THE HISTORY OF Timon of Athens, THE MAN-HATER. As it is acted at the DUKE'S THEATRE. Made into a PLAY.  
By THO. SHADWELL.  
Licenced, Feb. 18. 1677/ 8. Ro. L'Estrange.  
LONDON, Printed by J. M. for Henry Herringman, at the Blue Anchor, in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange, 1678.   

To the Most ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE GEORGE DUKE of BUCKINGHAM, etc.  
May it please your Grace,  
NOthing could ever contribute more to my having a good opinion of myself, than the being favoured by your Grace: The thought of which has so exalted me, that I can no longer conceal my Pride from the World; but must publish the Joy I receive in having so noble a Patron, and one so excelling in Wit and judgement; Qualities which even your Enemies could never doubt of, or detract from. And which make all good men and men of sense admire you, and none but Fools and ill men fear you for 'em. I am extremely sensible what honour it is to me that my Writings are approved by your Grace; who in your own have so clearly shown the excellency of Wit and judgement in yourself, and so justly the defect of 'em in others, that they at once serve for the greatest example, and the sharpest reproof. And no man who has perfectly understood the Rehearsal, and some other of your Writings, if he has any Genius at all, can write ill after it.  
I pretend not of an Epistle to make a Declamation upon these and your other excellent Qualities. For naming the Duke of Buckingham is enough: who cannot have greater commendations from me than all who have the honour to know him already give him. Amongst which number I think it my greatest happiness to be one, and can never be prouder of any thing can arrive to me, than of the honour of having been admitted sometimes into your grace's Conversation, the most charming in the World. I am now to present your Grace with this History of Timon, which you were pleased to tell me you liked, and it is the more worthy of you, since it has the inimitable hand of Shakespeare in it, which never made more Masterly strokes than in this. Yet I can truly say, I have made it into a Play. Which I humbly lay at your feet, begging the continuance of your Favour, which no man can value more than I shall ever do, who am unfeignedly,  
My Lord, Your Graces Most Obedient, humble Servant, THO. SHADWELL.   

Prologue TO TIMON.  

SInce the bare glean of the stage are grown  
The only portion for brisk Wits o'th' Town,  
We mean such as have no crop of their own;  
Methinks you should encourage them that sow,  
Who are to watch and gather what does grow.  
Thus a poor Poet must maintain a Muse,  
As you do Mistresses for others use:  
The wittiest Play can serve him but one day,  
Though for three months it finds you what to say.  
Yet you your Creditors of wit will fail,  
And never pay, but borrow on and rail.  
Poor echoes can repeat wit, though they've none,  
Like bagpipes they no sound have of their own,  
Till some into their emptiness be blown.  
Yet—  
To be thought Wits and Judges they're so glad,  
And labour for't, as if they were Wit-mad.  
Some will keep Tables for the wit's o'th'Nation,  
And Poets eat them into reputation.  
Some scribblers will Wit their whole business make,  
For laboured dullness grievous pains will take;  
And when with many Throes they've travailed long,  
They now and then bring forth a Foolish Song.  
One Fop all modern Poets will condemn,  
And by this means a perilous judge will seem.  
Wit is a common Idol, and in vain  
Fops try a thousand ways the name to gain.  
Pray judge the nauseous Farces of the Age,  
And meddle not with sense upon the Stage;  
To you our Poet no one line submits,  
Who such a Coil will keep to be thought Wits:  
'Tis you who truly are so, he would please;  
But knows it is not to be done with ease.  
In the Art of Judging you as wise are grown,  
As in their choice some Ladies of the Town.  
Your neat shaped Barbary Wits you will despise,  
And none but lusty Sinewy Writers prize.  
Old English Shakespeare stomaches you have still,  
And judge as our forefathers writ with skill.  
You Coin the Wit, the Witlings of the Town  
Retailers are, that spread it up and down;  
Set but your stamp upon't, though it be brass,  
With all the Wou'd-be-Wits, 'twill currant pass.  
Try it to day and we are sure 'twill hit,  
All to your sovereign Empire must submit.    

Timon of Athens, OR THE MAN-HATER.  
ACT I. SCENE i  Demetrius. Dem. 

HOw strange it is to see my Riotous Lord  
With careless Luxury betray himself!  
To Feast and Revel all his hours away;  
Without account how fast his Treasure ebbs,  
How slowly flows, and when I warned him of  
His following dangers, with his rigorous frowns  
He nipped my growing honesty i'th' Bud,  
And killed it quite; and well for me he did so.  
It was a barren Stock would yield no Fruit:  
But now like Evil counsellors I comply,  
And lull him in his soft lethargic life.  
And like such cursed Politicians can  
Share in the headlong ruin, and will rise by't:  
What vast rewards to nauseous Flatterers,  
To Pimps, and Women, what Estates he gives!  
And shall I have no share? Be gone, all Honesty,  
Thou foolish, slender, threadbare, starving thing, be gone!   Enter Poet. 
Here's a fellow-horseleech: How now Poet, how goes the world?  Poet. 
Why, it wears as it grows: but is Lord Timon visible?  Dem. 
he'll come out suddenly, what have you to present him?  Poet. 
A little offspring of my fruitful Muse: She's in travel daily for his honour.  Dem. 

For your own profit, you gross flatterer.  
By his damned panegyrics he has written [Aside.  
Himself up to my Lord's Table,  
Which he seldom fails; nay, into his Chariot,  
Where he in public does not blush to own  
The sordid scribbler.   Poet. 
The last thing I presented my Noble Lord was Epigram: But this is in heroic style.  Dem. 
What d'ye mean by style? that of good sense is all alike; that is to say, with apt and easy words, not one too little or too much: And this I think good style.  Poet. 

O Sir, you are wide o'th' matter! apt and easy!  
Heroics must be lofty and high sounding;  
No easy language in heroic Verse;  
'Tis most unfit: for should I name a Lion,  
I must not in heroics call him so!   Dem. 
What then?  Poet. 

I'd as soon call him an Ass. No thus—  
The fierce Numidian Monarch of the Beasts.   Dem. 
That's lofty, is it?  Poet. 

O yes! but a Lion would sound so baldly, not to be  
Endured, and a Bull too--- but  
The mighty warrior of the horned Race:  
Ah--- how that sounds!   Dem. 
Then I perceive sound's the great matter in this way.  Poet. 
Ever while you live.  Dem. 
How would you sound a Fox as you call it?  Poet. 
A Fox is but a scurvy Beast for heroic Verse.  Dem. 
Hum--- is it so? how will a Raven do in Heroick?  Poet. 

Oh very well, Sir.  
That black and dreadful fate-denouncing fowl.   Dem. 
An excellent sound--- But let me see your Piece.  Poet. 
I'll read it--- 'Tis a good morrow to the Lord Timon.  Dem. 
Do you make good morrow sound loftily?  Poet. 
Oh very loftily!—  

The fringed Vallance of your eyes advance,  
Shake off your canopyed and downy trance:  
Phoebus already quaffs the morning dew,  
Each does his daily lease of life renew.   
Now you shall hear description, 'tis the very life of Poetry.  

He darts his beams on the lark's mossie-house,  
And from his quiet tenement does rouse  
The little charming and harmonious Fowl,  
Which sings its lump of Body to a Soul:  
Swiftly it clambers up in the steep air  
With warbling throat, and makes each note a stair.   
There's rapture for you! hah!—  Dem. 
Very fine.  Poet. 

This the solicitous Lover strait alarms,  
Who too long slumbered in his Coelia's arms:  
And now the swelling sponges of the night  
With aching heads stagger from their delight:  
Slovenly tailors to their needle's haste:  
Already now the moving shops are placed  
By those who crop the treasures of the fields,  
And all those Gems the ripening Summer yields.   
Who d'ye think are now? Why— Nothing but herbwomen: there are fine lofty expressions for herbwomen! Ha'!--- Already now, etc.  Dem. 
But what's all this to my Lord?  Poet. 
No, that's true, 'tis description though.  Dem. 

Yes, in twenty lines to describe to him that 'tis about  
The fourth hour in the morning— I'll in and let  
Him know in three words 'tis the seventh.   [Exit Demetrius. Enter Musician. Poet. 
Good morning Sir: whither this way?  Mus. 
To present his Honour with a piece of Musiek.  Enter Demetrius. Dem. 
My Lord will soon come out.  Poet. 

