Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.—
What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,
Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
Burn, house; sink, Athens! henceforth hated be
Of Timon, man, and all humanity. [Exit.

Re-enter the Lords, with other Lords and Senators.

1st Lord. How now, my lords?

2nd Lord. Know you the quality of lord Timon's fury?

3rd Lord. Pish! did you see my cap? 4th Lord. I have lost my gown.

3rd Lord. He's but a mad lord, and nought

but humour sways him. He gave me a jewel the other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you see my jewel?

4th Lord. Did you see my cap?

2nd Lord. Here 'tis.
4th Lord. Here lies my gown.
1st Lord. Let's make no stay.
2nd Lord. Lord Timon's mad.
3rd Lord. I feel't upon my bones.

4th Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next [Exeunt.

day stones.

O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery and contempt?
Who'd 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 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,-blessed to be most accursed,
Rich only to be wretched,―thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful seat
Of monstrous friends:

Nor has he with him to supply his life,

Or that which can command it.

I'll follow, and inquire him out:
I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still.

SCENE III.-The Woods.

Enter TIMON.

[Exit.

Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth

Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
Infect the air!-Twinned brothers of one womb,-
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarce is dividant,-touch them with several for-

tunes;

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 denude that lord;
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,

The beggar native honour.

It is the pasture lards the brother'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 smoothed by that below: the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique ;
There's nothing level in our curséd natures,
But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorred
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains :
Destruction fang mankind!-Earth, yield me
roots!
[Digging.
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison !—What is here?
Gold?-yellow, glittering, precious gold?-
No, gods, 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 men's pillows from below their heads:
This yellow slave

Will knit and break religions; bless the 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 spital-house and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To the April day again. Come, damnéd earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature. [March afar off.] Ha! a
drum?-Thou 'rt quick,

But yet I'll bury thee. Thou 'lt 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 warlike manner: PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA.

Alcib. Speak, what art thou there?

Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart.

For shewing me again the eyes of man! Alcib. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,

That art thyself a man?

Tim. I am misanthropos, and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.

Tim. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns To thine own lips again.

Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this change? Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give: But then renew I could not, like the moon ; There were no suns to borrow of.

Alcib. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?

Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion.
Alcib. What is it, Timon?

Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none. -If thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man!—if thou dost perform, confound thee, for thou 'rt a man!

Alcib. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity. Alcib.I see them now; then was a blessed time. Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of

Alcib. Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits 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,— Tim. I pr'y thee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

Alcib. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. Tim. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?

I had rather be alone.

Alcib.

Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim. The gods confound them all i'thy conquest; and thee after, when thou hast conquered! Alcib. Why me, Timon?

Tim. That, by killing of villains, thou wast born to conquer my country.

Put up thy gold: Go on,-here's gold,—go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
Will o'er 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's an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,

Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milkpaps

That through the window-bars bore at men's 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, and on thine eyes; Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor

And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,Although I know you'll swear, terribly swear, Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues, The immortal gods that hear you,-spare your

oaths;

I'll 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,

In hollow bones of men; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's 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 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.-There's more gold:
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

Phry. More counsel with more money, boun-
Timan. S teous Timon.

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

Alcib. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon;

If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.
Alcib. I never did thee harm.
Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
Alcib. Call'st thou that harm?

Tim. Men daily find it. Get thee away,
And take thy beagles with thee.

Alcib.

Strike.

We but offend him.

[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA.

Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkind

ness,

Should yet be hungry!-Common mother, thou, [Digging.

Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast
Teems and feeds all; whose self-same mettle
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed,
Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venomed worm,
With all the abhorréd births below crisp heaven
Whereon Hyperion's 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 with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented!-0, 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! plague!

Apem. I was directed hither: Men report Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. Tim. Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a

dog

Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
From change of fortune. Why this spade? this

place?

This slave-like habit? 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 whom thou 'lt observe
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus ;
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid wel-

come

To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my like

ness.

Tim. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself. Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like

thyself;

A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st 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 point'st out? Will the cold brook,

Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures,
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhouséd trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee!
O! thou shalt find,-