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I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
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Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
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,
Romeo and Juliet
, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
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In
Timon of Athens
, Lord Timon discovers the limits of wealth and friendship. He spends freely on others and hosts banquets for many guests. Despite his servants’ warnings, he spends so excessively that his money runs out—and the philosopher Apemantus condemns his flatterers as insincere.
Soon Timon’s creditors begin to call in their loans. Timon expects help from his friends, but they all refuse him money. Furious, he invites them again to a banquet, but serves only water and stones before he dismisses them, cursing Athens. He exiles himself to a wilderness.
There the embittered Timon finds gold. He gives some to enemies of Athens and to prostitutes and bandits. When senators beg him to return to Athens as a military leader to save the city from his banished friend Alcibiades, he refuses and retreats to a cave to die. Alcibiades defeats Athens but promises to protect the city and its citizens. Learning of the despairing inscription on Timon’s tombstone, he repeats his offer of bringing peace to the city.
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
Poet
,
Painter
,
Jeweler
,
and
Merchant
,
at
several
doors
.
Good
day
,
sir
.
I
am
glad
you’re
well
.
I
have
not
seen
you
long
.
How
goes
the
world
?
It
wears
,
sir
,
as
it
grows
.
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
.
I
know
them
both
.
Th’
other’s
a
jeweler
.
,
to
Jeweler
O
,
’tis
a
worthy
lord
!
Nay
,
that’s
most
fixed
.
A
most
incomparable
man
,
breathed
,
as
it
were
,
To
an
untirable
and
continuate
goodness
.
He
passes
.
I
have
a
jewel
here
—
O
,
pray
,
let’s
see
’t
.
For
the
Lord
Timon
,
sir
?
ACT 1. SC. 1
If
he
will
touch
the
estimate
.
But
for
that
—
,
to
Painter
When
we
for
recompense
have
praised
the
vile
,
It
stains
the
glory
in
that
happy
verse
Which
aptly
sings
the
good
.
,
looking
at
the
jewel
’Tis
a
good
form
.
And
rich
.
Here
is
a
water
,
look
ye
.
,
to
Poet
You
are
rapt
,
sir
,
in
some
work
,
some
dedication
To
the
great
lord
.
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
chases
.
What
have
you
there
?
A
picture
,
sir
.
When
comes
your
book
forth
?
Upon
the
heels
of
my
presentment
,
sir
.
Let’s
see
your
piece
.
’Tis
a
good
piece
.
So
’tis
.
This
comes
off
well
and
excellent
.
Indifferent
.
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
.
It
is
a
pretty
mocking
of
the
life
.
Here
is
a
touch
.
Is
’t
good
?
ACT 1. SC. 1
I
will
say
of
it
,
It
tutors
nature
.
Artificial
strife
Lives
in
these
touches
livelier
than
life
.
Enter
certain
Senators
.
How
this
lord
is
followed
.
The
senators
of
Athens
,
happy
men
.
Look
,
more
.
You
see
this
confluence
,
this
great
flood
of
visitors
.
(
Indicating
his
poem
.
)
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
wax
.
No
leveled
malice
Infects
one
comma
in
the
course
I
hold
,
But
flies
an
eagle
flight
,
bold
and
forth
on
,
Leaving
no
tract
behind
.
How
shall
I
understand
you
?
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
.
I
saw
them
speak
together
.
Sir
,
I
have
upon
a
high
and
pleasant
hill
ACT 1. SC. 1
Feigned
Fortune
to
be
throned
.
The
base
o’
th’
mount
Is
ranked
with
all
deserts
,
all
kind
of
natures
That
labor
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
.
’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
.
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
.
Ay
,
marry
,
what
of
these
?
When
Fortune
in
her
shift
and
change
of
mood
Spurns
down
her
late
beloved
,
all
his
dependants
,
Which
labored
after
him
to
the
mountain’s
top
Even
on
their
knees
and
hands
,
let
him
slip
down
,
Not
one
accompanying
his
declining
foot
.
’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
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
Trumpets
sound
.
Enter
Lord
Timon
,
addressing
himself
courteously
to
every
suitor
.
He
is
accompanied
by
a
Messenger
and
followed
by
Lucilius
and
other
Servants
.
Imprisoned
is
he
,
say
you
?
Ay
,
my
good
lord
.
Five
talents
is
his
debt
,
His
means
most
short
,
his
creditors
most
strait
.
Your
honorable
letter
he
desires
To
those
have
shut
him
up
,
which
failing
Periods
his
comfort
.
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
.
Your
Lordship
ever
binds
him
.
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
.
All
happiness
to
your
Honor
.
He
exits
.
Enter
an
old
Athenian
.
Lord
Timon
,
hear
me
speak
.
Freely
,
good
father
.
Thou
hast
a
servant
named
Lucilius
.
I
have
so
.
What
of
him
?
Most
noble
Timon
,
call
the
man
before
thee
.
Attends
he
here
or
no
?
—
Lucilius
!
ACT 1. SC. 1
Here
,
at
your
Lordship’s
service
.
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
.
Well
.
What
further
?
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
.
The
man
is
honest
.
Therefore
he
will
be
,
Timon
.
His
honesty
rewards
him
in
itself
;
It
must
not
bear
my
daughter
.
Does
she
love
him
?
She
is
young
and
apt
.
Our
own
precedent
passions
do
instruct
us
What
levity’s
in
youth
.
,
to
Lucilius
Love
you
the
maid
?
Ay
,
my
good
lord
,
and
she
accepts
of
it
.
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
.
How
shall
she
be
endowed
If
she
be
mated
with
an
equal
husband
?
ACT 1. SC. 1
Three
talents
on
the
present
;
in
future
,
all
.
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
.
Most
noble
lord
,
Pawn
me
to
this
your
honor
,
she
is
his
.
My
hand
to
thee
;
mine
honor
on
my
promise
.
Humbly
I
thank
your
Lordship
.
Never
may
That
state
or
fortune
fall
into
my
keeping
Which
is
not
owed
to
you
.
He
exits
with
the
old
Athenian
.
,
presenting
his
poem
to
Timon
Vouchsafe
my
labor
,
and
long
live
your
Lordship
.
I
thank
you
.
You
shall
hear
from
me
anon
.
Go
not
away
.
—
What
have
you
there
,
my
friend
?
A
piece
of
painting
which
I
do
beseech
Your
Lordship
to
accept
.
Painting
is
welcome
.
The
painting
is
almost
the
natural
man
,
For
,
since
dishonor
traffics
with
man’s
nature
,
He
is
but
outside
;
these
penciled
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
.
The
gods
preserve
you
.
Well
fare
you
,
gentleman
.
Give
me
your
hand
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
We
must
needs
dine
together
.
—
Sir
,
your
jewel
Hath
suffered
under
praise
.
What
,
my
lord
?
Dispraise
?
A
mere
satiety
of
commendations
.
If
I
should
pay
you
for
’t
as
’tis
extolled
,
It
would
unclew
me
quite
.
My
lord
,
’tis
rated
As
those
which
sell
would
give
.
But
you
well
know
Things
of
like
value
,
differing
in
the
owners
,
Are
prizèd
by
their
masters
.
Believe
’t
,
dear
lord
,
You
mend
the
jewel
by
the
wearing
it
.
Well
mocked
.
No
,
my
good
lord
.
He
speaks
the
common
tongue
,
Which
all
men
speak
with
him
.
Enter
Apemantus
.
Look
who
comes
here
.
Will
you
be
chid
?
We’ll
bear
,
with
your
Lordship
.
He’ll
spare
none
.
Good
morrow
to
thee
,
gentle
Apemantus
.
Till
I
be
gentle
,
stay
thou
for
thy
good
morrow
—
When
thou
art
Timon’s
dog
,
and
these
knaves
honest
.
Why
dost
thou
call
them
knaves
?
Thou
know’st
them
not
.
Are
they
not
Athenians
?
Yes
.
Then
I
repent
not
.
You
know
me
,
Apemantus
?
Thou
know’st
I
do
.
I
called
thee
by
thy
name
.
Thou
art
proud
,
Apemantus
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
Of
nothing
so
much
as
that
I
am
not
like
Timon
.
Whither
art
going
?
To
knock
out
an
honest
Athenian’s
brains
.
That’s
a
deed
thou
’lt
die
for
.
Right
,
if
doing
nothing
be
death
by
th’
law
.
How
lik’st
thou
this
picture
,
Apemantus
?
The
best
,
for
the
innocence
.
Wrought
he
not
well
that
painted
it
?
He
wrought
better
that
made
the
painter
,
and
yet
he’s
but
a
filthy
piece
of
work
.
You’re
a
dog
.
Thy
mother’s
of
my
generation
.
What’s
she
,
if
I
be
a
dog
?
Wilt
dine
with
me
,
Apemantus
?
No
.
I
eat
not
lords
.
An
thou
shouldst
,
thou
’dst
anger
ladies
.
O
,
they
eat
lords
.
So
they
come
by
great
bellies
.
That’s
a
lascivious
apprehension
.
So
thou
apprehend’st
it
.
Take
it
for
thy
labor
.
How
dost
thou
like
this
jewel
,
Apemantus
?
Not
so
well
as
plain-dealing
,
which
will
not
cost
a
man
a
doit
.
What
dost
thou
think
’tis
worth
?
Not
worth
my
thinking
.
—
How
now
,
poet
?
How
now
,
philosopher
?
Thou
liest
.
Art
not
one
?
Yes
.
Then
I
lie
not
.
Art
not
a
poet
?
Yes
.
Then
thou
liest
.
Look
in
thy
last
work
,
where
thou
hast
feigned
him
a
worthy
fellow
.
ACT 1. SC. 1
That’s
not
feigned
.
He
is
so
.
Yes
,
he
is
worthy
of
thee
,
and
to
pay
thee
for
thy
labor
.
He
that
loves
to
be
flattered
is
worthy
o’
th’
flatterer
.
Heavens
,
that
I
were
a
lord
!
What
wouldst
do
then
,
Apemantus
?
E’en
as
Apemantus
does
now
—
hate
a
lord
with
my
heart
.
What
?
Thyself
?
Ay
.
Wherefore
?
That
I
had
no
angry
wit
to
be
a
lord
.
—
Art
not
thou
a
merchant
?
Ay
,
Apemantus
.
Traffic
confound
thee
,
if
the
gods
will
not
.
If
traffic
do
it
,
the
gods
do
it
.
Traffic’s
thy
god
,
and
thy
god
confound
thee
!
Trumpet
sounds
.
Enter
a
Messenger
.
What
trumpet’s
that
?
’Tis
Alcibiades
and
some
twenty
horse
,
All
of
companionship
.
Pray
,
entertain
them
.
Give
them
guide
to
us
.
Some
Servants
exit
with
Messenger
.
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
.
They
bow
to
each
other
.
,
apart
So
,
so
,
there
!
Aches
contract
and
starve
your
supple
joints
!
That
there
should
be
small
love
amongst
these
sweet
knaves
,
ACT 1. SC. 1
And
all
this
courtesy
!
The
strain
of
man’s
bred
out
Into
baboon
and
monkey
.
,
to
Timon
Sir
,
you
have
saved
my
longing
,
and
I
feed
Most
hungerly
on
your
sight
.
Right
welcome
,
sir
.
Ere
we
depart
,
we’ll
share
a
bounteous
time
In
different
pleasures
.
Pray
you
,
let
us
in
.
All
but
Apemantus
exit
.
Enter
two
Lords
.
What
time
o’
day
is
’t
,
Apemantus
?
Time
to
be
honest
.
That
time
serves
still
.
The
most
accursèd
thou
,
that
still
omit’st
it
.
Thou
art
going
to
Lord
Timon’s
feast
?
Ay
,
to
see
meat
fill
knaves
,
and
wine
heat
fools
.
Fare
thee
well
,
fare
thee
well
.
Thou
art
a
fool
to
bid
me
farewell
twice
.
Why
,
Apemantus
?
Shouldst
have
kept
one
to
thyself
,
for
I
mean
to
give
thee
none
.
Hang
thyself
.
No
,
I
will
do
nothing
at
thy
bidding
.
Make
thy
requests
to
thy
friend
.
Away
,
unpeaceable
dog
,
or
I’ll
spurn
thee
hence
.
I
will
fly
,
like
a
dog
,
the
heels
o’
th’
ass
.
He
exits
.
He’s
opposite
to
humanity
.
Come
,
shall
we
in
ACT 1. SC. 2
And
taste
Lord
Timon’s
bounty
?
He
outgoes
The
very
heart
of
kindness
.
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
.
The
noblest
mind
he
carries
That
ever
governed
man
.
Long
may
he
live
in
fortunes
.
Shall
we
in
?
I’ll
keep
you
company
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Hautboys
playing
loud
music
.
A
great
banquet
served
in
,
and
then
enter
Lord
Timon
,
the
States
,
the
Athenian
Lords
(
including
Lucius
)
,
Alcibiades
,
and
Ventidius
(
which
Timon
redeemed
from
prison
)
.
Flavius
and
others
are
in
attendance
.
Then
comes
dropping
after
all
Apemantus
discontentedly
like
himself
.
Most
honored
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
.
He
offers
a
purse
.
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
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
If
our
betters
play
at
that
game
,
we
must
not
dare
To
imitate
them
.
Faults
that
are
rich
are
fair
.
A
noble
spirit
!
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
you
to
my
fortunes
Than
my
fortunes
to
me
.
They
sit
.
My
lord
,
we
always
have
confessed
it
.
Ho
,
ho
,
confessed
it
?
Hanged
it
,
have
you
not
?
O
Apemantus
,
you
are
welcome
.
No
,
you
shall
not
make
me
welcome
.
I
come
to
have
thee
thrust
me
out
of
doors
.
Fie
,
thou
’rt
a
churl
.
You’ve
got
a
humor
there
Does
not
become
a
man
.
’Tis
much
to
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
.
Let
me
stay
at
thine
apperil
,
Timon
.
I
come
to
observe
;
I
give
thee
warning
on
’t
.
I
take
no
heed
of
thee
.
Thou
’rt
an
Athenian
,
therefore
welcome
.
I
myself
would
have
no
power
;
prithee
,
let
my
meat
make
thee
silent
.
I
scorn
thy
meat
.
’Twould
choke
me
,
for
I
should
ne’er
flatter
thee
.
(
Apart
.
)
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
too
.
I
wonder
men
dare
trust
themselves
with
men
.
Methinks
they
should
invite
them
without
knives
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
draft
,
is
the
readiest
man
to
kill
him
.
’T
’as
been
proved
.
If
I
were
a
huge
man
,
I
should
fear
to
drink
at
meals
,
Lest
they
should
spy
my
wind-pipe’s
dangerous
notes
.
Great
men
should
drink
with
harness
on
their
throats
.