He's the very spirit of Nobility—  
And like the Sun when ever he breaks forth,  
His Universal bounty falls on all.   Enter Merchant, Jeweller, Painter, and several others. Jewel. 
Good morrow Gentlemen.  Paint. 
Save you all.  Dem. 
Now they begin to swarm about the house!  Poet. 

What confluence the worthy Timon draws?  
magic of bounty— These familiar Spirits  
Are conjured up by thee.   Merch. 
'Tis a splendid Jewel.  Jewel. 
'Tis of an excellent water.  Poet. 
What have you there, Sir?  Paint. 
It is a Picture Sir, a dumb piece of Poetry: but you present a speaking Poem.  Poet. 

I have a little thing slipped idly from me:  
The fire within the flint shows not itself  
Till it be struck; our gentle flame provokes  
Itself—   Dem. 

You writ so scurvily, the Devil's in any man that provokes  
You, but yourself.   Poet. 
It is a pretty mocking of the life.  Paint. 
So, so.  Dem. 

Now must these Rascals be presented all,  
As if they had saved his honour or his life;  
And I must have a feeling in the business.   Enter certain senator's going in to Timon. Poet. 
How this Lord is followed!  [Enter more who pass over. Paint. 
See more, well, he's a noble spirit!  Jewel. 
A most worthy Lord!  Poet. 
What a flood of Visitors his bounty draws!  Dem. 

You see how all conditions, how all minds,  
As well of glib and slippery Creatures, as  
Of grave and austere quality, present  
Their services to Lord Timon's prosperous fortune.  
He to his good and gracious nature does subdue  
All sorts of tempers, from the smooth faced flatterer  
To Apemantus, that Philosophical churl  
Who hates the world, and does almost abhor  
Himself—   Paint. 
He is a most excellent Lord, and makes the finest Picture!  Poet. 
The joy of all mankind; deserves a Homer for his Poet.  Jewel. 
A most accomplished person!  Poet. 
The Glory of the Age!  Paint. 
Above all parallel!  Dem. 

And yet these Rogues, were this man poor, would fly him,  
As I would them, if I were he.   [Soft music. Poet. 

Here's excellent music!  
In what delights he melts his hours away!   Enter Timon and senator's, Timon addressing himself courteously to all. Tim. 

My Lord, you wrong yourself, and 'bate too much  
Of your own merits: 'Tis but a trifle.   Aelius. 
With more than common thanks I must receive it.  Isidore. 
Your Lordship has the very soul of bounty.  Phaeax. 
You load us with too many Obligations.  Tim. 

I never can oblige my friends too much.  
My Lord, I remember you the other day  
Commended a Bay Courser which I road on.  
He's yours, because you liked him.   Phaeax. 
I beseech your Lordship pardon me in this.  Tim. 

My word is past: is there ought else you like?  
I know my Lord, no man can justly praise  
But what he does affect; and I must weigh  
My Friends affections with my own:  
So kindly I receive your visits, Lords:  
My heart is not enough to give, me thinks,  
I could deal Kingdoms to my Friends and ne'er be weary.   Aelius. 
We all must stand amazed at your vast bounty!  Cleon. 
The spirit of Magnificence reigns in you!  Phoeax. 
Your Bounty's as diffusive as the Sea.  Tim. 
My Noble Lords, you do me too much honour.  Isand. 
There lives not such a Noble Lord on Earth.  Thrasil. 

None but the Sun and He oblige without  
A prospect of Return.   Enter a Messenger and whispers Timon. Tim. 
Lampridius imprisoned! say you?  Mess. 

Yes, my good Lord, five Talents is his debt:  
His Means are short, his Creditors most strict,  
He begs your Letter to those cruel men,  
That may preserve him from his utter ruin.   Tim. 

I am not of that temper to shake off  
My Friend when most he needs me: I know him,  
A Gentleman that well deserves my help;  
Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him.   Mess. 
Your Lordship ever binds him to your service.  Tim. 

Commend me to him, I will send his Ransom,  
And when he's free, bid him depend on me:  
'tis not enough to help the feeble up,  
But to support him after— tell him so.   Mess. 
All happiness to your honour.  [Exit Messenger. Enter an Old Athenian. Old Man. 
My Lord, pray hear me speak.  Tim. 
Freely, good Father.  Old Man. 
You have a Servant named Diphilus.  Tim. 
I have so, that is he.  Old Man. 

That fellow there by night frequents my house,  
I am a man that from my first have been  
Inclined to thrift, and my Estate deserves  
A nobler Heir than one that holds a trencher.   Tim 
Go on.  Old Man 

I have an only Daughter: 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.  
This man attempts her love; pray my good Lord  
Join with me to forbid him; I have often  
Told him my mind in vain.   Tim. 
The man is honest.  Old Man. 

His honesty rewards him in himself;  
It must not bear my Daughter.   Tim. 
Does she love him?  Old Man. 
She is young and apt.  Tim. 
Do you love her?  Diffil. 
Yes, my good Lord, and she accepts of mine.  Old Man. 

If to her marriage my consent be wanting,  
I call the gods to witness, I will make  
The Beggars of the street my Heirs ere she  
Shall have a drachma.   Tim. 

This Gentleman of mine has served me long;  
There is a duty from a Master too:  
To build his Fortune I will strain a little,  
What e'er your daughter's Portion weighs, this  
Man's shall counterpoise.   Old Man. 

Say you so my Noble Lord! upon your honour  
This, and she is his.   Tim. 
Give me thy hand: my Honour on my promise.  Diffil. 

My Noble Lord, I thank you on my knees:  
May I be as miserable as I shall be base  
When I forget this most surprising favour:  
No Fortune or Estate shall e'er be mine,  
Which I'll not humbly lay before your feet.   Tim. 

Rise. I ne'er do good with prospect of return,  
That were but merchandizing, a mere trade  
Of putting kindness out to use.   Poet. 
Vouchsafe to accept my labours, and long live your Lordship.  Tim. 

I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:  
What have you there my friend?   Paint. 
A piece of Limning for your Lordship.  Tim. 
'Tis welcome. I like it, and you shall find I do.  Jewel. 
My Lord, here is the Jewel!  Tim. 
'Tis Excellent!  Enter Apemantus. Jewel. 
Your Lordship mends the Jewel by the wearing.  Tim. 
Well mocked.  Poet. 
No, my good Lord, he speaks what all men think.  Apem. 

Scum of all flatterers, wilt thou still persist  
For filthy gain, to gild and varnish o'er  
This great Man's Vanities!   Tim. 
Nay, now we must be chidden.  Poet. 
I can bear with your Lordship.  Apem. 

Yes, and without him too: vain credulous Timon,  
If thou believest this Knave, thou'rt a fool.   Tim. 
Well, gentle Apemantus, good morrow to thee.  Apem. 

Till, I am gentle; stay for thy good morrow  
Till thou art Timon's dog, and these Knaves honest.   Tim. 
Why dost thou call them Knaves?  Apem. 

They're Athenians, and I'll not recant;  
theyare all base Fawners; what a coil is here  
With smiling, cringing, jutting out of Bums:  
I wonder whether all the legs they make  
Are worth the sums they cost you; friendship's full  
Of dregs; base filthy dregs.  
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth for cringes.   Ailius. 
Do you know us fellow?  Apem. 
Did I not call you by your names?  Tim. 
Thou preachest against Vice, and thou thyself art proud Apemantus.  Apem. 
Proud! that I am not Timon.  Tim. 
Why so?  Apem. 

To give belief to flattering Knaves and Poets,  
And to be still myself my greatest flatterer:  
What should Great Men be proud of stead of noise  
And pomp and show, and holding up their heads,  
And cocking of their noses; pleased to see  
Base smiling Knaves, and cringing fools bow to 'em?  
Did they but see their own ridiculous folly,  
Their mean and absurd vanities; they'd hid  
Their heads within some dark and little corner,  
And be afraid that every fool should find 'em.   Tim. 
Thou hast too much sowrness in thy blood.  Poet. 
Hang him,— ne'er mind him—  Apem. 

What is this foolish animal man, that we  
Should magnify him so? a little warm,  
And walking Earth that will be ashes soon;  
We come into the world crying and squalling,  
And so much of our time's consumed in driv'ling infancy,  
In ignorance sleep, disease and trouble, that  
The remainder is not worth the being reared to.   Phaeax. 
A preaching fool.  Apem. 

