. LUCIUS. So much? PHILOTUS. Is not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026804 | my lord seen yet? LUCIUS. Not yet. PHILOTUS. I wonder ont, he was wont to shine at seven. LUCIUS. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him. You must consider that a prodigal course Is like the suns, but not like his recoverable. I fear tis deepest winter in Lord Timons purse: That is, one may reach deep enough, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026805 | and yet Find little. PHILOTUS. I am of your fear for that. TITUS. Ill show you how t observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money? HORTENSIUS. Most true, he does. TITUS. And he wears jewels now of Timons gift, For which I wait for money. HORTENSIUS. It is against my heart. LUCIUS. Mark how strange it shows, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026806 | Timon in this should pay more than he owes, And een as if your lord should wear rich jewels And send for money for em. HORTENSIUS. Im weary of this charge, the gods can witness. I know my lord hath spent of Timons wealth, And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. FIRST VARROS SERVANT. Yes, mines three thousand crowns. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026807 | Whats yours? LUCIUS. Five thousand mine. FIRST VARROS SERVANT. Tis much deep, and it should seem by th sum Your masters confidence was above mine, Else surely his had equalled. Enter Flaminius. TITUS. One of Lord Timons men. LUCIUS. Flaminius? Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord ready to come forth? FLAMINIUS. No, indeed he is not. TITUS. We attend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026808 | his lordship; pray, signify so much. FLAMINIUS. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent. [_Exit Flaminius._] Enter Flavius in a cloak, muffled. LUCIUS. Ha, is not that his steward muffled so? He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him. TITUS. Do you hear, sir? SECOND VARROS SERVANT. By your leave, sir. FLAVIUS. What | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026809 | do you ask of me, my friend? TITUS. We wait for certain money here, sir. FLAVIUS. Ay, If money were as certain as your waiting, Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and bills When your false masters eat of my lords meat? Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts, And take down th interest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026810 | into their gluttonous maws. You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up, Let me pass quietly. Believet, my lord and I have made an end, I have no more to reckon, he to spend. LUCIUS. Ay, but this answer will not serve. FLAVIUS. If twill not serve, tis not so base as you, For you serve knaves. [_Exit._] FIRST | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026811 | VARROS SERVANT. How? What does his cashiered worship mutter? SECOND VARROS SERVANT. No matter what, hes poor, and thats revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings. Enter Servilius. TITUS. O, heres Servilius; now we shall know some answer. SERVILIUS. If I might beseech you, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026812 | gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much fromt. For taket of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him, hes much out of health and keeps his chamber. LUCIUS. Many do keep their chambers are not sick. And if it be so far beyond his health, Methinks he should the sooner | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026813 | pay his debts And make a clear way to the gods. SERVILIUS. Good gods! TITUS. We cannot take this for answer, sir. FLAMINIUS. [_Within_.] Servilius, help! My lord, my lord! Enter Timon in a rage. TIMON. What, are my doors opposed against my passage? Have I been ever free, and must my house Be my retentive enemy, my jail? The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026814 | place which I have feasted, does it now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? LUCIUS. Put in now, Titus. TITUS. My lord, here is my bill. LUCIUS. Heres mine. HORTENSIUS. And mine, my lord. BOTH VARROS SERVANTS. And ours, my lord. PHILOTUS. All our bills. TIMON. Knock me down with em! Cleave me to the girdle. LUCIUS. Alas, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026815 | my lord TIMON. Cut my heart in sums! TITUS. Mine, fifty talents. TIMON. Tell out my blood. LUCIUS. Five thousand crowns, my lord. TIMON. Five thousand drops pays that. What yours, and yours? FIRST VARROS SERVANT. My lord SECOND VARROS SERVANT. My lord TIMON. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! [_Exit._] HORTENSIUS. Faith, I perceive our | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026816 | masters may throw their caps at their money. These debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes em. [_Exeunt._] Enter Timon and Flavius. TIMON. They have een put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors? Devils! FLAVIUS. My dear lord TIMON. What if it should be so? FLAVIUS. My lord TIMON. Ill have it so.My steward! FLAVIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026817 | Here, my lord. TIMON. So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius, all. Ill once more feast the rascals. FLAVIUS. O my lord, You only speak from your distracted soul; There is not so much left to furnish out A moderate table. TIMON. Be it not in thy care. Go, I charge thee, invite them all. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026818 | Let in the tide Of knaves once more. My cook and Ill provide. [_Exeunt._] SCENE V. The same. The senate house Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants. FIRST SENATOR. My lord, you have my voice to t. The faults Bloody. Tis necessary he should die. Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. SECOND SENATOR. Most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026819 | true, the law shall bruise em. ALCIBIADES. Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! FIRST SENATOR. Now, captain? ALCIBIADES. I am a humble suitor to your virtues, For pity is the virtue of the law, And none but tyrants use it cruelly. It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood Hath | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026820 | stepped into the law, which is past depth To those that without heed do plunge intot. He is a man, setting his fate aside, Of comely virtues, Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice An honour in him which buys out his fault But with a noble fury and fair spirit, Seeing his reputation touched to death, He did | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026821 | oppose his foe; And with such sober and unnoted passion He did behave his anger, ere twas spent, As if he had but proved an argument. FIRST SENATOR. You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. Your words have took such pains as if they laboured To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026822 | Upon the head of valour, which indeed Is valour misbegot and came into the world When sects and factions were newly born. Hes truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And neer prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026823 | danger. If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, What folly tis to hazard life for ill! ALCIBIADES. My lord FIRST SENATOR. You cannot make gross sins look clear. To revenge is no valour, but to bear. ALCIBIADES. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me If I speak like a captain. Why do fond men expose themselves to battle And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026824 | not endure all threats? Sleep upont, And let the foes quietly cut their throats Without repugnancy? If there be Such valour in the bearing, what make we Abroad? Why, then, women are more valiant That stay at home, if bearing carry it, And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, If | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026825 | wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, As you are great, be pitifully good. Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? To kill, I grant, is sins extremest gust, But in defence, by mercy, tis most just. To be in anger is impiety, But who is man that is not angry? Weigh but the crime with this. SECOND SENATOR. You | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026826 | breathe in vain. ALCIBIADES. In vain? His service done At Lacedaemon and Byzantium Were a sufficient briber for his life. FIRST SENATOR. Whats that? ALCIBIADES. Why, I say, my lords, has done fair service And slain in fight many of your enemies. How full of valour did he bear himself In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! SECOND SENATOR. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026827 | He has made too much plenty with em. Hes a sworn rioter. He has a sin That often drowns him and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no foes, that were enough To overcome him. In that beastly fury, He has been known to commit outrages And cherish factions. Tis inferred to us His days are foul and his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026828 | drink dangerous. FIRST SENATOR. He dies. ALCIBIADES. Hard fate! He might have died in war. My lords, if not for any parts in him, Though his right arm might purchase his own time And be in debt to none, yet, more to move you, Take my deserts to his and join em both. And, for I know your reverend ages | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026829 | love Security, Ill pawn my victories, all My honour, to you upon his good returns. If by this crime he owes the law his life, Why, let the war receivet in valiant gore, For law is strict, and war is nothing more. FIRST SENATOR. We are for law. He dies. Urge it no more, On height of our displeasure. Friend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026830 | or brother, He forfeits his own blood that spills another. ALCIBIADES. Must it be so? It must not be. My lords, I do beseech you, know me. SECOND SENATOR. How? ALCIBIADES. Call me to your remembrances. THIRD SENATOR. What? ALCIBIADES. I cannot think but your age has forgot me, It could not else be I should prove so base To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026831 | sue and be denied such common grace. My wounds ache at you. FIRST SENATOR. Do you dare our anger? Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for ever. ALCIBIADES. Banish me? Banish your dotage, banish usury, That makes the Senate ugly. FIRST SENATOR. If, after two days shine, Athens contain thee, Attend our weightier judgment. And, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026832 | not to swell our spirit, He shall be executed presently. [_Exeunt Senators._] ALCIBIADES. Now the gods keep you old enough, that you may live Only in bone, that none may look on you! Im worse than mad. I have kept back their foes While they have told their money and let out Their coin upon large interest, I myself Rich | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026833 | only in large hurts. All those for this? Is this the balsam that the usuring senate Pours into captains wounds? Banishment. It comes not ill. I hate not to be banished. It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, That I may strike at Athens. Ill cheer up My discontented troops and lay for hearts. Tis honour with most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026834 | lands to be at odds. Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. [_Exit._] SCENE VI. A room of state in Timons house Music. Enter divers Friends at several doors. FIRST FRIEND. The good time of day to you, sir. SECOND FRIEND. I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord did but try us this other day. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026835 | FIRST FRIEND. Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. SECOND FRIEND. It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. FIRST FRIEND. I should think so. He hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026836 | my near occasions did urge me to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear. SECOND FRIEND. In like manner was I in debt to my importunate business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my provision was out. FIRST FRIEND. I am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026837 | sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go. SECOND FRIEND. Every man heres so. What would he have borrowed you? FIRST FRIEND. A thousand pieces. SECOND FRIEND. A thousand pieces! FIRST FRIEND. What of you? SECOND FRIEND. He sent to me, sirhere he comes. Enter Timon and Attendants. TIMON. With all my heart, gentlemen both! And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026838 | how fare you? FIRST FRIEND. Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. SECOND FRIEND. The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship. TIMON. [_Aside_.] Nor more willingly leaves winter, such summer birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay. Feast your ears with the music awhile, if they will fare so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026839 | harshly o th trumpets sound; we shall tot presently. FIRST FRIEND. I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship that I returned you an empty messenger. TIMON. O, sir, let it not trouble you. SECOND FRIEND. My noble lord TIMON. Ah, my good friend, what cheer? SECOND FRIEND. My most honourable lord, I am een sick of shame that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026840 | when your lordship this other day sent to me I was so unfortunate a beggar. TIMON. Think not ont, sir. SECOND FRIEND. If you had sent but two hours before TIMON. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. [_The banquet brought in._] Come, bring in all together. SECOND FRIEND. All covered dishes! FIRST FRIEND. Royal cheer, I warrant you. THIRD | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026841 | FRIEND. Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it. FIRST FRIEND. How do you? Whats the news? THIRD FRIEND. Alcibiades is banished. Hear you of it? FIRST AND SECOND FRIENDS. Alcibiades banished? THIRD FRIEND. Tis so, be sure of it. FIRST FRIEND. How, how? SECOND FRIEND. I pray you, upon what? TIMON. My worthy friends, will you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026842 | draw near? THIRD FRIEND. Ill tell you more anon. Heres a noble feast toward. SECOND FRIEND. This is the old man still. THIRD FRIEND. Willt hold, willt hold? SECOND FRIEND. It does, but time willand so THIRD FRIEND. I do conceive. TIMON. Each man to his stool with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress. Your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026843 | diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks: You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves praised, but reserve still to give, lest your deities be despised. Lend | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026844 | to each man enough, that one need not lend to another; for, were your godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a dozen of them | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026845 | be as they are. The rest of your foes, O gods, the senators of Athens, together with the common lag of people, what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they welcome. Uncover, dogs, and lap. [_The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026846 | dishes are uncovered and prove to be full of lukewarm water._] SOME SPEAK. What does his lordship mean? SOME OTHER. I know not. TIMON. May you a better feast never behold, You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and lukewarm water Is your perfection. This is Timons last, Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, Washes it off and sprinkles in your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026847 | faces Your reeking villainy. [_Throws water in their faces._] Live loathed, and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, times flies, Cap-and-knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! Of man and beast the infinite malady Crust you quite oer! [_They stand_.] What, dost thou go? Soft! Take thy physic first; thou too, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026848 | and thou! Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. [_He attacks them and forces them out._] What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast Whereat a villains not a welcome guest. Burn, house! Sink Athens! Henceforth hated be Of Timon man and all humanity! [_Exit._] Enter Timons Friends, the Senators with other Lords. FIRST FRIEND. How now, my lords? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026849 | SECOND FRIEND. Know you the quality of Lord Timons fury? THIRD FRIEND. Push! Did you see my cap? FOURTH FRIEND. I have lost my gown. FIRST FRIEND. Hes but a mad lord, and nought but humours sways him. He gave me a jewel th other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you see my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026850 | jewel? THIRD FRIEND. Did you see my cap? SECOND FRIEND. Here tis. FOURTH FRIEND. Here lies my gown. FIRST FRIEND. Lets make no stay. SECOND FRIEND. Lord Timons mad. THIRD FRIEND. I feelt upon my bones. FOURTH FRIEND. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. [_Exeunt._] ACT IV SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens Enter Timon. TIMON. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026851 | Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth 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, Dot in your parents eyes! Bankrupts, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026852 | 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 masters bed, Thy mistress is o th brothel. Son of sixteen, Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026853 | Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood, Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades, Degrees, observances, customs and laws, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026854 | 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 th Athenian bosoms, and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, That their society, as their friendship, may Be merely poison! Nothing Ill bear from thee But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026855 | nakedness, thou detestable town! Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! Timon will to the woods, where he shall find Th unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confoundhear me, you good gods all! Th Athenians both within and out that wall, And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of mankind, high and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026856 | low! Amen. [_Exit._] SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timons house Enter Flavius with two or three Servants. FIRST SERVANT. Hear you, Master Steward, wheres our master? Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining? FLAVIUS. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, I am as poor as you. FIRST SERVANT. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026857 | Such a house broke? So noble a master falln? All gone, and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm And go along with him? SECOND SERVANT. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026858 | purses picked; and his poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all-shunned poverty, Walks, like contempt, alone.More of our fellows. Enter other Servants. FLAVIUS. All broken implements of a ruined house. THIRD SERVANT. Yet do our hearts wear Timons livery. That see I by our faces. We are fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026859 | 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. FLAVIUS. Good fellows all, The latest of my wealth Ill share amongst you. Wherever we shall meet, for Timons sake Lets yet be fellows. Lets shake our heads and say, As twere a knell unto | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026860 | our masters fortune, We have seen better days. Let each take some. [_Offering them money._] Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more. Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. [_They embrace and part several ways._] O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026861 | misery and contempt? Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends? Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood When mans worst sin is he does too much good! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026862 | Who then dares to be half so kind again? For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. My dearest lord, blessed to be most accursed, Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord, Hes flung in rage from this ingrateful seat Of monstrous friends; Nor has he with him to supply | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026863 | his life, Or that which can command it. Ill follow and inquire him out. Ill ever serve his mind with my best will. Whilst I have gold, Ill be his steward still. [_Exit._] SCENE III. Woods and caves near the sea-shore Enter Timon in the woods. TIMON. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity, below thy sisters | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026864 | orb Infect the air! Twinned 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 fortune But by contempt of nature. Raise me this beggar, and denyt that lord; The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026865 | native honour. It is the pasture lards the rothers sides, The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares In purity of manhood stand upright And say, This mans a flatterer? If one be, So are they all, for every grece of fortune Is smoothed by that below. The learned pate Ducks to the golden fool. Alls obliquy. Theres | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026866 | nothing level in our cursed natures But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains. Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! [_Digs in the earth._] Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate With thy most operant poison! What is here? Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026867 | I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will make Black white, foul 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 sides, Pluck stout mens pillows from below their heads. This yellow slave Will knit | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026868 | and break religions, bless th accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves And give them title, knee, and approbation With senators on the bench. This is it That makes the wappened widow wed again; She whom the spittle-house and ulcerous sores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To th April day again. Come, damned earth, Thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026869 | common whore of mankind, that puts odds Among the rout of nations, I will make thee Do thy right nature. [_March afar off._] Ha? A drum? Thourt quick, But yet Ill bury thee. Thoult go, strong thief, When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [_Keeping some gold._] Enter Alcibiades with drum and fife, in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026870 | warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra. ALCIBIADES. What art thou there? Speak. TIMON. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart For showing me again the eyes of man! ALCIBIADES. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee That art thyself a man? TIMON. I am Misanthropos and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026871 | thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something. ALCIBIADES. I know thee well, But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange. TIMON. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee I not desire to know. Follow thy drum, With mans blood paint the ground gules, gules. Religious canons, civil laws are cruel, Then what should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026872 | war be? This fell whore of thine Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, For all her cherubin look. PHRYNIA. Thy lips rot off! TIMON. I will not kiss thee, then the rot returns To thine own lips again. ALCIBIADES. How came the noble Timon to this change? TIMON. As the moon does, by wanting light to give. But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026873 | then renew I could not like the moon; There were no suns to borrow of. ALCIBIADES. Noble Timon, What friendship may I do thee? TIMON. None, but to maintain my opinion. ALCIBIADES. What is it, Timon? TIMON. Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man. If thou dost | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026874 | perform, confound thee, for thou art a man. ALCIBIADES. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. TIMON. Thou sawst 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 th Athenian minion whom the world Voiced so regardfully? TIMON. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026875 | Art thou Timandra? TIMANDRA. Yes. TIMON. Be a whore still, they love thee not that use thee; Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. Make use of thy salt hours. Season the slaves For tubs and baths, bring down rose-cheeked youth To the tub-fast and the diet. TIMANDRA. Hang thee, monster! ALCIBIADES. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026876 | Are drowned and lost in his calamities. I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, The want whereof doth daily make revolt In my penurious band. I have heard and grieved How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, Forgetting thy great deeds when neighbour states, But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them TIMON. I prithee, beat thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026877 | 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? I had rather be alone. ALCIBIADES. Why, fare thee well. Here is some gold for thee. TIMON. Keep it, I cannot eat it. ALCIBIADES. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap TIMON. Warrst | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026878 | thou gainst Athens? ALCIBIADES. Ay, Timon, and have cause. TIMON. The gods confound them all in thy conquest, And thee after, when thou hast conquered! ALCIBIADES. Why me, Timon? TIMON. That by killing of villains Thou wast born to conquer my country. Put up thy gold. Go on, heres gold, go on. Be as a planetary plague when Jove Will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026879 | oer some high-viced city hang his poison In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one. Pity not honoured age for his white beard; He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron; It is her habit only that is honest, Herselfs a bawd. Let not the virgins cheek Make soft thy trenchant sword, for those milk paps That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026880 | through the window-bars bore at mens eyes, Are not within the leaf of pity writ, But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe, Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; Think it a bastard whom the oracle Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse. Swear against objects; Put armour on thine ears | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026881 | and on thine eyes, Whose proof nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. Theres gold to pay thy soldiers. Make large confusion and, thy fury spent, Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. ALCIBIADES. Hast thou gold yet? Ill take the gold thou givst me, Not all thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026882 | counsel. TIMON. Dost thou or dost thou not, heavens curse upon thee! PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more? TIMON. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, Your aprons mountant. You are not oathable, Although I know youll swearterribly swear Into strong shudders and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026883 | to heavenly agues Th immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths, Ill trust to your conditions. Be whores still, And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; Let your close fire predominate his smoke, And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months, Be quite contrary. And thatch | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026884 | your poor thin roofs With burdens of the deadsome that were hanged, No matter; wear them, betray with them. Whore still, Paint till a horse may mire upon your face. A pox of wrinkles! PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Well, more gold. What then? Believet that well do anything for gold. TIMON. Consumptions sow In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026885 | shins, And mar mens spurring. Crack the lawyers voice, That he may never more false title plead Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen, That scolds against the quality of flesh And not believes himself. Down with the nose, Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away Of him that, his particular to foresee, Smells from the general | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026886 | weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald, And let the unscarred braggarts of the war Derive some pain from you. Plague all, That your activity may defeat and quell The source of all erection. Theres more gold. Do you damn others, and let this damn you, And ditches grave you all! PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. TIMON. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026887 | More whore, more mischief first! I have given you earnest. ALCIBIADES. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon. If I thrive well, Ill visit thee again. TIMON. If I hope well, Ill never see thee more. ALCIBIADES. I never did thee harm. TIMON. Yes, thou spokst well of me. ALCIBIADES. Callst thou that harm? TIMON. Men daily find it. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026888 | Get thee away, and take Thy beagles with thee. ALCIBIADES. We but offend him. Strike. [_Drum beats. Exeunt all but Timon._] TIMON. That nature, being sick of mans unkindness, Should yet be hungry! [_He digs_.] Common mother, thou, Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast Teems and feeds all; whose selfsame mettle Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed, Engenders | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026889 | the black toad and adder blue, The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm, With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperions quickening fire doth shine: Yield him who all thy human sons doth hate, From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, Let it no more bring out ingrateful man. Go great | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026890 | with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above Never presented. O, a root, dear thanks! Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas, Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts And morsels unctuous greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips Enter Apemantus. More man? Plague, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026891 | plague! APEMANTUS. I was directed hither. Men report Thou dost affect my manners and dost use them. TIMON. Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee! APEMANTUS. This is in thee a nature but infected, A poor unmanly melancholy sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade, this place? This slave-like habit | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026892 | and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft, Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive By that which has undone thee. Hinge thy knee And let his very breath | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026893 | whom thoult observe Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus; Thou gavst thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome, To knaves and all approachers. Tis most just That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, Rascals should havet. Do not assume my likeness. TIMON. Were I like thee, Id throw | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026894 | away myself. APEMANTUS. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself A madman so long, now a fool. What, thinkst That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these mossed trees, That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels And skip when thou pointst out? Will the cold brook, Candied with ice, caudle thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026895 | morning taste To cure thy oernights surfeit? Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, To the conflicting elements exposed, Answer mere nature, bid them flatter thee. O, thou shalt find TIMON. A fool of thee. Depart. APEMANTUS. I love thee better now than eer I did. TIMON. I hate | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026896 | thee worse. APEMANTUS. Why? TIMON. Thou flatterst 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 villains office or a fools. Dost please thyself int? APEMANTUS. Ay. TIMON. What, a knave too? APEMANTUS. If thou didst put this sour cold habit on To castigate | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026897 | thy pride, twere well; but thou Dost it enforcedly. Thoudst courtier be again Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned before; The one is filling still, never complete, The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse than the worst, content. Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. TIMON. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026898 | Not by his breath that is more miserable. Thou art a slave whom Fortunes tender arm With favour never clasped, but bred a dog. Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded The sweet degrees that this brief world affords To such as may the passive drugs of it Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself In general riot, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000026899 | melted down thy youth In different beds of lust and never learned The icy precepts of respect, but followed The sugared game before thee. But myself Who had the world as my confectionary, The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men At duty, more than I could frame employment, That numberless upon me stuck as leaves Do on | 60 | gutenberg |
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