,
responding
to
a
toast
My
lord
,
in
heart
!
And
let
the
health
go
round
.
Let
it
flow
this
way
,
my
good
lord
.
,
apart
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’
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
!
Captain
Alcibiades
,
your
heart’s
in
the
field
now
.
My
heart
is
ever
at
your
service
,
my
lord
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
You
had
rather
be
at
a
breakfast
of
enemies
than
a
dinner
of
friends
.
So
they
were
bleeding
new
,
my
lord
,
there’s
no
meat
like
’em
.
I
could
wish
my
best
friend
at
such
a
feast
.
,
apart
Would
all
those
flatterers
were
thine
enemies
,
then
,
that
then
thou
mightst
kill
’em
and
bid
me
to
’em
.
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
forever
perfect
.
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
.
,
apart
Thou
weep’st
to
make
them
drink
,
Timon
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Joy
had
the
like
conception
in
our
eyes
And
,
at
that
instant
,
like
a
babe
sprung
up
.
,
apart
Ho
,
ho
!
I
laugh
to
think
that
babe
a
bastard
.
I
promise
you
,
my
lord
,
you
moved
me
much
.
,
apart
Much
!
Sound
tucket
.
What
means
that
trump
?
Enter
Servant
.
How
now
?
Please
you
,
my
lord
,
there
are
certain
ladies
most
desirous
of
admittance
.
Ladies
?
What
are
their
wills
?
There
comes
with
them
a
forerunner
,
my
lord
,
which
bears
that
office
to
signify
their
pleasures
.
I
pray
,
let
them
be
admitted
.
Servant
exits
.
Enter
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
.
There
Taste
,
touch
,
all
,
pleased
from
thy
table
rise
;
They
only
now
come
but
to
feast
thine
eyes
.
They’re
welcome
all
.
Let
’em
have
kind
admittance
.
Music
,
make
their
welcome
!
You
see
,
my
lord
,
how
ample
you’re
beloved
.
Music
.
Enter
the
masque
of
Ladies
as
Amazons
,
with
lutes
in
their
hands
,
dancing
and
playing
.
,
apart
Hoy-day
!
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
depravèd
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
’as
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
.
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
luster
,
And
entertained
me
with
mine
own
device
.
I
am
to
thank
you
for
’t
.
My
lord
,
you
take
us
even
at
the
best
.
,
apart
Faith
,
for
the
worst
is
filthy
and
would
not
hold
taking
,
I
doubt
me
.
Ladies
,
there
is
an
idle
banquet
attends
you
.
Please
you
to
dispose
yourselves
.
Most
thankfully
,
my
lord
.
Cupid
and
Ladies
exit
.
Flavius
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
My
lord
?
The
little
casket
bring
me
hither
.
Yes
,
my
lord
.
(
Aside
.
)
More
jewels
yet
?
There
is
no
crossing
him
in
’s
humor
;
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
.
He
exits
.
Where
be
our
men
?
Here
,
my
lord
,
in
readiness
.
Our
horses
.
Enter
Flavius
,
with
the
casket
.
O
my
friends
,
I
have
one
word
To
say
to
you
.
Look
you
,
my
good
lord
,
I
must
entreat
you
,
honor
me
so
much
As
to
advance
this
jewel
.
Accept
it
and
wear
it
,
Kind
my
lord
.
I
am
so
far
already
in
your
gifts
—
So
are
we
all
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
My
lord
,
there
are
certain
nobles
of
the
Senate
Newly
alighted
and
come
to
visit
you
.
They
are
fairly
welcome
.
Servant
exits
.
I
beseech
your
Honor
,
Vouchsafe
me
a
word
.
It
does
concern
you
near
.
Near
?
Why
,
then
,
another
time
I’ll
hear
thee
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
I
prithee
,
let’s
be
provided
to
show
them
entertainment
.
,
aside
I
scarce
know
how
.
Enter
another
Servant
.
May
it
please
your
Honor
,
Lord
Lucius
,
Out
of
his
free
love
,
hath
presented
to
you
Four
milk-white
horses
trapped
in
silver
.
I
shall
accept
them
fairly
.
Let
the
presents
Be
worthily
entertained
.
Servant
exits
.
Enter
a
third
Servant
.
How
now
?
What
news
?
Please
you
,
my
lord
,
that
honorable
gentleman
Lord
Lucullus
entreats
your
company
tomorrow
to
hunt
with
him
and
has
sent
your
Honor
two
brace
of
greyhounds
.
I’ll
hunt
with
him
;
and
let
them
be
received
,
Not
without
fair
reward
.
Servant
exits
.
,
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
ev’ry
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
ACT 1. SC. 2
Than
such
that
do
e’en
enemies
exceed
.
I
bleed
inwardly
for
my
lord
.
He
exits
.
,
to
Lords
You
do
yourselves
much
wrong
.
You
bate
too
much
of
your
own
merits
.
(
Offering
a
gift
.
)
Here
,
my
lord
,
a
trifle
of
our
love
.
With
more
than
common
thanks
I
will
receive
it
.
O
,
he’s
the
very
soul
of
bounty
!
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
.
O
,
I
beseech
you
,
pardon
me
,
my
lord
,
in
that
.
You
may
take
my
word
,
my
lord
.
I
know
no
man
Can
justly
praise
but
what
he
does
affect
.
I
weigh
my
friends’
affection
with
mine
own
.
I’ll
tell
you
true
,
I’ll
call
to
you
.
O
,
none
so
welcome
.
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
.
Ay
,
defiled
land
,
my
lord
.
We
are
so
virtuously
bound
—
And
so
am
I
to
you
.
So
infinitely
endeared
—
All
to
you
.
—
Lights
,
more
lights
.
The
best
of
happiness
,
honor
,
and
fortunes
Keep
with
you
,
Lord
Timon
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
Ready
for
his
friends
.
All
but
Timon
and
Apemantus
exit
.
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
court’sies
.
Now
,
Apemantus
,
if
thou
wert
not
sullen
,
I
would
be
good
to
thee
.
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
giv’st
so
long
,
Timon
,
I
fear
me
thou
wilt
give
away
thyself
in
paper
shortly
.
What
needs
these
feasts
,
pomps
,
and
vainglories
?
Nay
,
an
you
begin
to
rail
on
society
once
,
I
am
sworn
not
to
give
regard
to
you
.
Farewell
,
and
come
with
better
music
.
He
exits
.
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
!
He
exits
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
a
Senator
,
with
papers
.
And
late
five
thousand
.
To
Varro
and
to
Isidore
He
owes
nine
thousand
,
besides
my
former
sum
,
Which
makes
it
five-and-twenty
.
Still
in
motion
Of
raging
waste
!
It
cannot
hold
;
it
will
not
.
If
I
want
gold
,
steal
but
a
beggar’s
dog
And
give
it
Timon
,
why
,
the
dog
coins
gold
.
If
I
would
sell
my
horse
and
buy
twenty
more
Better
than
he
,
why
,
give
my
horse
to
Timon
—
Ask
nothing
;
give
it
him
—
it
foals
me
straight
,
And
able
horses
.
No
porter
at
his
gate
But
rather
one
that
smiles
and
still
invites
All
that
pass
by
.
It
cannot
hold
.
No
reason
Can
sound
his
state
in
safety
.
—
Caphis
,
ho
!
Caphis
,
I
say
!
Enter
Caphis
.
Here
,
sir
.
What
is
your
pleasure
?
Get
on
your
cloak
and
haste
you
to
Lord
Timon
.
Importune
him
for
my
moneys
.
Be
not
ceased
With
slight
denial
,
nor
then
silenced
when
Commend
me
to
your
master
and
the
cap
Plays
in
the
right
hand
thus
;
but
tell
him
My
uses
cry
to
me
.
I
must
serve
my
turn
ACT 2. SC. 2
Out
of
mine
own
.
His
days
and
times
are
past
,
And
my
reliances
on
his
fracted
dates
Have
smit
my
credit
.
I
love
and
honor
him
But
must
not
break
my
back
to
heal
his
finger
.
Immediate
are
my
needs
,
and
my
relief
Must
not
be
tossed
and
turned
to
me
in
words
But
find
supply
immediate
.
Get
you
gone
.
Put
on
a
most
importunate
aspect
,
A
visage
of
demand
,
for
I
do
fear
When
every
feather
sticks
in
his
own
wing
Lord
Timon
will
be
left
a
naked
gull
,
Which
flashes
now
a
phoenix
.
Get
you
gone
.
I
go
,
sir
.
I
go
,
sir
?
Take
the
bonds
along
with
you
And
have
the
dates
in
.
Come
.
He
hands
Caphis
papers
.
I
will
,
sir
.
Go
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Steward
Flavius
,
with
many
bills
in
his
hand
.
No
care
,
no
stop
,
so
senseless
of
expense
That
he
will
neither
know
how
to
maintain
it
Nor
cease
his
flow
of
riot
.
Takes
no
account
How
things
go
from
him
nor
resumes
no
care
Of
what
is
to
continue
.
Never
mind
Was
to
be
so
unwise
to
be
so
kind
.
What
shall
be
done
?
He
will
not
hear
till
feel
.
I
must
be
round
with
him
,
now
he
comes
from
hunting
.
Fie
,
fie
,
fie
,
fie
!
ACT 2. SC. 2
Enter
Caphis
,
and
the
Men
of
Isidore
and
Varro
.
Good
even
,
Varro
.
What
,
you
come
for
money
?
Is
’t
not
your
business
too
?
It
is
.
And
yours
too
,
Isidore
?
It
is
so
.
Would
we
were
all
discharged
!
I
fear
it
.
Here
comes
the
lord
.
Enter
Timon
,
and
his
train
,
with
Alcibiades
.
So
soon
as
dinner’s
done
we’ll
forth
again
,
My
Alcibiades
.
(
To
Caphis
.
)
With
me
?
What
is
your
will
?
,
offering
Timon
a
paper
My
lord
,
here
is
a
note
of
certain
dues
.
Dues
?
Whence
are
you
?
Of
Athens
here
,
my
lord
.
Go
to
my
steward
.
Please
it
your
Lordship
,
he
hath
put
me
off
To
the
succession
of
new
days
this
month
.
My
master
is
awaked
by
great
occasion
To
call
upon
his
own
and
humbly
prays
you
That
with
your
other
noble
parts
you’ll
suit
In
giving
him
his
right
.
Mine
honest
friend
,
I
prithee
but
repair
to
me
next
morning
.
Nay
,
good
my
lord
—
Contain
thyself
,
good
friend
.
,
offering
a
paper
One
Varro’s
servant
,
my
good
lord
—
ACT 2. SC. 2
,
offering
a
paper
From
Isidore
.
He
humbly
prays
your
speedy
payment
.
If
you
did
know
,
my
lord
,
my
master’s
wants
—
’Twas
due
on
forfeiture
,
my
lord
,
six
weeks
and
past
.
Your
steward
puts
me
off
,
my
lord
,
and
I
Am
sent
expressly
to
your
Lordship
.
Give
me
breath
.
—
I
do
beseech
you
,
good
my
lords
,
keep
on
.
I’ll
wait
upon
you
instantly
.
Alcibiades
and
Timon’s
train
exit
.
To
Flavius
.
Come
hither
.
Pray
you
,
How
goes
the
world
that
I
am
thus
encountered
With
clamorous
demands
of
debt
,
broken
bonds
,
And
the
detention
of
long-since-due
debts
Against
my
honor
?
,
to
the
creditors’
Men
Please
you
,
gentlemen
,
The
time
is
unagreeable
to
this
business
.
Your
importunacy
cease
till
after
dinner
,
That
I
may
make
his
Lordship
understand
Wherefore
you
are
not
paid
.
Do
so
,
my
friends
.
—
See
them
well
entertained
.
Pray
,
draw
near
.
Timon
and
Flavius
exit
.
Enter
Apemantus
and
Fool
.
Stay
,
stay
,
here
comes
the
Fool
with
Apemantus
.
Let’s
ha’
some
sport
with
’em
.
Hang
him
!
He’ll
abuse
us
.
A
plague
upon
him
,
dog
!
How
dost
,
Fool
?
Dost
dialogue
with
thy
shadow
?
I
speak
not
to
thee
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
No
,
’tis
to
thyself
.
(
To
the
Fool
.
)
Come
away
.
,
to
Varro’s
Man
There’s
the
fool
hangs
on
your
back
already
.
No
,
thou
stand’st
single
;
thou
’rt
not
on
him
yet
.
,
to
Isidore’s
Man
Where’s
the
fool
now
?
He
last
asked
the
question
.
Poor
rogues
and
usurers’
men
,
bawds
between
gold
and
want
.
What
are
we
,
Apemantus
?
Asses
.
Why
?
That
you
ask
me
what
you
are
,
and
do
not
know
yourselves
.
—
Speak
to
’em
,
Fool
.
How
do
you
,
gentlemen
?
Gramercies
,
good
Fool
.
How
does
your
mistress
?
She’s
e’en
setting
on
water
to
scald
such
chickens
as
you
are
.
Would
we
could
see
you
at
Corinth
!
Good
.
Gramercy
.
Enter
Page
.
Look
you
,
here
comes
my
master’s
page
.
,
to
Fool
Why
,
how
now
,
captain
?
What
do
you
in
this
wise
company
?
—
How
dost
thou
,
Apemantus
?
Would
I
had
a
rod
in
my
mouth
that
I
might
answer
thee
profitably
.
Prithee
,
Apemantus
,
read
me
the
superscription
of
these
letters
.
I
know
not
which
is
which
.
He
shows
some
papers
.
Canst
not
read
?
No
.
There
will
little
learning
die
,
then
,
that
day
thou
art
hanged
.
This
is
to
Lord
Timon
,
this
to
Alcibiades
.
Go
.
Thou
wast
born
a
bastard
,
and
thou
’lt
die
a
bawd
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Thou
wast
whelped
a
dog
,
and
thou
shalt
famish
a
dog’s
death
.
Answer
not
.
I
am
gone
.
He
exits
.
E’en
so
thou
outrunn’st
grace
.
—
Fool
,
I
will
go
with
you
to
Lord
Timon’s
.
Will
you
leave
me
there
?
If
Timon
stay
at
home
.
—
You
three
serve
three
usurers
?
Ay
.
Would
they
served
us
!
So
would
I
—
as
good
a
trick
as
ever
hangman
served
thief
.
Are
you
three
usurers’
men
?
Ay
,
fool
.
I
think
no
usurer
but
has
a
fool
to
his
servant
.
My
mistress
is
one
,
and
I
am
her
Fool
.
When
men
come
to
borrow
of
your
masters
,
they
approach
sadly
and
go
away
merry
,
but
they
enter
my
master’s
house
merrily
and
go
away
sadly
.