A fool? if thou hadst half my wit thou'dst find  
Thyself an Ass! Is it not truth I speak?  
Are not all the arts and subtleties of men,  
All their Inventions, all their Sciences,  
All their Diversions, all their Sports, little enough  
To pass away their happiest hours with,  
And make a heavy life be born with patience?   Tim. 

I with the help of friends will make mine easier  
Than what your melancholy frames.   Apem. 

How little dost thou look before thee!  
Thou, who tak'st such great felicity in Fools and Knaves,  
And in thy own enjoyments, wilt e'er long  
Find 'em such thin, such poor and empty shadows,  
That thou wilt wish thou never hadst been born.   Tim. 
I do not think so.  Phaeax. 

Hang him, send him to the Areopagus, and let him  
Be whipped!   Apem. 

Thus innocence, truth and merit often suffer,  
Whilst injurers, oppressors and desertless fools  
Swell in their brief authority, look big  
And strut in Furs; 'tis a foul shame,  
But 'tis a loathsome Age,— it has been long  
Imposthumating with its villainy;  
And now the swelling's broken out  
In most contagious ulcers; no place free  
From the destructive Pestilence of manners;  
Out upon't, 'tis time the world should end!   Tim. 
Do not rail so— 'tis to little purpose.  Apem. 

I fear it is, I have done my morning lecture,  
And I'll be gone—   Tim. 
Whither?  Apem. 
To knock out an honest Athenians brains.  Tim. 
Why? that's a deed thou'lt die for Apemantus.  Apem. 
Yes, if doing nothing be death by the Law.  Tim. 
Will nothing please thee? how dost thou like this Picture?  Apem. 

Better than the thing 'twas drawn for, 'twill  
Neither lie, drink, nor whore,  
Flatter a man to his face, and cut his  
Throat behind his back;  
For since false smiles, and base  
Dishonour traffic with man's nature,  
He is but mere outside; Pictures are  
Even such as they give out: Oh! did you see  
The insides of these Fellows minds about you,  
You'd loathe the base corruptions more than all  
The putrid Excrements their bodies hid.   Aelius. 
Silence the foul mouthed villain.  Tim. 
He hurts not us. How lik'st thou this Jewel?  Apem. 

Not so well as plain dealing, which will not cost a  
Man a doit.   Tim. 
What dost thou think this Jewel worth?  Apem. 

What fools esteem it, it is not worth my thinking.  
Lo, now the mighty use of thy great Riches!  
That must set infinite value on a bauble!  
Will't keep thee warm, or satisfy thy thirst,  
Or hunger? No, it is comparison  
That gives it value; then, thou look'st upon  
Thy finger, and art very proud to think  
A poor man cannot have it: Childish pleasure!  
What stretched inventions must be found to make  
Great wealth of use? Oh! that I were a Lord!   Tim. 
What wouldst thou do?  Apem. 

I would cudgel two men a day for flattering me,  
Till I had beaten the whole Senate.   Phaeax. 

Let the Villain be sound punished for his  
Licentious tongue.   Tim. 

No, the man is honest, 'tis his humour: 'Tis odd,  
And methinks pleasant. You must dine with me Apemantus.   Apem. 
I devour no Lords.  Tim. 
No, if you did, the Ladies would be angry.  Apem. 

Yet they with all their modest simpering,  
And varnished looks can swallow Lords, and get  
Great bellies by't, yet keep their virtuous  
Vizors on, till a poor little Bastard steals into  
The world, and tells a tale.   Enter Nicius. Tim. 

My Noble Lord, welcome! most welcome to my arms!  
You are the Fountain from which all my happiness  
Did spring! your matchless Daughter, fair Mellissa.   Nic. 
You honour us too much my Lord.  Tim. 

I cannot, she is the joy of Athens! the chief delight  
Of Nature, the only life I live by: Oh, that her vows  
Were once expired; it is methinks an Age till that blessed day  
When we shall join our hands and hearts together.   Nic. 
'Tis but a week, my Lord.  Tim. 
'Tis a thousand years.  Apem. 

Thou miserable Lord, hast thou to complete  
All thy calamities, that plague of Love,  
That most unmanly madness of the mind,  
That specious cheat, as false as friendship is?  
Didst thou but see how like a sniveling thing  
Thou look'st and talk'st, thou wouldst abhor or laugh at  
Thy own admired Image.   Tim. 
Peace: I will hear no railing on this subject.  Apem. 

Oh vile corrupted time, that men should be  
Deaf to good Counsel, not to flattery.   Tim. 

Come my dear friends, let us now visit our gardens,  
And refresh ourselves with some cool Wines and Fruit:  
I am transported with your Visits!  
There is not now a Prince whom I can envy,  
Unless it be in that he can more bestow  
Upon the men he loves.   Aelius. 
My Noble Lord, who would not wed your friendship, though without a dowry?  Isodor. 
Most worthy Timon! who has a life you may not call your own?  Phaeax. 
We are all your slaves.  Poet. 
The joy of all Mankind.  Jewel. 
Great spirit of Nobleness.  Tim. 
We must not part this day my Friends.  Apem. 

So, so, crouching slaves aches contract and make your supple  
Joints to whither; that there should be so little  
Love among these Knaves, yet all this courtesy!  
They hate and scorn each other, yet they kiss  
As if they were of different Sexes: Villains, Villains.   Exeunt Omnes. Enter Evandra. Re-enter Timon. Tim. 

Hail to the fair Evandra! methinks your looks are changed,  
And clouded with some grief that misbecomes 'em.   Evan. 

My Lord, my ears this morning were saluted with  
The most unhappy news, the dismal'st story  
The only one could have afflicted me;  
My dream foretold it, and I waked affrighted  
With a cold sweat o'er all my limbs.   Tim. 
What was it Madam?  Evand. 

You speak not with the kindness you were wont,  
I have been used to tenderer words than these:  
It is too true, and I am miserable!   Tim. 
What is't disturbs you so? too well I guess.  [Aside. Evan. 

I hear I am to lose your Love, which was  
The only earthly bless I enjoyed,  
And that on which my life depended.   Tim. 
No, I must ever love my Excellent Evandra!  Evan. 

Melissa will not suffer it: Oh cruel Timon,  
Thou well may'st blush at thy ingratitude!  
Had I so much towards thee, I ne'er should show  
My face without confusion: Such a guilt,  
As if I had destroyed thy Race, and ruined  
All thy Estate, and made thee infamous!  
Thy Love to me I could prefer before  
All cold respects of Kindred, Wealth and Fame.   Tim. 

You have been kind so far above return,  
That 'tis beyond expression.   Evan. 

Call to mind  
Whose Race I sprung from, that of great Alcides,  
Though not my Fortune, my Beauty and my Youth  
And my unspotted Fame yielded to none.  
You on your knees a thousand times have sworn,  
That they exceeded all, and yet all these,  
The only treasures a poor Maid possessed,  
I sacrificed to you, and rather chose  
To throw myself away, than you should be  
Uneasy in your wishes; since which happy  
And yet unhappy time, you have been to me,  
My Life, my Joy, my Earth, my Heaven, my All,  
I never had one single wish beyond you;  
Nay, every action, every thought of mine,  
How far soe'er their large circumference  
Stretched out, yet centred all in you: You were  
My End, the only thing could fill my mind.   Tim. 

She strikes me to the heart! I would I had  
Not seen her.   [Aside. Evan. 

Ah Timon, I have loved you so, that had  
My eyes offended you, I with these fingers  
Had plucked 'em by the roots, and cast them from me:  
Or had my heart contained one thought that was  
Not yours, I with this hand would rip it open:  
Show me a Wife in Athens can say this;  
And yet I am not one, but you are now to marry.   Tim. 

That I have loved you, you and heaven can witness  
By many long repeated acts of Love,  
And Bounty I have showed you—   Evan. 

Bounty! ah Timon!  
I am not yet so mean, but I contemn  
Your transitory dirt, and all rewards,  
But that of Love, your person was the bound  
Of all my thoughts and wishes, in return  
You have loved me! Oh miserable sound!  
I would you never had, or always would.   Tim. 

Man is not master of his appetites,  
Heaven sways our mind to Love.   Evan. 

But Hell to falseshood:  
How many thousand times ye have vowed and sworn  
Eternal Love; heaven has not yet absolved  
You of your Oaths to me; nor can I ever,  
My Love's as much too much as yours too little.   Tim. 

If you love me, you'll love my happiness,  
Melissa; Beauty and her Love to me  
Has so inflamed me, I can have none without her.   Evan. 

If I had loved another, when you first,  
My dear, false Timon swore to me, would you  
Have wished I might have found my happiness  
Within another's arms? No, no, it is  
To love a contradiction.   Tim. 
'Tis a truth I cannot answer.  Evan. 

Besides, Melissa's beauty  
Is not believed to exceed my little stock,  
Even modesty may praise itself when 'tis  
Aspersed: But her Love is mercenary,  
Most mercenary, base, 'tis Marriage Love:  
She gives her person, but in vile exchange  
She does demand your liberty: But I  
Can generously give without mean bargaining:  
I trusted to your honour, and lost mine,  
Lost all my Friends and Kindred: but little thought  
I should have lost my Love, and cast it on  
A barren and ungrateful soil that would return no fruit.   Tim. 
This does perplex me, I must break it off.  [Aside. Evan. 

The first storm of your Love did shake me so,  
It threw down all my leaves, my hopeful blossoms,  
Pulled down my branches; but this lat'er tempest of your hate  
Strikes at my root, and I must whither now,  
Like a desertless, sapless tree: must fall—   Tim. 

You are secure against all injuries  
While I have breath—   Evan. 
And yet you do the greatest.  Timon. 

You shall be so much partner of my fortune  
As will secure you full respect from all,  
And may support your quality in what pomp  
You can desire.   Evan. 

I am not of so course a Mould, or have  
So gross a mind, as to partake of aught  
That's yours without you—  
But, oh thou too dear perjured man, I could  
With thee prefer a dungeon, a low and loathsome dungeon  
Before the stately guilded fretted Roofs,  
The Pomp, the noise, the show, the revelling,  
And all the glittering splendour of a Palace.   Tim. 
I by resistless fate am hurried on—  Evan. 
A vulgar, mean excuse for doing ill.  Tim. 
If that were not, my honour is engaged—  Evan. 
It had a pre-engagement—  Tim. 

All the great men of Athens urge me on  
To marry and to preserve my Race.   Evan. 

Suppose your Wife be false; (as 'tis not new  
In Athens;) and suffer others to graft upon  
Your stock; where is your Race? weak vulgar reason!   Tim. 
Her honour will not suffer her.  Evan. 
She may do it cunningly and keep her honour.  Tim. 
Her love will then secure her; which is as fervent  Evan. 

As yours was once to me, and may continue  
Perhaps as long, and yet you cannot know  
She loves you. Since that base Cecropian Law  
Made Love a merchandise, to traffic hearts  
For marriage, and for Dowry, who's secure?  
Now her great sign of Love, is, she's content  
To bind you in the strongest chains, and to  
A slavery, nought can manumize you from  
But death: And I could be content to be  
A slave to you, without those vile conditions—   Tim. 

Why are not our desires within our power?  
Or why should we be punished for obeying them?  
But we cannot create our own affections;  
They're moved by some invisible active power,  
And we are only passive, and whatsoever  
Of imperfection follows from th' obedience  
To our desires, we suffer, not commit  
And 'tis a cruel and a hard decree,  
That we must suffer first, and then be punished for't.   Evan. 

Your Philosophy is too subtle— but what  
Security of Love from her can be like mine?  
Is Marriage a bond of Truth, which does consist  
Of a few trifling Ceremonies? Or are those  
Charms or Philters? 'Tis true, my Lord, I was not  
First lifted o'er the Threshold, and then  
Led by my Parents to Minerva's Temple:  
No young unyoked Heifers blood was offered  
To Diana; no invocation to juno, or the Parcaes:  
No Coachman drove me with a lighted torch;  
Nor was your house adorned with Garlands then;  
Nor had I Figs thrown on my head, or lighted  
By my dear mother's torches to your bed:  
Are these slight things, the bonds of truth and constancy?  
I came all Love into your arms, unmixed  
With other aims; and you for this will cause  
My death.   Tim. 
I'd sooner seek my own, Evandra.  Evan. 

Ah, my Lord, if that be true, then go not to Melissa,  
For I shall die to see another have  
Possession of all that e'er I wished for on earth.   Tim. 
I would I had not seen Melissa:—  Evan. 

Ah my dear Lord, there is some comfort left;  
Cherish those noble thoughts, and they'll grow stronger,  
Your lawful gratitude and Love will rise,  
And quell the other rebel-passion in you;  
Use all the endeavours which you can, and if  
They fail in my relief, I'll die to make you happy.   Tim. 

You have moved me to be womanish; pray retire,  
I will love you.   Evan. 

Oh happy word! Heaven ever bless my Dear;  
Farewell: but will you never see Mellissa more?   Tim. 
Sweet Excellence! Retire.  Evan. 
I will— will you remember your Evandra?  Tim. 

Yes, I will.  
How happy were Mankind in Constancy,  
'Twould equal us with the Celestial Spirits!  
O could we meet with the same tremble still,  
Those panting joys, those furious desires,  
Those happy trances which we found at first!  
But, oh!   

Unhappy man, whose most transporting joy  
Feeds on such luscious food as soon will cloy,  
And that which should preserve, does it destroy.   [Exit Timon.  

ACT II.  Enter Melissa and Chloe. 
WHat thinkest thou Chloe? will this dress become me?  Chlo. 

Oh, most exceedingly! This pretty curl  
Does give you such a kill Grace, I swear  
That all the Youth at the Lord Timon's Mask  
Will die for you.   Mel. 

No: But dost thou think so Chloe? I love  
To make those Fellows die for me, and I  
All the while look so scornfully, and then with my  
Head on one side, with a languishing eye I do so  
Kill 'em again: Prithee, what do they say of me, Chloe?   Chlo. 

Say! That you are the Queen of all their hearts,  
Their Goddess, their Destiny, and talk of Cupid's flames,  
And darts, and Wounds! Oh the rarest language,  
'Twould make one die to hear it; and ever now  
And then steal some gold into my hand,  
And then commend me too.   Mel. 
Dear Soul, do they, and do they die for me?  Chlo. 
Oh yes, the finest, properest Gentlemen—  Mel. 
But there are not many that die for me? humh—  Chlo. 
Oh yes, Lamachus, Theodorus, Thessalus, Eumolpides, Memnon, and indeed all that see your ladyship.  Mel. 
I'll swear? how is my complexion to day? Ha' Chloe?  Chlo. 
O most fragrant! 'tis a rare white wash this!  Mel. 

I think it is the best I ever bought; had I not best  
Lay on some more red Chloe?   Chlo. 

A little more would do well; it makes you look  
So pretty, and so plump, Madam.   Mel. 
I have been too long this morning in dressing.  Chlo. 
Oh no, I vow you have been but bare three hours.  Mel. 

No more! well, if I were sure to be thus pretty but seven  
Years, I'd be content to die then on that condition.   Chlo. 
The gods forbidden.  Mel. 

I'll swear I would; but dost thou think Timon will  
Like me in this dress?   Chlo. 
Oh he dies for you in any dress, Madam!  Mel. 

Oh this vile tailor that brought me not home my new  
Habit to day; he deserves the ostracism! a Villain,  
To disorder me so; I am afraid it has done harm  
To my complexion: I have dreamt of it these two nights,  
And shall not recover it this week—   Chlo. 
Indeed Madam he deserves death from your eyes.  Mel. 

I think I look pretty well? will not Timon  
Perceive my disorder?— hah—   Chlo. 

Oh no, but you speak as if you made this kill  
Preparation for none but Timon.   Mel. 

O yes, Chloe, for every one, I love to have all the  
Young Blades follow, kiss my hand, admire, adore me,  
And die for me: but I must have but one favoured  
Servant; it is the game and not the quarry, I  
Must look after it in the rest.   Chlo. 
Oh Lord, I would have as many admirers as I could.  Mel. 

Ay so would I— but favour one alone.  
No, I am resolved nothing shall corrupt my honesty;  
Those admirers would make one a whore Chloe,  
And that undoes us, 'tis our interest to be honest.   Chlo. 

Would they? No I warrant you, I'd fain see  
Any of those admirers make me a Whore.   Mel. 
Timon loves me honestly and is rich—  Chlo. 

You have forgot your Alcibiades:  
He is the rarest person!   Mel. 