The
reason
of
this
?
I
could
render
one
.
Do
it
then
,
that
we
may
account
thee
a
whoremaster
and
a
knave
,
which
notwithstanding
,
thou
shalt
be
no
less
esteemed
.
What
is
a
whoremaster
,
fool
?
A
fool
in
good
clothes
,
and
something
like
thee
.
’Tis
a
spirit
;
sometime
’t
appears
like
a
lord
,
sometime
like
a
lawyer
,
sometime
like
a
philosopher
,
with
two
stones
more
than
’s
artificial
one
.
He
is
very
often
like
a
knight
,
and
generally
in
all
shapes
that
man
goes
up
and
down
in
from
fourscore
to
thirteen
,
this
spirit
walks
in
.
Thou
art
not
altogether
a
Fool
.
Nor
thou
altogether
a
wise
man
.
As
much
foolery
as
I
have
,
so
much
wit
thou
lack’st
.
That
answer
might
have
become
Apemantus
.
Aside
,
aside
!
Here
comes
Lord
Timon
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Enter
Timon
and
Steward
Flavius
.
Come
with
me
,
fool
,
come
.
I
do
not
always
follow
lover
,
elder
brother
,
and
woman
;
sometime
the
philosopher
.
Apemantus
and
the
Fool
exit
.
,
to
the
creditors’
Men
Pray
you
,
walk
near
.
I’ll
speak
with
you
anon
.
The
Men
exit
.
You
make
me
marvel
wherefore
ere
this
time
Had
you
not
fully
laid
my
state
before
me
,
That
I
might
so
have
rated
my
expense
As
I
had
leave
of
means
.
You
would
not
hear
me
.
At
many
leisures
I
proposed
—
Go
to
.
Perchance
some
single
vantages
you
took
When
my
indisposition
put
you
back
,
And
that
unaptness
made
your
minister
Thus
to
excuse
yourself
.
O
,
my
good
lord
,
At
many
times
I
brought
in
my
accounts
,
Laid
them
before
you
.
You
would
throw
them
off
And
say
you
found
them
in
mine
honesty
.
When
for
some
trifling
present
you
have
bid
me
Return
so
much
,
I
have
shook
my
head
and
wept
—
Yea
,
’gainst
th’
authority
of
manners
prayed
you
To
hold
your
hand
more
close
.
I
did
endure
Not
seldom
nor
no
slight
checks
when
I
have
Prompted
you
in
the
ebb
of
your
estate
And
your
great
flow
of
debts
.
My
lovèd
lord
,
Though
you
hear
now
too
late
,
yet
now’s
a
time
.
The
greatest
of
your
having
lacks
a
half
To
pay
your
present
debts
.
Let
all
my
land
be
sold
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
’Tis
all
engaged
,
some
forfeited
and
gone
,
And
what
remains
will
hardly
stop
the
mouth
Of
present
dues
.
The
future
comes
apace
.
What
shall
defend
the
interim
?
And
at
length
How
goes
our
reck’ning
?
To
Lacedaemon
did
my
land
extend
.
O
my
good
lord
,
the
world
is
but
a
word
.
Were
it
all
yours
to
give
it
in
a
breath
,
How
quickly
were
it
gone
!
You
tell
me
true
.
If
you
suspect
my
husbandry
of
falsehood
,
Call
me
before
th’
exactest
auditors
,
And
set
me
on
the
proof
.
So
the
gods
bless
me
,
When
all
our
offices
have
been
oppressed
With
riotous
feeders
,
when
our
vaults
have
wept
With
drunken
spilth
of
wine
,
when
every
room
Hath
blazed
with
lights
and
brayed
with
minstrelsy
,
I
have
retired
me
to
a
wasteful
cock
And
set
mine
eyes
at
flow
.
Prithee
,
no
more
.
Heavens
,
have
I
said
,
the
bounty
of
this
lord
!
How
many
prodigal
bits
have
slaves
and
peasants
This
night
englutted
.
Who
is
not
Timon’s
?
What
heart
,
head
,
sword
,
force
,
means
,
but
is
Lord
Timon’s
?
Great
Timon
,
noble
,
worthy
,
royal
Timon
!
Ah
,
when
the
means
are
gone
that
buy
this
praise
,
The
breath
is
gone
whereof
this
praise
is
made
.
Feast-won
,
fast-lost
.
One
cloud
of
winter
showers
,
These
flies
are
couched
.
Come
,
sermon
me
no
further
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
No
villainous
bounty
yet
hath
passed
my
heart
;
Unwisely
,
not
ignobly
,
have
I
given
.
Why
dost
thou
weep
?
Canst
thou
the
conscience
lack
To
think
I
shall
lack
friends
?
Secure
thy
heart
.
If
I
would
broach
the
vessels
of
my
love
And
try
the
argument
of
hearts
by
borrowing
,
Men
and
men’s
fortunes
could
I
frankly
use
As
I
can
bid
thee
speak
.
Assurance
bless
your
thoughts
!
And
in
some
sort
these
wants
of
mine
are
crowned
,
That
I
account
them
blessings
.
For
by
these
Shall
I
try
friends
.
You
shall
perceive
how
you
Mistake
my
fortunes
.
I
am
wealthy
in
my
friends
.
—
Within
there
!
Flaminius
!
—
Servilius
!
Enter
three
Servants
,
Flaminius
,
Servilius
,
and
another
.
My
lord
,
my
lord
.
I
will
dispatch
you
severally
.
(
To
Servilius
)
You
to
Lord
Lucius
,
(
to
Flaminius
)
to
Lord
Lucullus
you
—
I
hunted
with
his
Honor
today
;
(
to
the
third
Servant
)
you
to
Sempronius
.
Commend
me
to
their
loves
,
and
I
am
proud
,
say
,
that
my
occasions
have
found
time
to
use
’em
toward
a
supply
of
money
.
Let
the
request
be
fifty
talents
.
As
you
have
said
,
my
lord
.
Servants
exit
.
,
aside
Lord
Lucius
and
Lucullus
?
Humh
!
Go
you
,
sir
,
to
the
Senators
,
Of
whom
,
even
to
the
state’s
best
health
,
I
have
Deserved
this
hearing
.
Bid
’em
send
o’
th’
instant
A
thousand
talents
to
me
.
I
have
been
bold
—
For
that
I
knew
it
the
most
general
way
—
To
them
to
use
your
signet
and
your
name
,
But
they
do
shake
their
heads
,
and
I
am
here
No
richer
in
return
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
Is
’t
true
?
Can
’t
be
?
They
answer
in
a
joint
and
corporate
voice
That
now
they
are
at
fall
,
want
treasure
,
cannot
Do
what
they
would
,
are
sorry
.
You
are
honorable
,
But
yet
they
could
have
wished
—
they
know
not
—
Something
hath
been
amiss
—
a
noble
nature
May
catch
a
wrench
—
would
all
were
well
—
’tis
pity
.
And
so
,
intending
other
serious
matters
,
After
distasteful
looks
and
these
hard
fractions
,
With
certain
half-caps
and
cold-moving
nods
They
froze
me
into
silence
.
You
gods
,
reward
them
!
Prithee
,
man
,
look
cheerly
.
These
old
fellows
Have
their
ingratitude
in
them
hereditary
.
Their
blood
is
caked
,
’tis
cold
,
it
seldom
flows
;
’Tis
lack
of
kindly
warmth
they
are
not
kind
;
And
nature
,
as
it
grows
again
toward
earth
,
Is
fashioned
for
the
journey
,
dull
and
heavy
.
Go
to
Ventidius
.
Prithee
,
be
not
sad
.
Thou
art
true
and
honest
—
ingeniously
I
speak
—
No
blame
belongs
to
thee
.
Ventidius
lately
Buried
his
father
,
by
whose
death
he’s
stepped
Into
a
great
estate
.
When
he
was
poor
,
Imprisoned
,
and
in
scarcity
of
friends
,
I
cleared
him
with
five
talents
.
Greet
him
from
me
.
Bid
him
suppose
some
good
necessity
Touches
his
friend
,
which
craves
to
be
remembered
With
those
five
talents
.
That
had
,
give
’t
these
fellows
To
whom
’tis
instant
due
.
Ne’er
speak
or
think
That
Timon’s
fortunes
’mong
his
friends
can
sink
.
He
exits
.
I
would
I
could
not
think
it
.
That
thought
is
bounty’s
foe
;
Being
free
itself
,
it
thinks
all
others
so
.
He
exits
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Enter
Flaminius
waiting
to
speak
with
Lucullus
,
from
his
master
.
Enter
a
Servant
to
him
.
I
have
told
my
lord
of
you
.
He
is
coming
down
to
you
.
I
thank
you
,
sir
.
Enter
Lucullus
.
Here’s
my
lord
.
,
aside
One
of
Lord
Timon’s
men
?
A
gift
,
I
warrant
.
Why
,
this
hits
right
.
I
dreamt
of
a
silver
basin
and
ewer
tonight
.
—
Flaminius
,
honest
Flaminius
,
you
are
very
respectively
welcome
,
sir
.
(
To
Servant
.
)
Fill
me
some
wine
.
(
Servant
exits
.
)
And
how
does
that
honorable
,
complete
,
free-hearted
gentleman
of
Athens
,
thy
very
bountiful
good
lord
and
master
?
His
health
is
well
,
sir
.
I
am
right
glad
that
his
health
is
well
,
sir
.
And
what
hast
thou
there
under
thy
cloak
,
pretty
Flaminius
?
Faith
,
nothing
but
an
empty
box
,
sir
,
which
in
my
lord’s
behalf
I
come
to
entreat
your
Honor
to
supply
;
who
,
having
great
and
instant
occasion
ACT 3. SC. 1
to
use
fifty
talents
,
hath
sent
to
your
Lordship
to
furnish
him
,
nothing
doubting
your
present
assistance
therein
.
La
,
la
,
la
,
la
.
Nothing
doubting
says
he
?
Alas
,
good
lord
!
A
noble
gentleman
’tis
,
if
he
would
not
keep
so
good
a
house
.
Many
a
time
and
often
I
ha’
dined
with
him
and
told
him
on
’t
,
and
come
again
to
supper
to
him
of
purpose
to
have
him
spend
less
,
and
yet
he
would
embrace
no
counsel
,
take
no
warning
by
my
coming
.
Every
man
has
his
fault
,
and
honesty
is
his
.
I
ha’
told
him
on
’t
,
but
I
could
ne’er
get
him
from
’t
.
Enter
Servant
with
wine
.
Please
your
Lordship
,
here
is
the
wine
.
Flaminius
,
I
have
noted
thee
always
wise
.
Here’s
to
thee
.
He
drinks
.
Your
Lordship
speaks
your
pleasure
.
I
have
observed
thee
always
for
a
towardly
prompt
spirit
—
give
thee
thy
due
—
and
one
that
knows
what
belongs
to
reason
and
canst
use
the
time
well
,
if
the
time
use
thee
well
.
Good
parts
in
thee
.
—
Get
you
gone
,
sirrah
.
Servant
exits
.
Draw
nearer
,
honest
Flaminius
.
Thy
lord’s
a
bountiful
gentleman
,
but
thou
art
wise
and
thou
know’st
well
enough
,
although
thou
com’st
to
me
,
that
this
is
no
time
to
lend
money
,
especially
upon
bare
friendship
,
without
security
.
Here’s
three
solidares
for
thee
.
(
Gives
him
money
.
)
Good
boy
,
wink
at
me
,
and
say
thou
saw’st
me
not
.
Fare
thee
well
.
Is
’t
possible
the
world
should
so
much
differ
,
And
we
alive
that
lived
?
Fly
,
damnèd
baseness
,
To
him
that
worships
thee
!
He
throws
the
money
back
at
Lucullus
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Ha
!
Now
I
see
thou
art
a
fool
and
fit
for
thy
master
.
Lucullus
exits
.
May
these
add
to
the
number
that
may
scald
thee
!
Let
molten
coin
be
thy
damnation
,
Thou
disease
of
a
friend
and
not
himself
!
Has
friendship
such
a
faint
and
milky
heart
It
turns
in
less
than
two
nights
?
O
you
gods
,
I
feel
my
master’s
passion
.
This
slave
Unto
his
honor
has
my
lord’s
meat
in
him
.
Why
should
it
thrive
and
turn
to
nutriment
When
he
is
turned
to
poison
?
O
,
may
diseases
only
work
upon
’t
,
And
when
he’s
sick
to
death
,
let
not
that
part
of
nature
Which
my
lord
paid
for
be
of
any
power
To
expel
sickness
,
but
prolong
his
hour
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Lucius
,
with
three
Strangers
.
Who
,
the
Lord
Timon
?
He
is
my
very
good
friend
and
an
honorable
gentleman
.
We
know
him
for
no
less
,
though
we
are
but
strangers
to
him
.
But
I
can
tell
you
one
thing
,
my
lord
,
and
which
I
hear
from
common
rumors
:
now
Lord
Timon’s
happy
hours
are
done
and
past
,
and
his
estate
shrinks
from
him
.
Fie
,
no
,
do
not
believe
it
.
He
cannot
want
for
money
.
But
believe
you
this
,
my
lord
,
that
not
long
ago
one
of
his
men
was
with
the
Lord
Lucullus
to
borrow
fifty
talents
,
nay
,
urged
extremely
for
’t
,
and
showed
what
necessity
belonged
to
’t
,
and
yet
was
denied
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
How
?
I
tell
you
,
denied
,
my
lord
.
What
a
strange
case
was
that
!
Now
,
before
the
gods
,
I
am
ashamed
on
’t
.
Denied
that
honorable
man
?
There
was
very
little
honor
showed
in
’t
.
For
my
own
part
,
I
must
needs
confess
I
have
received
some
small
kindnesses
from
him
,
as
money
,
plate
,
jewels
,
and
suchlike
trifles
,
nothing
comparing
to
his
;
yet
had
he
mistook
him
and
sent
to
me
,
I
should
ne’er
have
denied
his
occasion
fifty
talents
.
Enter
Servilius
.
,
aside
See
,
by
good
hap
,
yonder’s
my
lord
.
I
have
sweat
to
see
his
Honor
.
To
Lucius
.
My
honored
lord
.
Servilius
.
You
are
kindly
met
,
sir
.
Fare
thee
well
.
Commend
me
to
thy
honorable
virtuous
lord
,
my
very
exquisite
friend
.
He
turns
to
exit
.
May
it
please
your
Honor
,
my
lord
hath
sent
—
Ha
!
What
has
he
sent
?
I
am
so
much
endeared
to
that
lord
;
he’s
ever
sending
.
How
shall
I
thank
him
,
think’st
thou
?
And
what
has
he
sent
now
?
Has
only
sent
his
present
occasion
now
,
my
lord
,
requesting
your
Lordship
to
supply
his
instant
use
with
fifty
talents
.
I
know
his
Lordship
is
but
merry
with
me
.
He
cannot
want
fifty-five
hundred
talents
.
But
in
the
meantime
he
wants
less
,
my
lord
.
If
his
occasion
were
not
virtuous
,
I
should
not
urge
it
half
so
faithfully
.
Dost
thou
speak
seriously
,
Servilius
?
Upon
my
soul
,
’tis
true
,
sir
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
What
a
wicked
beast
was
I
to
disfurnish
myself
against
such
a
good
time
,
when
I
might
ha’
shown
myself
honorable
!
How
unluckily
it
happened
that
I
should
purchase
the
day
before
for
a
little
part
,
and
undo
a
great
deal
of
honor
!
Servilius
,
now
before
the
gods
,
I
am
not
able
to
do
—
the
more
beast
,
I
say
!
—
I
was
sending
to
use
Lord
Timon
myself
,
these
gentlemen
can
witness
;
but
I
would
not
for
the
wealth
of
Athens
I
had
done
’t
now
.
Commend
me
bountifully
to
his
good
Lordship
,
and
I
hope
his
Honor
will
conceive
the
fairest
of
me
,
because
I
have
no
power
to
be
kind
.
And
tell
him
this
from
me
:
I
count
it
one
of
my
greatest
afflictions
,
say
,
that
I
cannot
pleasure
such
an
honorable
gentleman
.
Good
Servilius
,
will
you
befriend
me
so
far
as
to
use
mine
own
words
to
him
?
Yes
,
sir
,
I
shall
.
I’ll
look
you
out
a
good
turn
,
Servilius
.
Servilius
exits
.
True
,
as
you
said
,
Timon
is
shrunk
indeed
,
And
he
that’s
once
denied
will
hardly
speed
.
He
exits
.
Do
you
observe
this
,
Hostilius
?
Ay
,
too
well
.
Why
,
this
is
the
world’s
soul
,
and
just
of
the
same
piece
Is
every
flatterer’s
sport
.
Who
can
call
him
his
friend
That
dips
in
the
same
dish
?
For
,
in
my
knowing
,
Timon
has
been
this
lord’s
father
And
kept
his
credit
with
his
purse
,
Supported
his
estate
,
nay
,
Timon’s
money
Has
paid
his
men
their
wages
.
He
ne’er
drinks
But
Timon’s
silver
treads
upon
his
lip
.
And
yet
—
O
,
see
the
monstrousness
of
man
ACT 3. SC. 3
When
he
looks
out
in
an
ungrateful
shape
!
—
He
does
deny
him
,
in
respect
of
his
,
What
charitable
men
afford
to
beggars
.
Religion
groans
at
it
.
For
mine
own
part
,
I
never
tasted
Timon
in
my
life
,
Nor
came
any
of
his
bounties
over
me
To
mark
me
for
his
friend
.
Yet
I
protest
,
For
his
right
noble
mind
,
illustrious
virtue
,
And
honorable
carriage
,
Had
his
necessity
made
use
of
me
,
I
would
have
put
my
wealth
into
donation
,
And
the
best
half
should
have
returned
to
him
,
So
much
I
love
his
heart
.
But
I
perceive
Men
must
learn
now
with
pity
to
dispense
,
For
policy
sits
above
conscience
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
a
Third
Servant
of
Timon’s
with
Sempronius
,
another
of
Timon’s
friends
.
Must
he
needs
trouble
me
in
’t
?
Hum
!
’Bove
all
others
?
He
might
have
tried
Lord
Lucius
or
Lucullus
;
And
now
Ventidius
is
wealthy
too
,
Whom
he
redeemed
from
prison
.
All
these
Owes
their
estates
unto
him
.
My
lord
,
They
have
all
been
touched
and
found
base
metal
,
For
they
have
all
denied
him
.
How
?
Have
they
denied
him
?
Has
Ventidius
and
Lucullus
denied
him
,
And
does
he
send
to
me
?
Three
?
Humh
!
ACT 3. SC. 3
It
shows
but
little
love
or
judgment
in
him
.
Must
I
be
his
last
refuge
?
His
friends
,
like
physicians
,
Thrive
,
give
him
over
.
Must
I
take
th’
cure
upon
me
?
Has
much
disgraced
me
in
’t
.
I’m
angry
at
him
That
might
have
known
my
place
.
I
see
no
sense
for
’t
But
his
occasions
might
have
wooed
me
first
;
For
,
in
my
conscience
,
I
was
the
first
man
That
e’er
received
gift
from
him
.
And
does
he
think
so
backwardly
of
me
now
That
I’ll
requite
it
last
?
No
.
So
it
may
prove
an
argument
of
laughter
To
th’
rest
,
and
I
’mongst
lords
be
thought
a
fool
.
I’d
rather
than
the
worth
of
thrice
the
sum
Had
sent
to
me
first
,
but
for
my
mind’s
sake
;
I’d
such
a
courage
to
do
him
good
.
But
now
return
,
And
with
their
faint
reply
this
answer
join
:
Who
bates
mine
honor
shall
not
know
my
coin
.
He
exits
.
Excellent
!
Your
Lordship’s
a
goodly
villain
.
The
devil
knew
not
what
he
did
when
he
made
man
politic
.
He
crossed
himself
by
’t
,
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
zeal
would
set
whole
realms
on
fire
.
Of
such
a
nature
is
his
politic
love
.
This
was
my
lord’s
best
hope
.
Now
all
are
fled
,
Save
only
the
gods
.
Now
his
friends
are
dead
,
Doors
that
were
ne’er
acquainted
with
their
wards
Many
a
bounteous
year
must
be
employed
Now
to
guard
sure
their
master
.
And
this
is
all
a
liberal
course
allows
:
Who
cannot
keep
his
wealth
must
keep
his
house
.
He
exits
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
Scene
4
Enter
Varro’s
two
Men
,
meeting
Titus
and
others
,
all
being
Men
of
Timon’s
creditors
to
wait
for
his
coming
out
.
Then
enter
Lucius’
Man
and
Hortensius
.
Well
met
.
Good
morrow
,
Titus
and
Hortensius
.
The
like
to
you
,
kind
Varro
.
Lucius
!
What
,
do
we
meet
together
?
Ay
,
and
I
think
One
business
does
command
us
all
,
For
mine
is
money
.
So
is
theirs
and
ours
.
Enter
Philotus
.
And
,
sir
,
Philotus’
too
.
Good
day
at
once
.
Welcome
,
good
brother
.
What
do
you
think
the
hour
?
Laboring
for
nine
.
So
much
?
Is
not
my
lord
seen
yet
?
Not
yet
.
I
wonder
on
’t
.
He
was
wont
to
shine
at
seven
.
Ay
,
but
the
days
are
waxed
shorter
with
him
.
You
must
consider
that
a
prodigal
course
Is
like
the
sun’s
,
But
not
,
like
his
,
recoverable
.
I
fear
’Tis
deepest
winter
in
Lord
Timon’s
purse
:
ACT 3. SC. 4
That
is
,
one
may
reach
deep
enough
and
yet
Find
little
.
I
am
of
your
fear
for
that
.
I’ll
show
you
how
t’
observe
a
strange
event
.
Your
lord
sends
now
for
money
?
Most
true
,
he
does
.
And
he
wears
jewels
now
of
Timon’s
gift
,
For
which
I
wait
for
money
.
It
is
against
my
heart
.
Mark
how
strange
it
shows
:
Timon
in
this
should
pay
more
than
he
owes
,
And
e’en
as
if
your
lord
should
wear
rich
jewels
And
send
for
money
for
’em
.
I’m
weary
of
this
charge
,
the
gods
can
witness
.
I
know
my
lord
hath
spent
of
Timon’s
wealth
,
And
now
ingratitude
makes
it
worse
than
stealth
.
Yes
,
mine’s
three
thousand
crowns
.
What’s
yours
?
Five
thousand
mine
.
’Tis
much
deep
,
and
it
should
seem
by
th’
sum
Your
master’s
confidence
was
above
mine
,
Else
surely
his
had
equaled
.
Enter
Flaminius
.
One
of
Lord
Timon’s
men
.
Flaminius
?
Sir
,
a
word
.
Pray
,
is
my
lord
ready
to
come
forth
?
No
,
indeed
he
is
not
.
We
attend
his
Lordship
.
Pray
,
signify
so
much
.
I
need
not
tell
him
that
.
He
knows
you
are
too
diligent
.
He
exits
.
Enter
Flavius
,
the
Steward
in
a
cloak
,
muffled
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
Ha
!
Is
not
that
his
steward
muffled
so
?
He
goes
away
in
a
cloud
.
Call
him
,
call
him
.
Do
you
hear
,
sir
?
By
your
leave
,
sir
.
What
do
you
ask
of
me
,
my
friend
?
We
wait
for
certain
money
here
,
sir
.
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
lord’s
meat
?
Then
they
could
smile
and
fawn
upon
his
debts
And
take
down
th’
int’rest
into
their
glutt’nous
maws
.
You
do
yourselves
but
wrong
to
stir
me
up
.
Let
me
pass
quietly
.
Believe
’t
,
my
lord
and
I
have
made
an
end
.
I
have
no
more
to
reckon
,
he
to
spend
.
Ay
,
but
this
answer
will
not
serve
.
If
’twill
not
serve
,
’tis
not
so
base
as
you
,
For
you
serve
knaves
.
He
exits
.
How
?
What
does
his
cashiered
Worship
mutter
?
No
matter
what
.
He’s
poor
,
and
that’s
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
.
O
,
here’s
Servilius
.
Now
we
shall
know
some
answer
.
If
I
might
beseech
you
,
gentlemen
,
to
repair
some
other
hour
,
I
should
derive
much
from
’t
.
For
take
’t
of
my
soul
,
my
lord
leans
wondrously
to
discontent
.
ACT 3. SC. 4
His
comfortable
temper
has
forsook
him
.
He’s
much
out
of
health
and
keeps
his
chamber
.
Many
do
keep
their
chambers
are
not
sick
;
And
if
it
be
so
far
beyond
his
health
,
Methinks
he
should
the
sooner
pay
his
debts
And
make
a
clear
way
to
the
gods
.
Good
gods
!
We
cannot
take
this
for
answer
,
sir
.
,
within
Servilius
,
help
!
My
lord
,
my
lord
!
Enter
Timon
in
a
rage
.
What
,
are
my
doors
opposed
against
my
passage
?
Have
I
been
ever
free
,
and
must
my
house
Be
my
retentive
enemy
,
my
jail
?
The
place
which
I
have
feasted
,
does
it
now
,
Like
all
mankind
,
show
me
an
iron
heart
?
Put
in
now
,
Titus
.
My
lord
,
here
is
my
bill
.
Here’s
mine
.
And
mine
,
my
lord
.
And
ours
,
my
lord
.
All
our
bills
.
Knock
me
down
with
’em
!
Cleave
me
to
the
girdle
.
Alas
,
my
lord
—
Cut
my
heart
in
sums
!
Mine
,
fifty
talents
.
Tell
out
my
blood
.
Five
thousand
crowns
,
my
lord
.
Five
thousand
drops
pays
that
.
—
What
yours
?
—
And
yours
?
My
lord
—
My
lord
—
ACT 3. SC. 4
Tear
me
,
take
me
,
and
the
gods
fall
upon
you
!
Timon
exits
.
Faith
,
I
perceive
our
masters
may
throw
their
caps
at
their
money
.
These
debts
may
well
be
called
desperate
ones
,
for
a
madman
owes
’em
.
They
exit
.
Enter
Timon
and
Flavius
.
They
have
e’en
put
my
breath
from
me
,
the
slaves
!
Creditors
?
Devils
!
My
dear
lord
—
What
if
it
should
be
so
?
My
lord
—
I’ll
have
it
so
.
—
My
steward
!
Here
,
my
lord
.
So
fitly
?
Go
,
bid
all
my
friends
again
,
Lucius
,
Lucullus
,
and
Sempronius
,
all
.
I’ll
once
more
feast
the
rascals
.
O
my
lord
,
You
only
speak
from
your
distracted
soul
.
There’s
not
so
much
left
to
furnish
out
A
moderate
table
.
Be
it
not
in
thy
care
.
Go
,
I
charge
thee
,
invite
them
all
.
Let
in
the
tide
Of
knaves
once
more
.
My
cook
and
I’ll
provide
.
They
exit
.
ACT 3. SC. 5
Scene
5
Enter
three
Senators
at
one
door
,
Alcibiades
meeting
them
,
with
Attendants
.
,
to
the
Second
Senator
My
lord
,
you
have
my
voice
to
’t
.
The
fault’s
Bloody
.
’Tis
necessary
he
should
die
.
Nothing
emboldens
sin
so
much
as
mercy
.
Most
true
.
The
law
shall
bruise
’em
.
Honor
,
health
,
and
compassion
to
the
Senate
!
Now
,
captain
?
I
am
an
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
stepped
into
the
law
,
which
is
past
depth
To
those
that
without
heed
do
plunge
into
’t
.
He
is
a
man
—
setting
his
fate
aside
—
Of
comely
virtues
.
Nor
did
he
soil
the
fact
with
cowardice
—
An
honor
in
him
which
buys
out
his
fault
—
But
with
a
noble
fury
and
fair
spirit
,
Seeing
his
reputation
touched
to
death
,
He
did
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
.
You
undergo
too
strict
a
paradox
,
Striving
to
make
an
ugly
deed
look
fair
.
Your
words
have
took
such
pains
as
if
they
labored
To
bring
manslaughter
into
form
and
set
quarreling
Upon
the
head
of
valor
—
which
indeed
ACT 3. SC. 5
Is
valor
misbegot
,
and
came
into
the
world
When
sects
and
factions
were
newly
born
.
He’s
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
ne’er
prefer
his
injuries
to
his
heart
To
bring
it
into
danger
.
If
wrongs
be
evils
and
enforce
us
kill
,
What
folly
’tis
to
hazard
life
for
ill
!
My
lord
—
You
cannot
make
gross
sins
look
clear
.
To
revenge
is
no
valor
,
but
to
bear
.
My
lords
,
then
,
under
favor
,
pardon
me
If
I
speak
like
a
captain
.
Why
do
fond
men
expose
themselves
to
battle
And
not
endure
all
threats
?
Sleep
upon
’t
,
And
let
the
foes
quietly
cut
their
throats
Without
repugnancy
?
If
there
be
Such
valor
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
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
sin’s
extremest
gust
,
But
in
defense
,
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
.
You
breathe
in
vain
.
In
vain
?
His
service
done
ACT 3. SC. 5
At
Lacedaemon
and
Byzantium
Were
a
sufficient
briber
for
his
life
.
What’s
that
?