No, no, I could love him dearly: oh he was the beautiful'st man,  
The finest wit in Athens, the best companion, fullest of mirth  
And pleasure, and the prettiest ways he had to please Ladies,  
He would make his enemies rejoice to see him.   Chlo. 
Why? he is all this, and can do all this still.  Mel. 

Ay, but he has been long banished for breaking Mercury's  
Images, and profaning the mysteries of Proserpina;  
Besides, the people took his Estate from him,  
And I hate a poor Fellow, from my heart I swear:  
I vow methinks I look so pretty to day, I could  
Kiss myself Chloe.   Chlo. 

Oh dear Madam— I could look on you for ever: oh  
What a world of murder you'll commit to day!   Mel. 
Dost thou think so? Ha'! Ha'! no, no—  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
The Lord Timon's come to wait on you, and begs Admittance.  Enter Timon. Mel. 
Desire his presence.  Tim. 

There is enchantment in her looks,  
A fresh I am wounded every time I see her:  
All happiness to beautiful Melissa.   Mel. 
I shall want none in you my dearest Lord.  Tim. 

Sweetest of Creatures, in whom all th' excellence  
Of heavenly womankind is seen unmixed;  
Nature has wrought thy mettle up without allay.   Mel. 

I have no value, but my love of you,  
And that I am sure has no allay, 'tis of  
So strong a temper, neither time nor death,  
Nor any change can break it—   Tim. 

Dear charming sweet, thy value is so great,  
No Kingdom upon Earth should buy thee from me:  
But I have still an enemy with you,  
That guards me from my happiness; a Vow  
Against the Law of Nature, against Love,  
The best of Nature, and the highest Law.   Mel. 
It will be but a week in force.  Tim. 

'Tis a whole age: in all approaching joys,  
The nearer they come to us, still the time  
Seems longer to us: But my dear Melissa,  
Why should we bind ourselves with vows and oaths?  
Alas, by Nature we are too much confined,  
Our Liberties so narrow, that we need not  
Find fetters for ourselves: No, we should seize  
On pleasure wheresoever we can find it,  
Lest at another time we miss it there.   Chlo. 
Madam, break your Vow, it was a rash one.  Mel. 

Thou foolish Wench, I cannot get my things  
In order till that time; dost think I will  
Be married like some vulgar Creature, which  
Snatches at the first offer, as if she  
Were desperate of having any other?   Tim. 
Is there no hope that you will break your vow?  Mel. 

If any thing, one word of yours would do't:  
But how can you be once secure, I'll keep  
A vow to you, that would not to myself?   Tim. 

Some dreadful accident may come Melissa  
To interrupt our joys; let us make sure  
O'th' present minute, for the rest perhaps  
May not be ours.   Mel. 

It is not fit it should, if I should break a vow;  
No, you shall never find a change in me,  
All the fixed stars shall sooner stray  
With an irregular motion, than I change:  
This may assure you of my love, if not  
Upon my knees I swear—  
Were I the Queen of all the Universe,  
And Timon were reduced to rags and misery,  
I would not change my love to him.   Tim. 

And here I vow,  
Should all the frame of Nature be dissolved,  
Should the firm Centre shake, should Earthquakes rage's  
With such a fury to disorder all  
The peaceful and agreeing Elements,  
Till they were huddled into their first Chaos,  
As long as I could be, I'd be the same,  
The same adorer of Melissa!   Mel. 
This is so great a blessing heaven can't add to it.  Tim. 

Thou art my heaven, Melissa, the last mark  
Of all my hopes and wishes, so I prise thee,  
That I could die for thee.   Enter a Servant of Timon's. Seru. 

My Lord, your dinner's ready, and your lordship's  
Guests wait your wished presence: the Lord  
Nicias is already there.   Tim. 
Let's hast to wait on him Melissa.  Mel. 
It is my duty to my Father.  [Exeunt. Enter Poet, Apemantus, servant's setting things in order for the Feast. Poet. 

His honour will soon be here, I have prepared the Maskers;  
They are all ready.   Apem. 
How now Poet? what piece of foppery hast thou to present to Timon?  Poet. 
Thou art a senseless snarling Stoic, and hast no taste of Poetry.  Apem. 

Thy Poetrie's insipid, none can taste it:  
Thou art a wordy foolish scribbler, who  
Writ'st nothing but high-sounding frothy stuff;  
Thou spread'st, and beatest out thy poor little sense,  
'Tis all leaf-gold, it has no weight in it.  
Thou lov'st impertinent description,  
And when thou hast a rapture, it is not  
The sacred rapture of a Poet, but  
Incoherent, extravagant, and unnatural,  
Like madman's thoughts, and this thou call'st Poetical.   Poet. 

You are judge! shall dull Philosophers judge  
Of us the nimble fancies, and quick spirits  
Of the Age?   Apem. 

The coxcombs of the Age:  
Are there such eminent fopperies as in the  
Poets of this time? their most unreasonable heads  
Are whimsical, and fantastic as fiddlers,  
They are the scorn and laughter of all witty men,  
The folly of you makes the Art contemptible,  
None of you have the judgement of a Gander.   Enter Aelius, Nicias, Phaeax, and the other Senators. Poet. 

You are a base snarling critic; writ your  
Self, do and you dare.   Apem. 

I confess 'tis a daring piece of valour, for a man  
Of sense to write to an Age that likes your spurious stuff.   Nici. 
What time of the day is't, Apemantus?  Apem. 
Time to be honest.  Aelius. 
That time serves always.  Apem. 

Then what excuse hast thou, that wouldst thus long  
Omit it?   Isid. 
You stay to be at the Lord Timon's feast.  Apem. 
Yes, to see Meat fill Knaves, and Wine heat Fools.  Cleon. 
Well, far thee well.  Apem. 
Thou art an Ass to bid me farewell.  Cleon. 
Why so?  Apem. 

Because I have not so little reason or honesty to  
Return thee one good wish for it.   Phaeax. 
Go hang thyself.  Apem. 

I'll do nothing at thy bidding, make thy requests to  
Thy friend, if there be such a wretch on earth.   Phaeax. 
Be gone, unpeaceable dog, or I will spurn thee from me.  Apem. 

Though I am none, I'll fly like a dog the heels of  
The Ass.   Nici. 
He's opposite to all humanity—  Aelius. 
Now we shall taste of Timon's bounty.  Phaeax. 
He hath a heart brimful of kindness and good will—  Isid. 

And pours it down on all his friends, as if Plutus  
The god of Wealth were but his Steward.   Phaeax. 

No Meed but he repays sev'nfold above  
Its self, no gift but breeds the giver such  
Return as does exceed his wishes.   Thrasil. 
He bears the noblest mind that ever governed man.  Phaeax. 

Long may he live with prosperous fortunes.  
But I fear it—   Aelius. 

I hear a whisper, as though he fails his Creditors,  
Even of their interest.   Phaeax. 
I fear it is too true— well 'tis pity: but he's a good Lord!  Enter Timon with Melissa, Chloe, Nicias, and a great train with him. 
Here he comes my Noble Lord.  Nici. 
Most worthy Timon!  Aelius. 
My most honoured Lord.  Tim. 

You overjoy me with your presence! is there  
On Earth a sight so splendid, as Tables well  
Filled with good and faithful friends, like you?  
Dear Melissa! be pleased to know my friends:  
Oh Apemantus! Thou'rt welcome.   Apem. 

No, thou shalt not make me welcome;  
I come to tell thee truth, and if thou hearest me not  
I'll lock thy heaven from thee hereafter: think  
On the ebb of your Estate, and flow of debts;  
How many prodigal bits do slaves and flatterers gorge?  
And now 'tis noble Timon, worthy Timon, royal Timon,  
And when the means is gone that buys this praise,  
The breath is gone, whereof the praise is made.   Tim. 
It is not so with my Estate.  Apem. 

None are so honest to tell thee of thy vanities,  
So the gods bless me.  
When all your Offices have been oppressed  
With riotous feeders, when every Vault has wept  
With drunken spilth of wine, when every room  
Has blazed with lights, and brayed with Minstrels,  
Or roaring singing drunkards; I have retired  
To my poor homely Cell, and set my eyes  
At flow for thee, because I find something in  
Thee that might be worthy— but as thou art I  
Hate and scorn thee.   Tim. 

Come, preach no more, had I no Estate, I  
Am rich in Friends, my Noble Friends here,  
The dearest loving Friends that ever man  
Was blessed with.   Nic. 