Why
,
I
say
,
my
lords
,
has
done
fair
service
And
slain
in
fight
many
of
your
enemies
.
How
full
of
valor
did
he
bear
himself
In
the
last
conflict
,
and
made
plenteous
wounds
!
He
has
made
too
much
plenty
with
’em
.
He’s
a
sworn
rioter
.
He
has
a
sin
That
often
drowns
him
and
takes
his
valor
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
drink
dangerous
.
He
dies
.
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
love
Security
,
I’ll
pawn
my
victories
,
all
My
honor
,
to
you
,
upon
his
good
returns
.
If
by
this
crime
he
owes
the
law
his
life
,
Why
,
let
the
war
receive
’t
in
valiant
gore
,
For
law
is
strict
,
and
war
is
nothing
more
.
We
are
for
law
.
He
dies
.
Urge
it
no
more
,
On
height
of
our
displeasure
.
Friend
or
brother
,
He
forfeits
his
own
blood
that
spills
another
.
Must
it
be
so
?
It
must
not
be
.
My
lords
,
I
do
beseech
you
,
know
me
.
ACT 3. SC. 5
How
?
Call
me
to
your
remembrances
.
What
?
I
cannot
think
but
your
age
has
forgot
me
.
It
could
not
else
be
I
should
prove
so
base
To
sue
and
be
denied
such
common
grace
.
My
wounds
ache
at
you
.
Do
you
dare
our
anger
?
’Tis
in
few
words
,
but
spacious
in
effect
:
We
banish
thee
forever
.
Banish
me
?
Banish
your
dotage
,
banish
usury
,
That
makes
the
Senate
ugly
!
If
after
two
days’
shine
Athens
contain
thee
,
Attend
our
weightier
judgment
.
And
,
not
to
swell
our
spirit
,
He
shall
be
executed
presently
.
Senators
exit
.
Now
the
gods
keep
you
old
enough
that
you
may
live
Only
in
bone
,
that
none
may
look
on
you
!
—
I’m
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
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
.
I’ll
cheer
up
My
discontented
troops
and
lay
for
hearts
.
’Tis
honor
with
most
lands
to
be
at
odds
.
Soldiers
should
brook
as
little
wrongs
as
gods
.
He
exits
.
ACT 3. SC. 6
Scene
6
Music
.
Enter
divers
Friends
at
several
doors
.
The
good
time
of
day
to
you
,
sir
.
I
also
wish
it
to
you
.
I
think
this
honorable
lord
did
but
try
us
this
other
day
.
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
.
It
should
not
be
,
by
the
persuasion
of
his
new
feasting
.
I
should
think
so
.
He
hath
sent
me
an
earnest
inviting
,
which
many
my
near
occasions
did
urge
me
to
put
off
;
but
he
hath
conjured
me
beyond
them
,
and
I
must
needs
appear
.
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
.
I
am
sick
of
that
grief
too
,
as
I
understand
how
all
things
go
.
Every
man
here’s
so
.
What
would
he
have
borrowed
of
you
?
A
thousand
pieces
.
A
thousand
pieces
!
What
of
you
?
He
sent
to
me
,
sir
—
Enter
Timon
and
Attendants
.
Here
he
comes
.
With
all
my
heart
,
gentlemen
both
!
And
how
fare
you
?
Ever
at
the
best
,
hearing
well
of
your
Lordship
.
The
swallow
follows
not
summer
more
willing
than
we
your
Lordship
.
ACT 3. SC. 6
,
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
harshly
o’
th’
trumpets’
sound
.
We
shall
to
’t
presently
.
I
hope
it
remains
not
unkindly
with
your
Lordship
that
I
returned
you
an
empty
messenger
.
O
,
sir
,
let
it
not
trouble
you
.
My
noble
lord
—
Ah
,
my
good
friend
,
what
cheer
?
My
most
honorable
lord
,
I
am
e’en
sick
of
shame
that
when
your
Lordship
this
other
day
sent
to
me
,
I
was
so
unfortunate
a
beggar
.
Think
not
on
’t
,
sir
.
If
you
had
sent
but
two
hours
before
—
Let
it
not
cumber
your
better
remembrance
.
The
banquet
brought
in
.
Come
,
bring
in
all
together
.
All
covered
dishes
!
Royal
cheer
,
I
warrant
you
.
Doubt
not
that
,
if
money
and
the
season
can
yield
it
.
How
do
you
?
What’s
the
news
?
Alcibiades
is
banished
.
Hear
you
of
it
?
Alcibiades
banished
?
’Tis
so
.
Be
sure
of
it
.
How
?
How
?
I
pray
you
,
upon
what
?
My
worthy
friends
,
will
you
draw
near
?
I’ll
tell
you
more
anon
.
Here’s
a
noble
feast
toward
.
This
is
the
old
man
still
.
Will
’t
hold
?
Will
’t
hold
?
It
does
,
but
time
will
—
and
so
—
I
do
conceive
.
ACT 3. SC. 6
Each
man
to
his
stool
,
with
that
spur
as
he
would
to
the
lip
of
his
mistress
.
Your
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
.
(
They
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
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
be
as
they
are
.
The
rest
of
your
fees
,
O
gods
,
the
Senators
of
Athens
,
together
with
the
common
tag
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
dishes
are
uncovered
.
They
contain
only
water
and
stones
.
What
does
his
Lordship
mean
?
I
know
not
.
May
you
a
better
feast
never
behold
,
You
knot
of
mouth-friends
!
Smoke
and
lukewarm
water
Is
your
perfection
.
This
is
Timon’s
last
,
Who
,
stuck
and
spangled
with
your
flatteries
,
Washes
it
off
and
sprinkles
in
your
faces
Your
reeking
villainy
.
(
He
throws
water
in
their
faces
.
)
Live
loathed
and
long
,
ACT 3. SC. 6
Most
smiling
,
smooth
,
detested
parasites
,
Courteous
destroyers
,
affable
wolves
,
meek
bears
,
You
fools
of
fortune
,
trencher-friends
,
time’s
flies
,
Cap-and-knee
slaves
,
vapors
,
and
minute-jacks
.
Of
man
and
beast
the
infinite
malady
Crust
you
quite
o’er
!
(
They
stand
.
)
What
,
dost
thou
go
?
Soft
!
Take
thy
physic
first
—
thou
too
—
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
villain’s
not
a
welcome
guest
.
Burn
,
house
!
Sink
,
Athens
!
Henceforth
hated
be
Of
Timon
man
and
all
humanity
!
He
exits
.
Enter
Timon’s
Friends
,
the
Senators
,
with
other
Lords
.
How
now
,
my
lords
?
Know
you
the
quality
of
Lord
Timon’s
fury
?
Push
!
Did
you
see
my
cap
?
I
have
lost
my
gown
.
He’s
but
a
mad
lord
,
and
naught
but
humors
sways
him
.
He
gave
me
a
jewel
th’
other
day
,
and
now
he
has
beat
it
out
of
my
hat
.
Did
you
see
my
jewel
?
Did
you
see
my
cap
?
Here
’tis
.
Here
lies
my
gown
.
Let’s
make
no
stay
.
Lord
Timon’s
mad
.
I
feel
’t
upon
my
bones
.
One
day
he
gives
us
diamonds
,
next
day
stones
.
The
Senators
and
the
others
exit
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Enter
Timon
.
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
!
Do
’t
in
your
parents’
eyes
!
Bankrupts
,
hold
fast
!
Rather
than
render
back
,
out
with
your
knives
And
cut
your
trusters’
throats
!
Bound
servants
,
steal
!
Large-handed
robbers
your
grave
masters
are
,
And
pill
by
law
.
Maid
,
to
thy
master’s
bed
!
Thy
mistress
is
o’
th’
brothel
.
Son
of
sixteen
,
Pluck
the
lined
crutch
from
thy
old
limping
sire
;
With
it
beat
out
his
brains
!
Piety
and
fear
,
Religion
to
the
gods
,
peace
,
justice
,
truth
,
Domestic
awe
,
night
rest
,
and
neighborhood
,
Instruction
,
manners
,
mysteries
,
and
trades
,
Degrees
,
observances
,
customs
,
and
laws
,
Decline
to
your
confounding
contraries
,
And
yet
confusion
live
!
Plagues
incident
to
men
,
Your
potent
and
infectious
fevers
heap
On
Athens
,
ripe
for
stroke
!
Thou
cold
sciatica
,
ACT 4. SC. 2
Cripple
our
senators
,
that
their
limbs
may
halt
As
lamely
as
their
manners
!
Lust
and
liberty
,
Creep
in
the
minds
and
marrows
of
our
youth
,
That
’gainst
the
stream
of
virtue
they
may
strive
And
drown
themselves
in
riot
!
Itches
,
blains
,
Sow
all
th’
Athenian
bosoms
,
and
their
crop
Be
general
leprosy
!
Breath
infect
breath
,
That
their
society
,
as
their
friendship
,
may
Be
merely
poison
!
Nothing
I’ll
bear
from
thee
But
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
confound
—
hear
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
low
!
Amen
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Steward
Flavius
with
two
or
three
Servants
.
Hear
you
,
Master
Steward
,
where’s
our
master
?
Are
we
undone
,
cast
off
,
nothing
remaining
?
Alack
,
my
fellows
,
what
should
I
say
to
you
?
Let
me
be
recorded
by
the
righteous
gods
,
I
am
as
poor
as
you
.
Such
a
house
broke
?
So
noble
a
master
fall’n
,
all
gone
,
and
not
One
friend
to
take
his
fortune
by
the
arm
And
go
along
with
him
?
As
we
do
turn
our
backs
ACT 4. SC. 2
From
our
companion
thrown
into
his
grave
,
So
his
familiars
to
his
buried
fortunes
Slink
all
away
,
leave
their
false
vows
with
him
,
Like
empty
purses
picked
;
and
his
poor
self
,
A
dedicated
beggar
to
the
air
,
With
his
disease
of
all-shunned
poverty
,
Walks
,
like
contempt
,
alone
.
Enter
other
Servants
.
More
of
our
fellows
.
All
broken
implements
of
a
ruined
house
.
Yet
do
our
hearts
wear
Timon’s
livery
.
That
see
I
by
our
faces
.
We
are
fellows
still
,
Serving
alike
in
sorrow
.
Leaked
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
.
Good
fellows
all
,
The
latest
of
my
wealth
I’ll
share
amongst
you
.
Wherever
we
shall
meet
,
for
Timon’s
sake
Let’s
yet
be
fellows
.
Let’s
shake
our
heads
and
say
,
As
’twere
a
knell
unto
our
master’s
fortunes
,
We
have
seen
better
days
.
(
He
offers
them
money
.
)
Let
each
take
some
.
Nay
,
put
out
all
your
hands
.
Not
one
word
more
.
Thus
part
we
rich
in
sorrow
,
parting
poor
.
The
Servants
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
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
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
,
do
still
mar
men
.
My
dearest
lord
,
blest
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
ingrateful
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
.
He
exits
.
Scene
3
Enter
Timon
in
the
woods
,
with
a
spade
.
O
blessèd
breeding
sun
,
draw
from
the
Earth
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
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
deny
’t
that
lord
;
The
Senators
shall
bear
contempt
hereditary
,
The
beggar
native
honor
.
It
is
the
pasture
lards
the
brother’s
sides
,
The
want
that
makes
him
lean
.
Who
dares
,
who
dares
ACT 4. SC. 3
In
purity
of
manhood
stand
upright
And
say
This
man’s
a
flatterer
?
If
one
be
,
So
are
they
all
,
for
every
grise
of
fortune
Is
smoothed
by
that
below
.
The
learnèd
pate
Ducks
to
the
golden
fool
.
All’s
obliquy
.
There’s
nothing
level
in
our
cursèd
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
!
Who
seeks
for
better
of
thee
,
sauce
his
palate
With
thy
most
operant
poison
!
(
Digging
,
he
finds
gold
.
)
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
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
spital
house
and
ulcerous
sores
Would
cast
the
gorge
at
,
this
embalms
and
spices
To
th’
April
day
again
.
Come
,
damnèd
earth
,
Thou
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
?
Thou
’rt
quick
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
But
yet
I’ll
bury
thee
.
Thou
’lt
go
,
strong
thief
,
When
gouty
keepers
of
thee
cannot
stand
.
Nay
,
stay
thou
out
for
earnest
.
He
buries
the
gold
,
keeping
some
out
.
Enter
Alcibiades
,
with
Drum
and
Fife
,
in
warlike
manner
,
and
Phrynia
and
Timandra
.
What
art
thou
there
?
Speak
.
A
beast
,
as
thou
art
.
The
canker
gnaw
thy
heart
For
showing
me
again
the
eyes
of
man
!
What
is
thy
name
?
Is
man
so
hateful
to
thee
That
art
thyself
a
man
?
I
am
Misanthropos
and
hate
mankind
.
For
thy
part
,
I
do
wish
thou
wert
a
dog
,
That
I
might
love
thee
something
.
I
know
thee
well
.
But
in
thy
fortunes
am
unlearned
and
strange
.
I
know
thee
too
,
and
more
than
that
I
know
thee
I
not
desire
to
know
.
Follow
thy
drum
.
With
man’s
blood
paint
the
ground
gules
,
gules
!
Religious
canons
,
civil
laws
are
cruel
.
Then
what
should
war
be
?
This
fell
whore
of
thine
Hath
in
her
more
destruction
than
thy
sword
,
For
all
her
cherubin
look
.
Thy
lips
rot
off
!
I
will
not
kiss
thee
.
Then
the
rot
returns
To
thine
own
lips
again
.
How
came
the
noble
Timon
to
this
change
?
As
the
moon
does
,
by
wanting
light
to
give
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
But
then
renew
I
could
not
,
like
the
moon
;
There
were
no
suns
to
borrow
of
.
Noble
Timon
,
what
friendship
may
I
do
thee
?
None
,
but
to
maintain
my
opinion
.
What
is
it
,
Timon
?
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
art
a
man
.
I
have
heard
in
some
sort
of
thy
miseries
.
Thou
saw’st
them
when
I
had
prosperity
.
I
see
them
now
.
Then
was
a
blessèd
time
.
As
thine
is
now
,
held
with
a
brace
of
harlots
.
Is
this
th’
Athenian
minion
whom
the
world
Voiced
so
regardfully
?
Art
thou
Timandra
?
Yes
.
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
.
Hang
thee
,
monster
!
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
ACT 4. SC. 3
In
my
penurious
band
.
I
have
heard
and
grieved
How
cursèd
Athens
,
mindless
of
thy
worth
,
Forgetting
thy
great
deeds
when
neighbor
states
,
But
for
thy
sword
and
fortune
,
trod
upon
them
—
I
prithee
,
beat
thy
drum
and
get
thee
gone
.
I
am
thy
friend
and
pity
thee
,
dear
Timon
.
How
dost
thou
pity
him
whom
thou
dost
trouble
?
I
had
rather
be
alone
.
Why
,
fare
thee
well
.
Here
is
some
gold
for
thee
.
Keep
it
.
I
cannot
eat
it
.
When
I
have
laid
proud
Athens
on
a
heap
—
Warr’st
thou
’gainst
Athens
?
Ay
,
Timon
,
and
have
cause
.
The
gods
confound
them
all
in
thy
conquest
,
And
thee
after
,
when
thou
hast
conquered
!
Why
me
,
Timon
?
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
honored
age
for
his
white
beard
;
He
is
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
milk
paps
,
That
through
the
window-bars
bore
at
men’s
eyes
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
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
the
throat
shall
cut
,
And
mince
it
sans
remorse
.
Swear
against
objects
;
Put
armor
on
thine
ears
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
.
(
He
offers
gold
.
)
There’s
gold
to
pay
thy
soldiers
.
Make
large
confusion
and
,
thy
fury
spent
,
Confounded
be
thyself
!
Speak
not
.
Begone
.
Hast
thou
gold
yet
?
I’ll
take
the
gold
thou
givest
me
,
Not
all
thy
counsel
.
Dost
thou
or
dost
thou
not
,
heaven’s
curse
upon
thee
!
Give
us
some
gold
,
good
Timon
.
Hast
thou
more
?
Enough
to
make
a
whore
forswear
her
trade
,
And
to
make
whores
a
bawd
.
Hold
up
,
you
sluts
,
Your
aprons
mountant
.
(
He
begins
throwing
gold
into
their
aprons
.
)
You
are
not
oathable
,
Although
I
know
you’ll
swear
—
terribly
swear
Into
strong
shudders
and
to
heavenly
agues
Th’
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
,
And
be
no
turncoats
.
Yet
may
your
pains
six
months
Be
quite
contrary
.
And
thatch
your
poor
thin
roofs
ACT 4. SC. 3
With
burdens
of
the
dead
—
some
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
!
Well
,
more
gold
.
What
then
?
Believe
’t
that
we’ll
do
anything
for
gold
.
Consumptions
sow
In
hollow
bones
of
man
;
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
!
More
counsel
with
more
money
,
bounteous
Timon
.
More
whore
,
more
mischief
first
!
I
have
given
you
earnest
.
Strike
up
the
drum
towards
Athens
.
—
Farewell
,
Timon
.
If
I
thrive
well
,
I’ll
visit
thee
again
.
If
I
hope
well
,
I’ll
never
see
thee
more
.
I
never
did
thee
harm
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Yes
,
thou
spok’st
well
of
me
.
Call’st
thou
that
harm
?
Men
daily
find
it
.
Get
thee
away
,
and
take
Thy
beagles
with
thee
.
,
to
the
Women
We
but
offend
him
.
—
Strike
.
The
drum
sounds
;
all
but
Timon
exit
.
That
nature
,
being
sick
of
man’s
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
the
black
toad
and
adder
blue
,
The
gilded
newt
and
eyeless
venomed
worm
,
With
all
th’
abhorrèd
births
below
crisp
heaven
Whereon
Hyperion’s
quick’ning
fire
doth
shine
:
Yield
him
who
all
thy
human
sons
do
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
.
O
,
a
root
!
Dear
thanks
!
Dry
up
thy
marrows
,
vines
,
and
plow-torn
leas
,
Whereof
ingrateful
man
with
liquorish
drafts
And
morsels
unctuous
greases
his
pure
mind
,
That
from
it
all
consideration
slips
—
Enter
Apemantus
.
More
man
?
Plague
,
plague
!
I
was
directed
hither
.
Men
report
Thou
dost
affect
my
manners
and
dost
use
them
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
’Tis
,
then
,
because
thou
dost
not
keep
a
dog
,
Whom
I
would
imitate
.
Consumption
catch
thee
!
This
is
in
thee
a
nature
but
infected
,
A
poor
unmanly
melancholy
sprung
From
change
of
future
.
Why
this
spade
?
This
place
?
This
slavelike
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
bade
welcome
,
To
knaves
and
all
approachers
.
’Tis
most
just
That
thou
turn
rascal
.
Had’st
thou
wealth
again
,
Rascals
should
have
’t
.
Do
not
assume
my
likeness
.
Were
I
like
thee
,
I’d
throw
away
myself
.
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
moist
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’ernight’s
surfeit
?
Call
the
creatures
Whose
naked
natures
live
in
all
the
spite
Of
wreakful
heaven
,
whose
bare
unhousèd
trunks
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
To
the
conflicting
elements
exposed
,
Answer
mere
nature
.
Bid
them
flatter
thee
.
O
,
thou
shalt
find
—
A
fool
of
thee
.
Depart
.
I
love
thee
better
now
than
e’er
I
did
.
I
hate
thee
worse
.
Why
?
Thou
flatter’st
misery
.
I
flatter
not
but
say
thou
art
a
caitiff
.
Why
dost
thou
seek
me
out
?
To
vex
thee
.
Always
a
villain’s
office
or
a
fool’s
.
Dost
please
thyself
in
’t
?
Ay
.
What
,
a
knave
too
?
If
thou
didst
put
this
sour
cold
habit
on
To
castigate
thy
pride
,
’twere
well
,
but
thou
Dost
it
enforcedly
.
Thou
’dst
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
.
Not
by
his
breath
that
is
more
miserable
.
Thou
art
a
slave
whom
Fortune’s
tender
arm
With
favor
never
clasped
but
bred
a
dog
.
Hadst
thou
,
like
us
from
our
first
swathe
,
proceeded
The
sweet
degrees
that
this
brief
world
affords
ACT 4. SC. 3
To
such
as
may
the
passive
drugs
of
it
Freely
command
,
thou
wouldst
have
plunged
thyself
In
general
riot
,
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
the
oak
,
have
with
one
winter’s
brush
Fell
from
their
boughs
and
left
me
open
,
bare
,
For
every
storm
that
blows
—
I
to
bear
this
,
That
never
knew
but
better
,
is
some
burden
.
Thy
nature
did
commence
in
sufferance
.
Time
Hath
made
thee
hard
in
’t
.
Why
shouldst
thou
hate
men
?
They
never
flattered
thee
.
What
hast
thou
given
?
If
thou
wilt
curse
,
thy
father
,
that
poor
rag
,
Must
be
thy
subject
,
who
in
spite
put
stuff
To
some
she-beggar
and
compounded
thee
Poor
rogue
hereditary
.
Hence
,
begone
.
If
thou
hadst
not
been
born
the
worst
of
men
,
Thou
hadst
been
a
knave
and
flatterer
.
Art
thou
proud
yet
?
Ay
,
that
I
am
not
thee
.
I
,
that
I
was
no
prodigal
.
I
,
that
I
am
one
now
.
Were
all
the
wealth
I
have
shut
up
in
thee
,
I’d
give
thee
leave
to
hang
it
.
Get
thee
gone
.
That
the
whole
life
of
Athens
were
in
this
!
Thus
would
I
eat
it
.
He
gnaws
a
root
.
,
offering
food
Here
,
I
will
mend
thy
feast
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
First
mend
my
company
.
Take
away
thyself
.
So
I
shall
mend
mine
own
by
th’
lack
of
thine
.
’Tis
not
well
mended
so
;
it
is
but
botched
.
If
not
,
I
would
it
were
.
What
wouldst
thou
have
to
Athens
?
Thee
thither
in
a
whirlwind
.
If
thou
wilt
,
Tell
them
there
I
have
gold
.
Look
,
so
I
have
.
Here
is
no
use
for
gold
.
The
best
and
truest
,
For
here
it
sleeps
and
does
no
hired
harm
.
Where
liest
a-nights
,
Timon
?
Under
that’s
above
me
.
Where
feed’st
thou
a-days
,
Apemantus
?
Where
my
stomach
finds
meat
,
or
rather
where
I
eat
it
.
Would
poison
were
obedient
and
knew
my
mind
!
Where
wouldst
thou
send
it
?
To
sauce
thy
dishes
.
The
middle
of
humanity
thou
never
knewest
,
but
the
extremity
of
both
ends
.
When
thou
wast
in
thy
gilt
and
thy
perfume
,
they
mocked
thee
for
too
much
curiosity
.
In
thy
rags
thou
know’st
none
,
but
art
despised
for
the
contrary
.
There’s
a
medlar
for
thee
.
Eat
it
.
On
what
I
hate
I
feed
not
.
Dost
hate
a
medlar
?
Ay
,
though
it
look
like
thee
.
An
thou
’dst
hated
meddlers
sooner
,
thou
shouldst
have
loved
thyself
better
now
.
What
man
didst
thou
ever
know
unthrift
that
was
beloved
after
his
means
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
Who
,
without
those
means
thou
talk’st
of
,
didst
thou
ever
know
beloved
?
Myself
.
I
understand
thee
.
Thou
hadst
some
means
to
keep
a
dog
.
What
things
in
the
world
canst
thou
nearest
compare
to
thy
flatterers
?
Women
nearest
,
but
men
—
men
are
the
things
themselves
.
What
wouldst
thou
do
with
the
world
,
Apemantus
,
if
it
lay
in
thy
power
?
Give
it
the
beasts
,
to
be
rid
of
the
men
.
Wouldst
thou
have
thyself
fall
in
the
confusion
of
men
and
remain
a
beast
with
the
beasts
?
Ay
,
Timon
.
A
beastly
ambition
,
which
the
gods
grant
thee
t’
attain
to
!
If
thou
wert
the
lion
,
the
fox
would
beguile
thee
.
If
thou
wert
the
lamb
,
the
fox
would
eat
thee
.
If
thou
wert
the
fox
,
the
lion
would
suspect
thee
when
peradventure
thou
wert
accused
by
the
ass
.
If
thou
wert
the
ass
,
thy
dullness
would
torment
thee
,
and
still
thou
lived’st
but
as
a
breakfast
to
the
wolf
.
If
thou
wert
the
wolf
,
thy
greediness
would
afflict
thee
,
and
oft
thou
shouldst
hazard
thy
life
for
thy
dinner
.
Wert
thou
the
unicorn
,
pride
and
wrath
would
confound
thee
and
make
thine
own
self
the
conquest
of
thy
fury
.
Wert
thou
a
bear
,
thou
wouldst
be
killed
by
the
horse
.
Wert
thou
a
horse
,
thou
wouldst
be
seized
by
the
leopard
.
Wert
thou
a
leopard
,
thou
wert
germane
to
the
lion
,
and
the
spots
of
thy
kindred
were
jurors
on
thy
life
.
All
thy
safety
were
remotion
,
and
thy
defense
absence
.
What
beast
couldst
thou
be
that
were
not
subject
to
a
beast
?
And
what
a
beast
art
thou
already
that
seest
not
thy
loss
in
transformation
!
If
thou
couldst
please
me
with
speaking
to
ACT 4. SC. 3
me
,
thou
mightst
have
hit
upon
it
here
.
The
commonwealth
of
Athens
is
become
a
forest
of
beasts
.
How
,
has
the
ass
broke
the
wall
that
thou
art
out
of
the
city
?
Yonder
comes
a
poet
and
a
painter
.
The
plague
of
company
light
upon
thee
!
I
will
fear
to
catch
it
and
give
way
.
When
I
know
not
what
else
to
do
,
I’ll
see
thee
again
.
When
there
is
nothing
living
but
thee
,
thou
shalt
be
welcome
.
I
had
rather
be
a
beggar’s
dog
than
Apemantus
.
Thou
art
the
cap
of
all
the
fools
alive
.
Would
thou
wert
clean
enough
to
spit
upon
!
A
plague
on
thee
!
Thou
art
too
bad
to
curse
.
All
villains
that
do
stand
by
thee
are
pure
.
There
is
no
leprosy
but
what
thou
speak’st
.
If
I
name
thee
.
I’ll
beat
thee
,
but
I
should
infect
my
hands
.
I
would
my
tongue
could
rot
them
off
!
Away
,
thou
issue
of
a
mangy
dog
!
Choler
does
kill
me
that
thou
art
alive
.
I
swoon
to
see
thee
.
Would
thou
wouldst
burst
!
Away
,
thou
tedious
rogue
!
I
am
sorry
I
shall
lose
a
stone
by
thee
.
Timon
throws
a
stone
at
Apemantus
.
Beast
!
Slave
!
Toad
!
ACT 4. SC. 3
Rogue
,
rogue
,
rogue
!
I
am
sick
of
this
false
world
,
and
will
love
nought
But
even
the
mere
necessities
upon
’t
.
Then
,
Timon
,
presently
prepare
thy
grave
.
Lie
where
the
light
foam
of
the
sea
may
beat
Thy
gravestone
daily
.
Make
thine
epitaph
,
That
death
in
me
at
others’
lives
may
laugh
.
(
To
his
gold
.
)
O
thou
sweet
king-killer
and
dear
divorce
’Twixt
natural
son
and
sire
,
thou
bright
defiler
Of
Hymen’s
purest
bed
,
thou
valiant
Mars
,
Thou
ever
young
,
fresh
,
loved
,
and
delicate
wooer
,
Whose
blush
doth
thaw
the
consecrated
snow
That
lies
on
Dian’s
lap
;
thou
visible
god
,
That
sold’rest
close
impossibilities
And
mak’st
them
kiss
,
that
speak’st
with
every
tongue
To
every
purpose
!
O
thou
touch
of
hearts
,
Think
thy
slave
,
man
,
rebels
,
and
by
thy
virtue
Set
them
into
confounding
odds
,
that
beasts
May
have
the
world
in
empire
!
Would
’twere
so
!
But
not
till
I
am
dead
.
I’ll
say
thou
’st
gold
;
Thou
wilt
be
thronged
to
shortly
.
Thronged
to
?
Ay
.
Thy
back
,
I
prithee
.
Live
and
love
thy
misery
.
Long
live
so
,
and
so
die
.
I
am
quit
.
Enter
the
Banditti
.
More
things
like
men
.
—
Eat
,
Timon
,
and
abhor
them
.
Apemantus
exits
.
Where
should
he
have
this
gold
?
It
is
ACT 4. SC. 3
some
poor
fragment
,
some
slender
ort
of
his
remainder
.
The
mere
want
of
gold
and
the
falling-from
of
his
friends
drove
him
into
this
melancholy
.
It
is
noised
he
hath
a
mass
of
treasure
.
Let
us
make
the
assay
upon
him
.
If
he
care
not
for
’t
,
he
will
supply
us
easily
.
If
he
covetously
reserve
it
,
how
shall
’s
get
it
?
True
,
for
he
bears
it
not
about
him
.
’Tis
hid
.
Is
not
this
he
?
Where
?
’Tis
his
description
.