Oh might we have an happy opportunity to show how  
We love and honour you!   Aelius. 
That you would once but use our hearts.  Isand. 
We'd lay 'em out all in your service.  Phaeax. 

Yes, all ourselves, if you would put us to a  
Trial, than we were perfect.   Tim. 

I doubt it not, I know you'd serve me all;  
Shall I distrust my Friends? I have often wished  
Myself poorer that I might use you— We are  
Born to do good one to another: Friends,  
Unless we use 'em, are like sweet instruments hung  
Up in cases: But oh, what a precious comfort  
'Tis to have so many like Brothers, commanding  
One another's fortunes! Trust me, my joy brings water  
To my eyes.   Phaeax. 
Joy had the like conception in my eyes.  Apem. 
Ho, ho, ho— I laugh to think that it conceived a Bastard.  Tim. 
What dost thou laugh for?  Apem. 

To hear these smell-feasts lie and fawn so,  
Not only flattering thee, but thy Mutton and thy Partridge,  
These Flies, who at one cloud of winter-showers  
Would drop from off you.   Cleon. 
Silence, the Dog.  Phaeax. 
Let the snarling Cur be kicked out.  Apem. 
Of what vile earth, of what mean dirt a Lord is Kneaded!  Tim. 
The man I think is honest, and his humour hurts us not.  Apem. 
I would my reason would do thee good, Timon.  Mel. 
This is an odd snarling fellow; I like him.  Apem. 
If I could without lying, I'd say the same of thee.  Mel. 
Why? Prithee what dost thou think of me?  Tim. 
He'll snarl at thee.  Mel. 
No matter.  Apem. 

I think thou art a piece of white and red Earth,  
The Picture of Vanity drawn to th'life;  
I am thinking how handsome that Skull will  
Be when all the Flesh is off; that face thou art  
So proud of, is a poor vain, transitory thing,  
And shortly will be good for nothing.   Mel. 
Out on him, scurvy poor Fellow.  Tim. 

No more of this, be not so sullen; I'll be kind  
To thee and better thy Condition.   Apem. 

No, I'll have nothing; should I be bribed too,  
There would be none left to rail at thee, and then  
thou'dst sin the faster: Timon, thou givest so long,  
Thou'lt shortly give thyself away.   Tim. 
I'll hear no more: let him have a Table by Himself.  Apem. 
Let me have some Roots and Water, such as Nature intended for our Meat and Drink before Eating and Drinking grew an Art.  [The Meat is served up with Kettle Drums, and trumpet's. Tim. 

Sat Dear Melissa, this is your Feast:  
And all you see is yours.  
And all that you can wish for shall be so.  
Come, sit Lords, no Ceremony,  
That was devised at first to set a gloss  
On feigned deeds, and hollow-hearted welcomes,  
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown:  
True friendship needs 'em not: you're more welcome  
To my Fortunes, than my Fortunes are to me.   [They sit. 
Will you not have some Meat Apemantus?  Apem. 

I scorn thy Meat, 'twould choke me; for I should  
Ne'er flatter ye; Ye Gods, what a number of men  
Eat Timon! and yet 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 'em to't, and loves 'em for't:  
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men;  
Methinks they should invite them without knives,  
'Twere safer far. That fellow that sits next him,  
Now parts bread with him, pledges his breath  
In a divided Draught, may next day kill him;  
Such things have been. If I were a Huge Man  
I should be afraid to drink at meals,  
Left they should spy my Wind Pipes dangerous places.  
Great Men should drink with Harness on their Throats.   Tim. 
Now my Lords, let Melissa's health go round  Aelius. 
Let it flow this way—  [kettledrums and Trumpets sound. Apem. 

How this pomp shows to a little oil and Roots?  
These healths will make thee and thy State look ill.   Phaeax. 
Peace Villain.  Apem. 

Here's that which is too weak to be a Sinner;  
Here's honest Water ne'er left man i'th'mire,  
This and my Root will still keep down  
My saucy and presumptuous Flesh,  
That it shall never get the better of me—   

Apemantus's Grace.  
Immortal Gods I crave no Pelf,  
I pray for no man but myself,  
Grant I may never be 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 Gaoler with my freedom,  
Or my Friends if I should need 'em.  
Amen, Amen, and so fall to't,  
Great Men sin, and I eat Root.   
Much good may't do thee good Apemantus.  Nici. 

Our noble Lord Timon's health, let it go round,  
And Drums, and trumpet's sound.   [Kettle Drums, etc. Apem. 

What madness is the pomp, the noise, the splendour,  
The frantic Glory of this foolish life!  
We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,  
And vary a thousand antic ugly shapes  
Of Folly and of Madness, these fill up  
The scenes and empty spaces of our lives.  
Life's nothing but a dull repetition,  
A vain fantastic dream, and there's an end on't.   Tim. 

Now my good Lords and Friends, I speak to you,  
You that are of the Council of four hundred,  
In the behalf of a dear Friend of mine.   Nici. 

One word of yours must govern all the Council,  
And any thing in Athens.   Tim. 

I Speak chief  
To you my Lord and Father; and to Phaeax.   Phaeax. 
My good Lord command me to my death and I'll obey.  Tim. 

I have received notice from Alcibiades.,  
(Whose Enemies you have been, and whose Friends  
I beg you will be now) that he in private  
Will venture into Athens;  
Not openly because he will not trust  
The Insolence of the tumultuous Rabble;  
If he solicits his recallment with you,  
There lives not on this earth a man that has  
Deserved so well from the Nobility;  
He has preserved even Athens in his Exile,  
By Tissaphernes power he has kept us from  
The Lacedaemonian Rage, and other Foes  
That might have laid this City low in ashes.  
How many famous battles has he won?  
But which is more, by his advice and power,  
Even in his absence he has wrested  
The Government from the insulting Vulgar;  
Whose wisdom's Blindness, and whose Power is Madness:  
And placed it in your noble Hands; methinks  
You in return should take off his hard entence  
Of Banishment, and render back all his Estate.   Phaeax. 

Is there a thing on Earth you would command us  
That we would disobey?   Nici. 
I am absolutely yours in all Commands.  Aelius. 
How proud am I that I can serve Lord Timon!  Apem. 

Thinkest thou thyself thy country's friend now Timon?  
His foul Riot and his inordinate Lust,  
His wavering Passions, and his headlong Will,  
His selfish Principles, his contempt of others,  
His Mockery, his various Sports, his Wantonness,  
The Rage and Madness of his Luxury  
Will make the Athenians hearts ache, as thy own  
Will soon make thine.   Isod. 
Hang him, we never mind him.  Isand. 
When will he speak well of any man?  Apem. 

When I can find a man that's better than  
A beast, I will fall down and worship him.   Tim. 

Thou art an Athenian, and I bear with thee.  
Is the Masque ready?   Poet. 
'Tis, my noble Lord.  Apem. 

What odd and childish folly Slaves find out  
To please and court all thy distempered Appetites!  
They spend their flatteries to devour those men  
Upon whose Age they'll void it up again  
With poisonous spite and envy.  
Who lives that's not depraved, or else depraves?  
Who die that bear not some spurns to their Graves  
Of their friends giving? I should fear that those  
Who now are going to dance before me,  
Should one day stamp on me: it has been done.   Tim. 

Nay, if you rail at all Society,  
I'll hear no more— be gone.   Apem. 

Thou may'st be sure I will not stay to see  
Thy folly any longer, far thee well; remember  
Thou wouldst not hear me, thou wilt curse thyself for't.   Tim. 
I do not think so— far thee well.  [Exit Apemantus. Enter Servant. Seru. 
My Lord, there are some Ladies masqued desire admittance.  Tim. 

Have not my doors been always opento  
Every Athenian? They do me honour,  
Wait on 'em in, were I not bound to do  
My duty here, I would.   Chloe. 

I have not had the opportunity  
To deliver this till now, it is a Letter  
From Alcibiades.   Mel. 

Dear Alcibiades, Oh how shall I love him,  
When he's restored to his Estate and Country!  
He will be richer far than Timon is,  
And I shall choose him first of any man;  
How lucky 'tis I should put off my Wedding.   Enter Evandra with Ladies masqued. Tim. 

Ladies, you do my house and me great honour;  
I should be glad you would unmask, that I  
Might see to whom I own the Obligation.   1. Lad. 

We ask your pardon, we are stolen out upon  
Curiosity, and dare not own it.   Tim. 
Your pleasure Ladies, shall be mine.  Evan. 

This is the fine gay thing so much admired,  
That's born to rob me of my happiness,  
And of my life; her face is not her own,  
Nor is her love, nor speech, nor motion so:  
Her smiles, her amorous looks, she puts on all,  
There's nothing natural: She always acts  
And never shows herself; How blind is Love  
That cannot see this Vanity!   [Masque gins. Enter shepherd's and Nymphs. A Symphony of Pipes imitating the chirping of Birds. Nymph. 

Hark how the Songsters of the Grove  
Sing Anthems to the God of Love.  
Hark how each amorous winged pair,  
With love's great praises fill the Air.   Chorus. 

On every side the charming sound  
Does from the hollow Woods rebound.   
Retornella  Nymph. 

Love in their little veins inspires  
Their cheerful Notes, their soft Desires:  
While Heat makes Buds or Blossoms spring,  
These pretty couples love and sing.   Chorus with Flutes. 

But Winter puts out their desire,  
And half the year they want love's fire.   
Retornella.  Full Chorus. 

But Ah how much are our delights more dear,  
For only Humane Kind love all the year.   Enter the Maenades and Aegipanes. 1 Bach. 

Hence with your trifling deity  
A greater we adore,  
Bacchus, who always keeps us free  
From that blind childish power.   2 Bach. 

Love makes you languish and look pale,  
And sneak, and sigh, and whine;  
But over us no griefs prevail,  
While we have lusty Wine.   Chorns with Hout-boys 

Then hang the dull Wretch who has care in his soul,  
Whom Love, or whom Tyrants, or Laws can control,  
If within his right hand he can have a full Bowl.   Nymph. 

Go drivel and snore with your fat God of Wine,  
Your swelled faces with Pimples adorning,  
Soak your Brains over night and your senses resign,  
And forget all you did the next Morning.   Nymph. 

With dull aching Noddles live on in a mist,  
And never discover true Joy:  
Would Love tempt with Beauty, you could not resist,  
The Empire he slights, he'd destroy.   1 Bach. 

Better our heads, than hearts should ache,  
His childish Empire we despise;  
Good Wine of him a Slave can make,  
And force a Lover to be wise.  
Better, etc.   2 Bach. 

Wine sweetens all the cares of Peace,  
And takes the terror off from War.  
To love's affliction it gives ease,  
And to its Joy does best prepare.  
It sweetens, etc.   Nymph. 

'Tis Love that makes great monarches fight,  
The end of Wealth and Power is Love;  
It makes the youthful Poets write,  
And does the Old to Youth improve.   Retornella of Hout-boys. Bach. 

'Tis Wine that Revels in their Veins,  
Makes Cowards valiant, Fools grow wise,  
Provokes low Pens to lofty strains,  
And makes the young love's Chains despise.   Retornella. Nymphs and Shepherds. 
Love rules the World.  Maenades and Aegipanes. 
'Tis Wine, 'tis Wine.  Nymphs and Shepherds. 
'Tis Love, 'tis Love.  Maenades and Aegipanes. 
'Tis Wine, 'tis Wine.  Enter Bacchus and Cupid. Bacchus. 

Hold, Hold, our Forces are combined,  
And we together rule Mankind.   General Chorus. 

Then we with our Pipes, and our Voices will join  
To sound the loud praises of Love and good Wine.  
Wine gives vigour to Love, Love makes Wine go down.  
And by Love and good Drinking, all the World is our own.   Tim. 

'Tis well designed, and well performed, and I'll  
Reward you well: let us retire into my next  
Apartment, where I've devised new pleasures for you,  
And where I will distribute some small Presents,  
To testify my Love and Gratitude.   Phaeax. 
A noble Lord!  AElius. 
Bounty itself.  Tim. 

Thus my Melissa will we always spend  
Our time in Pleasures; but who e'er enjoys  
Thee, has all this life affords summed up in that.   Evan. 

These words did once belong to me, but Oh!  
My stubborn heart, wilt thou not break at this?   Tim. 

Ladies I hope you'll honour me with you presence,  
And accept of a Collation.   1 Lady. 
We ask your pardon, and must leave you.  Tim. 
Demetrius, wait on them.  Evan. 
My Lord, I'd speak with you alone.  Tim 

Be pleased Madam, to retire with your father,  
I'll wait on you instantly.   [to Melissa. [Exeunt all but Timon and Evandra. 
Who are you Madam?  Evan. 
One who is come to take her last leave of you.  Tim. 
Evandra! What confusion am I in!  Evan. 

I am sorry in the midst of all your joys  
I should disturb you thus: I had a mind  
To see you once before I died; I ne'er  
Shall trouble you again.   Tim. 
Let me not hear these kill words.  Evan. 

They'll be my last, and therefore give'em room:  
I am hastening to my death, than you'll be happy,  
I ne'er shall interrupt your joys again,  
Unless the Memory of me should make  
You drop some tears upon my dust; I know  
Your noble Nature will remember that  
Evandra was, and once was dear to you,  
And loved you so, that she could die to make  
You happy.   Tim. 

Ah dear Evandra! that would make  
Me wretched far below all misery;  
I'd rather kill myself than hear that news:  
I call the gods to witness, there's not one  
On Earth I more esteem.   Evan. 

Esteem! alas!  
It is too weak a Cordial to preserve  
My fading life, I see your passion's grown  
Too headstrong for you. Oh my dearest Timon!  
I, while I have any breath, must call you so;  
Had you once struggled for my sake,  
And striven to oppose the raging fury of  
Your fatal Love, I should have died contented.  
But Oh! false to yourself, to all my hopes,  
And me; you sucked the subtle poison in  
So greedily, you would not stay to taste it.   Tim. 

She moves me strongly; I have found from her  
The truest and the tenderest Love that e'er  
Woman yet bore to Man.   Evan. 

I find you're gone too far in the disease  
T' admit a Cure: I will persuade no longer;  
Death is my remedy, and I'll embrace it.   Tim. 

Oh talk not of Death: I'll love you still:  
I can love two at once, trust me I can.   Evan. 

No, Timon, I will have you whole, or nothing:  
I love you so, I cannot live to see  
That dear, that most adored person in another's arms:  
My Love's too nice, 'twill not be fed with crumbs,  
And broken meat, that falls from your Melissa.  
No dear false Man, you soon shall be at rest,  
I came but to receive a parting Kiss:  
You'll not deny me that?   Tim. 
I will not part with you; we'll be friends for ever.  Evan. 

No, no, it cannot be, forgive this trouble,  
Since 'tis the last, I'll never see you more;  
And may Melissa ever love you as  
The Excellence of your form deserves; and may  
She please you longer than th' unfortunate  
Evandra could.   Tim. 

Gods! Why should I not love this Woman best?  
She has deserved beyond all measure from me;  
She's beautiful, and good as Angels are; Aside.  
But I have had her Love already.  
Oh most accursed Charm, that thus perverts me!   To Her. 
YE have made a Woman of me.  Evan. 

I'll have but one last look of that  
Bewitching Face that ruined me.  
Oh, I could devour it with my eyes: but I'll  
Remove it from thee. I ne'er  
Shall die contented while I look on thee.   Tim. 
Be patiented till I give thee satisfaction.  Evand. 

No, dearest Enemy, I'll remove the guilt  
From thee, and thus I'll place it on myself.   [Offers to stab herself. Tim. 

Hold, dear Evandra, if thou lov'st my life  
Preserve thy own; for here I swear, that minute  
When thou attemptst thy life, I will lose mine.  
Where's Diphilus?   Enter Diphilus. Diph. 
Here my Lord.  Tim. 

Wait on Evandra home, and take a care  
She attempts not any mischief on herself:  
she's agitated by a dangerous passion.  
My dear! let Diphilus wait on thee home;  
As soon as ever my Company is gone,  
I'll see thee, and convince thee that I love thee.   Evand. 
No, no: I cannot hope— farewel for ever.  [Ex. Diph. and Evand. Tim. 

I must resolve on something for her comfort;  
For the Empire of the Earth I would not lose her;  
There is not one of all her Sex exceeds her  
In Love, or Beauty—  
O miserable state of humane life!  
We slight all the enjoyments which we have;  
And those things only value which we have not:  
Where is Demetrius?   Dem. 
My Lord!  Tim. 
Where is the Casket which I spoke for?  Dem. 