He
.
I
know
him
.
Save
thee
,
Timon
.
Now
,
thieves
?
Soldiers
,
not
thieves
.
Both
,
too
,
and
women’s
sons
.
We
are
not
thieves
,
but
men
that
much
do
want
.
Your
greatest
want
is
,
you
want
much
of
meat
.
Why
should
you
want
?
Behold
,
the
earth
hath
roots
.
Within
this
mile
break
forth
a
hundred
springs
.
The
oaks
bear
mast
,
the
briars
scarlet
hips
.
The
bounteous
huswife
Nature
on
each
bush
Lays
her
full
mess
before
you
.
Want
?
Why
want
?
We
cannot
live
on
grass
,
on
berries
,
water
,
As
beasts
and
birds
and
fishes
.
Nor
on
the
beasts
themselves
,
the
birds
and
fishes
;
You
must
eat
men
.
Yet
thanks
I
must
you
con
That
you
are
thieves
professed
,
that
you
work
not
In
holier
shapes
,
for
there
is
boundless
theft
In
limited
professions
.
Rascal
thieves
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Here’s
gold
.
(
He
gives
them
gold
.
)
Go
,
suck
the
subtle
blood
o’
th’
grape
Till
the
high
fever
seethe
your
blood
to
froth
,
And
so
’scape
hanging
.
Trust
not
the
physician
;
His
antidotes
are
poison
,
and
he
slays
More
than
you
rob
.
Take
wealth
and
lives
together
.
Do
,
villainy
,
do
,
since
you
protest
to
do
’t
,
Like
workmen
.
I’ll
example
you
with
thievery
.
The
sun’s
a
thief
and
with
his
great
attraction
Robs
the
vast
sea
.
The
moon’s
an
arrant
thief
,
And
her
pale
fire
she
snatches
from
the
sun
.
The
sea’s
a
thief
,
whose
liquid
surge
resolves
The
moon
into
salt
tears
.
The
earth’s
a
thief
,
That
feeds
and
breeds
by
a
composture
stol’n
From
gen’ral
excrement
.
Each
thing’s
a
thief
.
The
laws
,
your
curb
and
whip
,
in
their
rough
power
Has
unchecked
theft
.
Love
not
yourselves
.
Away
!
Rob
one
another
.
There’s
more
gold
.
(
He
gives
them
gold
.
)
Cut
throats
.
All
that
you
meet
are
thieves
.
To
Athens
go
.
Break
open
shops
.
Nothing
can
you
steal
But
thieves
do
lose
it
.
Steal
less
for
this
I
give
you
,
And
gold
confound
you
howsoe’er
!
Amen
.
Has
almost
charmed
me
from
my
profession
by
persuading
me
to
it
.
’Tis
in
the
malice
of
mankind
that
he
thus
advises
us
,
not
to
have
us
thrive
in
our
mystery
.
I’ll
believe
him
as
an
enemy
and
give
over
my
trade
.
Let
us
first
see
peace
in
Athens
.
There
is
no
time
so
miserable
but
a
man
may
be
true
.
Thieves
exit
.
Enter
Flavius
,
the
Steward
,
to
Timon
.
O
you
gods
!
ACT 4. SC. 3
Is
yond
despised
and
ruinous
man
my
lord
?
Full
of
decay
and
flailing
?
O
,
monument
And
wonder
of
good
deeds
evilly
bestowed
!
What
an
alteration
of
honor
has
desp’rate
want
made
!
What
viler
thing
upon
the
Earth
earth
than
friends
,
Who
can
bring
noblest
minds
to
basest
ends
!
How
rarely
does
it
meet
with
this
time’s
guise
,
When
man
was
wished
to
love
his
enemies
!
Grant
I
may
ever
love
,
and
rather
woo
Those
that
would
mischief
me
than
those
that
do
!
Has
caught
me
in
his
eye
.
I
will
present
My
honest
grief
unto
him
and
as
my
lord
Still
serve
him
with
my
life
.
—
My
dearest
master
.
Away
!
What
art
thou
?
Have
you
forgot
me
,
sir
?
Why
dost
ask
that
?
I
have
forgot
all
men
.
Then
,
if
thou
grant’st
thou
’rt
a
man
,
I
have
forgot
thee
.
An
honest
poor
servant
of
yours
.
Then
I
know
thee
not
.
I
never
had
honest
man
about
me
,
I
.
All
I
kept
were
knaves
to
serve
in
meat
to
villains
.
The
gods
are
witness
,
Ne’er
did
poor
steward
wear
a
truer
grief
For
his
undone
lord
than
mine
eyes
for
you
.
He
weeps
.
What
,
dost
thou
weep
?
Come
nearer
,
then
.
I
love
thee
Because
thou
art
a
woman
and
disclaim’st
Flinty
mankind
,
whose
eyes
do
never
give
But
thorough
lust
and
laughter
.
Pity’s
sleeping
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
Strange
times
that
weep
with
laughing
,
not
with
weeping
!
I
beg
of
you
to
know
me
,
good
my
lord
,
T’
accept
my
grief
,
and
,
whilst
this
poor
wealth
lasts
,
To
entertain
me
as
your
steward
still
.
He
offers
money
.
Had
I
a
steward
So
true
,
so
just
,
and
now
so
comfortable
?
It
almost
turns
my
dangerous
nature
mild
.
Let
me
behold
thy
face
.
Surely
this
man
Was
born
of
woman
.
Forgive
my
general
and
exceptless
rashness
,
You
perpetual-sober
gods
.
I
do
proclaim
One
honest
man
—
mistake
me
not
,
but
one
;
No
more
,
I
pray
!
—
and
he’s
a
steward
.
How
fain
would
I
have
hated
all
mankind
,
And
thou
redeem’st
thyself
.
But
all
,
save
thee
,
I
fell
with
curses
.
Methinks
thou
art
more
honest
now
than
wise
,
For
by
oppressing
and
betraying
me
Thou
mightst
have
sooner
got
another
service
;
For
many
so
arrive
at
second
masters
Upon
their
first
lord’s
neck
.
But
tell
me
true
—
For
I
must
ever
doubt
,
though
ne’er
so
sure
—
Is
not
thy
kindness
subtle
,
covetous
,
A
usuring
kindness
,
and
as
rich
men
deal
gifts
,
Expecting
in
return
twenty
for
one
?
No
,
my
most
worthy
master
,
in
whose
breast
Doubt
and
suspect
,
alas
,
are
placed
too
late
.
You
should
have
feared
false
times
when
you
did
feast
.
Suspect
still
comes
where
an
estate
is
least
.
That
which
I
show
,
heaven
knows
,
is
merely
love
,
Duty
,
and
zeal
to
your
unmatchèd
mind
,
ACT 4. SC. 3
Care
of
your
food
and
living
.
And
believe
it
,
My
most
honored
lord
,
For
any
benefit
that
points
to
me
,
Either
in
hope
or
present
,
I’d
exchange
For
this
one
wish
,
that
you
had
power
and
wealth
To
requite
me
by
making
rich
yourself
.
Look
thee
,
’tis
so
.
Thou
singly
honest
man
,
Here
,
take
.
(
Timon
offers
gold
.
)
The
gods
out
of
my
misery
Has
sent
thee
treasure
.
Go
,
live
rich
and
happy
,
But
thus
conditioned
:
thou
shalt
build
from
men
;
Hate
all
,
curse
all
,
show
charity
to
none
,
But
let
the
famished
flesh
slide
from
the
bone
Ere
thou
relieve
the
beggar
;
give
to
dogs
What
thou
deniest
to
men
;
let
prisons
swallow
’em
,
Debts
wither
’em
to
nothing
;
be
men
like
blasted
woods
,
And
may
diseases
lick
up
their
false
bloods
!
And
so
farewell
and
thrive
.
O
,
let
me
stay
And
comfort
you
,
my
master
.
If
thou
hat’st
curses
,
Stay
not
.
Fly
whilst
thou
art
blest
and
free
.
Ne’er
see
thou
man
,
and
let
me
ne’er
see
thee
.
They
exit
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
Poet
and
Painter
.
As
I
took
note
of
the
place
,
it
cannot
be
far
where
he
abides
.
What’s
to
be
thought
of
him
?
Does
the
rumor
hold
for
true
that
he’s
so
full
of
gold
?
Certain
.
Alcibiades
reports
it
.
Phrynia
and
Timandra
had
gold
of
him
.
He
likewise
enriched
poor
straggling
soldiers
with
great
quantity
.
’Tis
said
he
gave
unto
his
steward
a
mighty
sum
.
Then
this
breaking
of
his
has
been
but
a
try
for
his
friends
?
Nothing
else
.
You
shall
see
him
a
palm
in
Athens
again
,
and
flourish
with
the
highest
.
Therefore
’tis
not
amiss
we
tender
our
loves
to
him
in
this
supposed
distress
of
his
.
It
will
show
honestly
in
us
and
is
very
likely
to
load
our
purposes
with
what
they
travail
for
,
if
it
be
a
just
and
true
report
that
goes
of
his
having
.
Enter
Timon
,
behind
them
,
from
his
cave
.
What
have
you
now
to
present
unto
him
?
Nothing
at
this
time
but
my
visitation
.
Only
I
will
promise
him
an
excellent
piece
.
I
must
serve
him
so
too
—
tell
him
of
an
intent
that’s
coming
toward
him
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Good
as
the
best
.
Promising
is
the
very
air
o’
th’
time
;
it
opens
the
eyes
of
expectation
.
Performance
is
ever
the
duller
for
his
act
,
and
but
in
the
plainer
and
simpler
kind
of
people
the
deed
of
saying
is
quite
out
of
use
.
To
promise
is
most
courtly
and
fashionable
.
Performance
is
a
kind
of
will
or
testament
which
argues
a
great
sickness
in
his
judgment
that
makes
it
.
,
aside
Excellent
workman
!
Thou
canst
not
paint
a
man
so
bad
as
is
thyself
.
I
am
thinking
what
I
shall
say
I
have
provided
for
him
.
It
must
be
a
personating
of
himself
,
a
satire
against
the
softness
of
prosperity
,
with
a
discovery
of
the
infinite
flatteries
that
follow
youth
and
opulency
.
,
aside
Must
thou
needs
stand
for
a
villain
in
thine
own
work
?
Wilt
thou
whip
thine
own
faults
in
other
men
?
Do
so
.
I
have
gold
for
thee
.
Nay
,
let’s
seek
him
.
Then
do
we
sin
against
our
own
estate
When
we
may
profit
meet
and
come
too
late
.
True
.
When
the
day
serves
,
before
black-cornered
night
,
Find
what
thou
want’st
by
free
and
offered
light
.
Come
.
,
aside
I’ll
meet
you
at
the
turn
.
What
a
god’s
gold
That
he
is
worshiped
in
a
baser
temple
Than
where
swine
feed
!
’Tis
thou
that
rigg’st
the
bark
and
plow’st
the
foam
,
Settlest
admirèd
reverence
in
a
slave
.
To
thee
be
worship
,
and
thy
saints
for
aye
Be
crowned
with
plagues
,
that
thee
alone
obey
!
Fit
I
meet
them
.
He
comes
forward
.
Hail
,
worthy
Timon
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Our
late
noble
master
.
Have
I
once
lived
to
see
two
honest
men
?
Sir
,
Having
often
of
your
open
bounty
tasted
,
Hearing
you
were
retired
,
your
friends
fall’n
off
,
Whose
thankless
natures
—
O
,
abhorrèd
spirits
!
Not
all
the
whips
of
heaven
are
large
enough
—
What
,
to
you
,
Whose
starlike
nobleness
gave
life
and
influence
To
their
whole
being
?
I
am
rapt
and
cannot
cover
The
monstrous
bulk
of
this
ingratitude
With
any
size
of
words
.
Let
it
go
naked
.
Men
may
see
’t
the
better
.
You
that
are
honest
,
by
being
what
you
are
Make
them
best
seen
and
known
.
He
and
myself
Have
travailed
in
the
great
shower
of
your
gifts
And
sweetly
felt
it
.
Ay
,
you
are
honest
men
.
We
are
hither
come
to
offer
you
our
service
.
Most
honest
men
!
Why
,
how
shall
I
requite
you
?
Can
you
eat
roots
and
drink
cold
water
?
No
?
What
we
can
do
we’ll
do
to
do
you
service
.
You’re
honest
men
.
You’ve
heard
that
I
have
gold
.
I
am
sure
you
have
.
Speak
truth
.
You’re
honest
men
.
So
it
is
said
,
my
noble
lord
,
but
therefor
Came
not
my
friend
nor
I
.
Good
honest
men
.
(
To
the
Painter
.
)
Thou
draw’st
a
counterfeit
ACT 5. SC. 1
Best
in
all
Athens
.
Thou
’rt
indeed
the
best
.
Thou
counterfeit’st
most
lively
.
So-so
,
my
lord
.
E’en
so
,
sir
,
as
I
say
.
(
To
the
Poet
.
)
And
for
thy
fiction
,
Why
,
thy
verse
swells
with
stuff
so
fine
and
smooth
That
thou
art
even
natural
in
thine
art
.
But
for
all
this
,
my
honest-natured
friends
,
I
must
needs
say
you
have
a
little
fault
.
Marry
,
’tis
not
monstrous
in
you
,
neither
wish
I
You
take
much
pains
to
mend
.
Beseech
your
Honor
To
make
it
known
to
us
.
You’ll
take
it
ill
.
Most
thankfully
,
my
lord
.
Will
you
indeed
?
Doubt
it
not
,
worthy
lord
.
There’s
never
a
one
of
you
but
trusts
a
knave
That
mightily
deceives
you
.
Do
we
,
my
lord
?
Ay
,
and
you
hear
him
cog
,
see
him
dissemble
,
Know
his
gross
patchery
,
love
him
,
feed
him
,
Keep
in
your
bosom
.
Yet
remain
assured
That
he’s
a
made-up
villain
.
I
know
none
such
,
my
lord
.
Nor
I
.
Look
you
,
I
love
you
well
.
I’ll
give
you
gold
.
Rid
me
these
villains
from
your
companies
,
Hang
them
or
stab
them
,
drown
them
in
a
draft
,
Confound
them
by
some
course
,
and
come
to
me
,
I’ll
give
you
gold
enough
.
Name
them
,
my
lord
,
let
’s
know
them
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
You
that
way
and
you
this
,
but
two
in
company
.
Each
man
apart
,
all
single
and
alone
,
Yet
an
archvillain
keeps
him
company
.
(
To
one
.
)
If
where
thou
art
,
two
villains
shall
not
be
,
Come
not
near
him
.
(
To
the
other
.
)
If
thou
wouldst
not
reside
But
where
one
villain
is
,
then
him
abandon
.
—
Hence
,
pack
.
There’s
gold
.
You
came
for
gold
,
you
slaves
.
(
To
one
.
)
You
have
work
for
me
.
There’s
payment
.
Hence
.
(
To
the
other
.
)
You
are
an
alchemist
;
make
gold
of
that
.
Out
,
rascal
dogs
!
Timon
drives
them
out
and
then
exits
.
Enter
Steward
Flavius
,
and
two
Senators
.
It
is
vain
that
you
would
speak
with
Timon
,
For
he
is
set
so
only
to
himself
That
nothing
but
himself
which
looks
like
man
Is
friendly
with
him
.
Bring
us
to
his
cave
.
It
is
our
part
and
promise
to
th’
Athenians
To
speak
with
Timon
.
At
all
times
alike
Men
are
not
still
the
same
.
’Twas
time
and
griefs
That
framed
him
thus
.
Time
,
with
his
fairer
hand
Offering
the
fortunes
of
his
former
days
,
The
former
man
may
make
him
.
Bring
us
to
him
,
And
chance
it
as
it
may
.
Here
is
his
cave
.
—
Peace
and
content
be
here
!
Lord
Timon
!
Timon
!
Look
out
,
and
speak
to
friends
.
Th’
Athenians
By
two
of
their
most
reverend
Senate
greet
thee
.
Speak
to
them
,
noble
Timon
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Enter
Timon
out
of
his
cave
.
Thou
sun
that
comforts
,
burn
!
—
Speak
and
be
hanged
!
For
each
true
word
a
blister
,
and
each
false
Be
as
a
cauterizing
to
the
root
o’
th’
tongue
,
Consuming
it
with
speaking
.
Worthy
Timon
—
Of
none
but
such
as
you
,
and
you
of
Timon
.
The
Senators
of
Athens
greet
thee
,
Timon
.
I
thank
them
and
would
send
them
back
the
plague
,
Could
I
but
catch
it
for
them
.
O
,
forget
What
we
are
sorry
for
ourselves
in
thee
.
The
Senators
with
one
consent
of
love
Entreat
thee
back
to
Athens
,
who
have
thought
On
special
dignities
which
vacant
lie
For
thy
best
use
and
wearing
.
They
confess
Toward
thee
forgetfulness
too
general
gross
;
Which
now
the
public
body
,
which
doth
seldom
Play
the
recanter
,
feeling
in
itself
A
lack
of
Timon’s
aid
,
hath
sense
withal
Of
it
own
fall
,
restraining
aid
to
Timon
,
And
send
forth
us
to
make
their
sorrowed
render
,
Together
with
a
recompense
more
fruitful
Than
their
offense
can
weigh
down
by
the
dram
—
Ay
,
even
such
heaps
and
sums
of
love
and
wealth
As
shall
to
thee
blot
out
what
wrongs
were
theirs
And
write
in
thee
the
figures
of
their
love
,
Ever
to
read
them
thine
.
You
witch
me
in
it
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
Surprise
me
to
the
very
brink
of
tears
.
Lend
me
a
fool’s
heart
and
a
woman’s
eyes
,
And
I’ll
beweep
these
comforts
,
worthy
senators
.
Therefore
,
so
please
thee
to
return
with
us
And
of
our
Athens
,
thine
and
ours
,
to
take
The
captainship
,
thou
shalt
be
met
with
thanks
;
Allowed
with
absolute
power
,
and
thy
good
name
Live
with
authority
.
So
soon
we
shall
drive
back
Of
Alcibiades
th’
approaches
wild
,
Who
like
a
boar
too
savage
doth
root
up
His
country’s
peace
.
And
shakes
his
threat’ning
sword
Against
the
walls
of
Athens
.
Therefore
,
Timon
—
Well
sir
,
I
will
.
Therefore
I
will
,
sir
,
thus
:
If
Alcibiades
kill
my
countrymen
,
Let
Alcibiades
know
this
of
Timon
—
That
Timon
cares
not
.
But
if
he
sack
fair
Athens
And
take
our
goodly
agèd
men
by
th’
beards
,
Giving
our
holy
virgins
to
the
stain
Of
contumelious
,
beastly
,
mad-brained
war
,
Then
let
him
know
,
and
tell
him
Timon
speaks
it
In
pity
of
our
agèd
and
our
youth
,
I
cannot
choose
but
tell
him
that
I
care
not
,
And
let
him
take
’t
at
worst
—
for
their
knives
care
not
,
While
you
have
throats
to
answer
.
For
myself
,
There’s
not
a
whittle
in
th’
unruly
camp
But
I
do
prize
it
at
my
love
before
The
reverend’st
throat
in
Athens
.
So
I
leave
you
To
the
protection
of
the
prosperous
gods
As
thieves
to
keepers
.
,
to
Senators
Stay
not
.
All’s
in
vain
.
Why
,
I
was
writing
of
my
epitaph
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
It
will
be
seen
tomorrow
.
My
long
sickness
Of
health
and
living
now
begins
to
mend
,
And
nothing
brings
me
all
things
.
Go
,
live
still
.
Be
Alcibiades
your
plague
,
you
his
,
And
last
so
long
enough
!
We
speak
in
vain
.
But
yet
I
love
my
country
and
am
not
One
that
rejoices
in
the
common
wrack
,
As
common
bruit
doth
put
it
.
That’s
well
spoke
.
Commend
me
to
my
loving
countrymen
.
These
words
become
your
lips
as
they
pass
through
them
.
And
enter
in
our
ears
like
great
triumphers
In
their
applauding
gates
.
Commend
me
to
them
And
tell
them
that
,
to
ease
them
of
their
griefs
,
Their
fears
of
hostile
strokes
,
their
aches
,
losses
,
Their
pangs
of
love
,
with
other
incident
throes
That
nature’s
fragile
vessel
doth
sustain
In
life’s
uncertain
voyage
,
I
will
some
kindness
do
them
.
I’ll
teach
them
to
prevent
wild
Alcibiades’
wrath
.
,
to
Second
Senator
I
like
this
well
.
He
will
return
again
.
I
have
a
tree
,
which
grows
here
in
my
close
,
That
mine
own
use
invites
me
to
cut
down
,
And
shortly
must
I
fell
it
.
Tell
my
friends
,
Tell
Athens
,
in
the
sequence
of
degree
From
high
to
low
throughout
,
that
whoso
please
To
stop
affliction
,
let
him
take
his
haste
,
ACT 5. SC. 2
Come
hither
ere
my
tree
hath
felt
the
ax
,
And
hang
himself
.
I
pray
you
,
do
my
greeting
.
,
to
Senators
Trouble
him
no
further
.
Thus
you
still
shall
find
him
.
Come
not
to
me
again
,
but
say
to
Athens
,
Timon
hath
made
his
everlasting
mansion
Upon
the
beachèd
verge
of
the
salt
flood
,
Who
once
a
day
with
his
embossèd
froth
The
turbulent
surge
shall
cover
.
Thither
come
And
let
my
gravestone
be
your
oracle
.
Lips
,
let
four
words
go
by
and
language
end
.
What
is
amiss
,
plague
and
infection
mend
.
Graves
only
be
men’s
works
,
and
death
their
gain
.
Sun
,
hide
thy
beams
.
Timon
hath
done
his
reign
.
Timon
exits
.
His
discontents
are
unremovably
Coupled
to
nature
.
Our
hope
in
him
is
dead
.
Let
us
return
And
strain
what
other
means
is
left
unto
us
In
our
dear
peril
.
It
requires
swift
foot
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
two
other
Senators
,
with
a
Messenger
.
Thou
hast
painfully
discovered
.
Are
his
files
As
full
as
thy
report
?
I
have
spoke
the
least
.
Besides
,
his
expedition
promises
Present
approach
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
We
stand
much
hazard
if
they
bring
not
Timon
.
I
met
a
courier
,
one
mine
ancient
friend
,
Whom
,
though
in
general
part
we
were
opposed
,
Yet
our
old
love
made
a
particular
force
And
made
us
speak
like
friends
.
This
man
was
riding
From
Alcibiades
to
Timon’s
cave
With
letters
of
entreaty
which
imported
His
fellowship
i’
th’
cause
against
your
city
,
In
part
for
his
sake
moved
.
Enter
the
other
Senators
.
Here
come
our
brothers
.
No
talk
of
Timon
;
nothing
of
him
expect
.
The
enemy’s
drum
is
heard
,
and
fearful
scouring
Doth
choke
the
air
with
dust
.
In
,
and
prepare
.
Ours
is
the
fall
,
I
fear
,
our
foe’s
the
snare
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
a
Soldier
in
the
woods
,
seeking
Timon
.
By
all
description
this
should
be
the
place
.
Who’s
here
?
Speak
,
ho
!
No
answer
?
What
is
this
?
He
reads
an
epitaph
.
Timon
is
dead
,
who
hath
out-stretched
his
span
.
Some
beast
read
this
;
there
does
not
live
a
man
.
Dead
,
sure
,
and
this
his
grave
.
What’s
on
this
tomb
I
cannot
read
.
The
character
I’ll
take
with
wax
.
Our
captain
hath
in
every
figure
skill
,
An
aged
interpreter
,
though
young
in
days
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
Before
proud
Athens
he’s
set
down
by
this
,
Whose
fall
the
mark
of
his
ambition
is
.
He
exits
.
Scene
4
Trumpets
sound
.
Enter
Alcibiades
with
his
Powers
before
Athens
.
Sound
to
this
coward
and
lascivious
town
Our
terrible
approach
.
Sounds
a
parley
.
The
Senators
appear
upon
the
walls
.
Till
now
you
have
gone
on
and
filled
the
time
With
all
licentious
measure
,
making
your
wills
The
scope
of
justice
.
Till
now
myself
and
such
As
slept
within
the
shadow
of
your
power
Have
wandered
with
our
traversed
arms
and
breathed
Our
sufferance
vainly
.
Now
the
time
is
flush
,
When
crouching
marrow
in
the
bearer
strong
Cries
of
itself
No
more
!
Now
breathless
wrong
Shall
sit
and
pant
in
your
great
chairs
of
ease
,
And
pursy
insolence
shall
break
his
wind
With
fear
and
horrid
flight
.
Noble
and
young
,
When
thy
first
griefs
were
but
a
mere
conceit
,
Ere
thou
hadst
power
or
we
had
cause
of
fear
,
We
sent
to
thee
to
give
thy
rages
balm
,
To
wipe
out
our
ingratitude
with
loves
Above
their
quantity
.
So
did
we
woo
Transformèd
Timon
to
our
city’s
love
By
humble
message
and
by
promised
means
.
We
were
not
all
unkind
,
nor
all
deserve
The
common
stroke
of
war
.
ACT 5. SC. 4
These
walls
of
ours
Were
not
erected
by
their
hands
from
whom
You
have
received
your
grief
,
nor
are
they
such
That
these
great
towers
,
trophies
,
and
schools
should
fall
For
private
faults
in
them
.
Nor
are
they
living
Who
were
the
motives
that
you
first
went
out
.
Shame
,
that
they
wanted
cunning
,
in
excess
Hath
broke
their
hearts
.
March
,
noble
lord
,
Into
our
city
with
thy
banners
spread
.
By
decimation
and
a
tithèd
death
,
If
thy
revenges
hunger
for
that
food
Which
nature
loathes
,
take
thou
the
destined
tenth
And
,
by
the
hazard
of
the
spotted
die
,
Let
die
the
spotted
.
All
have
not
offended
.
For
those
that
were
,
it
is
not
square
to
take
,
On
those
that
are
,
revenge
.
Crimes
,
like
lands
,
Are
not
inherited
.
Then
,
dear
countryman
,
Bring
in
thy
ranks
but
leave
without
thy
rage
.
Spare
thy
Athenian
cradle
and
those
kin
Which
in
the
bluster
of
thy
wrath
must
fall
With
those
that
have
offended
.
Like
a
shepherd
Approach
the
fold
and
cull
th’
infected
forth
,
But
kill
not
all
together
.
What
thou
wilt
,
Thou
rather
shalt
enforce
it
with
thy
smile
Than
hew
to
’t
with
thy
sword
.
Set
but
thy
foot
Against
our
rampired
gates
and
they
shall
ope
,
So
thou
wilt
send
thy
gentle
heart
before
To
say
thou
’lt
enter
friendly
.
Throw
thy
glove
,
Or
any
token
of
thine
honor
else
,
That
thou
wilt
use
the
wars
as
thy
redress
ACT 5. SC. 4
And
not
as
our
confusion
,
all
thy
powers
Shall
make
their
harbor
in
our
town
till
we
Have
sealed
thy
full
desire
.
Then
there’s
my
glove
.
Descend
and
open
your
unchargèd
ports
.
Those
enemies
of
Timon’s
and
mine
own
Whom
you
yourselves
shall
set
out
for
reproof
Fall
,
and
no
more
.
And
to
atone
your
fears
With
my
more
noble
meaning
,
not
a
man
Shall
pass
his
quarter
or
offend
the
stream
Of
regular
justice
in
your
city’s
bounds
But
shall
be
remedied
to
your
public
laws
At
heaviest
answer
.
’Tis
most
nobly
spoken
.
Descend
and
keep
your
words
.
The
Senators
descend
.
Enter
a
Soldier
,
with
the
wax
tablet
.
My
noble
general
,
Timon
is
dead
,
Entombed
upon
the
very
hem
o’
th’
sea
,
And
on
his
gravestone
this
insculpture
,
which
With
wax
I
brought
away
,
whose
soft
impression
Interprets
for
my
poor
ignorance
.
reads
the
epitaph
.
Here
lies
a
wretched
corse
,
of
wretched
soul
bereft
.
Seek
not
my
name
.
A
plague
consume
you
,
wicked
caitiffs
left
!
Here
lie
I
,
Timon
,
who
,
alive
,
all
living
men
did
hate
.
Pass
by
and
curse
thy
fill
,
but
pass
and
stay
not
here
thy
gait
.
These
well
express
in
thee
thy
latter
spirits
.
Though
thou
abhorred’st
in
us
our
human
griefs
,
Scorned’st
our
brains’
flow
and
those
our
droplets
which
From
niggard
nature
fall
,
yet
rich
conceit
ACT 5. SC. 4
Taught
thee
to
make
vast
Neptune
weep
for
aye
On
thy
low
grave
,
on
faults
forgiven
.
Dead
Is
noble
Timon
,
of
whose
memory
Hereafter
more
.
Bring
me
into
your
city
,
And
I
will
use
the
olive
with
my
sword
,
Make
war
breed
peace
,
make
peace
stint
war
,
make
each
Prescribe
to
other
as
each
other’s
leech
.
Let
our
drums
strike
.
Drums
.
They
exit
.
all or part of a full metrical line
all or part of a prose speech
a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose
editorial emendation