It is here my Lord: I beg your Lordship hear me speak.  
I have business that concerns you nearly—   Tim. 

Some other time; of late thou dost perplex me  
Each moment with the hateful name of business,  
That mortal Foe to pleasure, I'll not hear it.   [Ex. Timon. Dem. 

So! all now is at an end!  
He does command us to provide great gifts,  
And all out of an empty Coffer.  
His promises fly so beyond his 'state,  
That what he speaks is all in Debt; He owes  
For every word; His Land is all engaged,  
His money gone; would I were gently turned  
Out of my Office; lest he should borrow all  
I have gotten in his service. Well!   

Happier is he that has no friend to feed,  
Than such who do even Enemies exceed.   [Ex. Demet.  

ACT III.  Enter Timon and Demetrius. Tim. 
Demetrius'!  

How comes it that I have been thus encountered  
With clamorous demands of broken Bonds,  
And the unjust detention of money long since due?  
I knew I was in debt, but did not think  
I had gone so far; wherefore before this time  
Did you not lay my state fully before me?   Dem. 

You would not hear me.  
At many times I brought in my accounts,  
Laid 'em before you— you would throw 'em off,  
And say, you found 'em in my Honesty.  
I have beyond good manners, prayed you often  
To hold your hand more close and was rebuked for't.   Tim. 
You should have pressed it further.  Dem. 

What e'er I durst I did, it was my interest,  
For if my Lord be poor, what then must I be?  
Call me before the exactest Auditors,  
And let my life lie on the proof:  
Oh my good Lord, the world is but a world,  
If it were yours to give it in a breath,  
How quickly were it gone?   Tim. 
Have you no money in the Treasury?  Dem. 
Not enough to supply the riot of two meals.  Tim. 
Let all my Land be sold.  Dem. 

'Tis all engaged;  
And some already's forfeited and gone,  
That which remains will scarce pay present deuce;  
The future comes apace.   Tim. 
To Lacedaemon did my Land extend.  Dem. 

How many times have I retired and wept,  
To think what it would come to.   Tim. 
Prithee! no more, I know thou'rt honest.  Dem. 

It grieves me to consider amongst what Parasites  
And trencher Friends your wealth has been divided.  
I cannot but weep at the sad reflection,  
When every word of theirs was greedily  
Attended to, as if they'd been pronounced  
From Oracles. I never could be heard.   Tim. 

Come; preach no more, thou soon shall find that I  
Have not misplaced my Bounty, why dost weep?  
I am rich in friends and can use all their wealth  
Freely as I can bid thee speak.   Dem. 
I doubt it.  Tim. 

You soon shall see how you mistake my fortune.  
Now I shall try my friends. Who waits there?   Enter three Servants. 1 Ser. 
My Lord!  Tim. 

Go you to Phaeax and to Cleon, you to Isander  
And Aelius, you to Isodore and Thrasillus.  
Commend me to their loves, and let them know,  
I'm proud that my occasions make me use 'em  
For a supply of money. Let the request  
Be fifty Talents from each man.   1 seru. 
We will, my Lord.  Tim. 

Thou, Demetrius, shalt go to the Senate, from whom  
Even to the States best health I have deserved  
This hearing. Petition them to send me 500 Talents.   Dem. 

I must obey. The next room's full of  
Importunate slaves and hungry Creditors, go not to 'em.   [Ex. Dem. Tim. 

What! must my doors b' opposed against my passage?  
Have I been ever free, and those been open  
For all Athenians to go in and out  
At their own pleasure? My Porter at my Gate  
ne'er kept man out, but smiled and did invite  
All that past by it, in, and must he be  
My Gaoler, and my House my Prison! no,  
I'll not despair: my friends will never fail me.   [Exit. Scene is the Porch or Cloister of the Stoics. Apemantus speaking to the people and several Senators. Apem. 

Amongst all the loathsome and base diseases of  
Corrupted Nature, Pride is most contagious.  
Behold the poorest miserable wretch  
Which the Sun shines on; in the midst of all  
Diseases, rags, want, infamy and slavery,  
The Fool will find out something to be proud of.   Aelius. 
This is all railing.  Apem. 

When you deserve my precepts, you shall have 'em,  
Mean while, if I'll be honest, I must rail at you.   Cleon. 
Let's walk, hang him, hear him not rail.  Phaeax. 

Our Government is too remiss in suffering the  
Licence of Philosophers, Orators, and Poets.   Apem. 

Show me a mighty Lordling, who's puffed up,  
And swells with the opinion of his greatness;  
He's an Ass. For why does he respect himself so,  
But to make others do it? wretched Ass!  
By the same means he seeks respect, he loses it.  
Mean thing! does he not play the fool, and eat,  
And drink, and void his excrements and stink,  
Like other men, and die and rot so too?  
What then should it be proud of? 'Tis a Lord;  
And that's a word some other men cannot  
Prefix before their names: what then? a word  
That it was born to, and then it could not help it.  
Or if made a Lord, perhaps it was [Enter Timon's 3 Servants.  
By blindness or partiality i'th' Government.  
If for desert, he loses it in Pride;  
Who ever's proud of his good deeds, performs  
Them for himself; himself should then reward 'em.  
Oh but perhaps he's rich, 'Tis a million to one  
There was villainy in the getting of that dirt,  
And he has the Nobility to have knaves for his Ancestors.   Phaeax. 

Hang thee thou snarling Rascal, the Government's  
To blame in suffering thee to rail so long,   Apem. 

The Government's to blame in suffering the things  
I rail at.  
In suffering Judges without Beards, or Law, Secretaries that  
Can't write;  
Generals that durst not fight, Ambassadors that can't speak sense;  
Blockheads to be great Ministers, and Lord it over witty men;  
Suffering great men to sell their Country for filthy bribes,  
Old limping Senators to sell their Souls  
For vile extortion: Matrons to turn incontinent;  
And Magistrates to pimp for their own Daughters.  
Ruin of Orphans, treachery, murder, rapes,  
Incests, adulteries and unnatural sins,  
Fill all your dwellings, here's the shame of Government,  
And not my railing. Men of hardened foreheads,  
And seared hearts. 'Tis a weak and infirm Government,  
That is so froward it cannot bear men's words.   Aelius. 

Well, babbling Philosophy, call Rascal, we shall make  
You tremble one day.   Apem. 

Never.  
Sordid great man! it is not in your power,  
I fear not man no more than I can love him.  
'Twere better for us that wild beasts posseft  
The Empire of the Earth, they'd use men better,  
Than they do one another. They'd ne'er prey  
On man but for necessity of Nature.  
Man undoes man in wantonness and sport,  
Bruits are much honester than he; my dog  
When he fawns on me is no Courtier,  
He is in earnest; but a man shall smile,  
And wish my throat cut.   Cleon. 
Money of me, sayest thou?  1 seru. 

Yes! he says he's proud he has occasion to make  
Use of you.   Cleon. 

Is't come to that? [Aside.  
Unfortunate man! I have not half a talon by me!  
But here are other Lords can do it.  
I honour him so, that if he will, I'll sell my Land for him;  
But prithee excuse me to him, I am in great haste  
At this time.   [Ex. Cleon. 1 seru. 

'Tis as I thought. How monstrous and deformed a  
Thing is base ingratitude! Here's Phaeax. My Lord?   Phaeax. 

Oh! one of Lord Timon's men? a gift I warrant you.  
Why this hits right. I dreamt of a silver Bason and  
Ewer to night. How does that honourable, complete,  
Freehearted Gentleman, thy very bountiful good Lord?   1 seru. 
Well in his health, my Lord.  Phaeax. 

I am hearty glad, what hast thou under thy  
Cloak, honest youth?   1 seru. 

An empty Box which by my Lords Command  
I come to entreat your Honour to supply with fifty Talents  
He has instant need of. He bids me say he does not  
Doubt your friendship.   Phaeax. 

Hum! not doubt it! alas, good Lord!  
He's a noble Gentleman! had he not kept so good a House,  
'Twould have been better: I've often dined with him,  
And told him of it, and come again to Supper for  
That purpose to have him spend less, but 'twould not do:  
I am sorry for't: but good Lad thou art hopeful and of  
Good parts.   1 seru. 
Your Lordship speaks your pleasure.  Phaeax. 

A prompt spirit, give thee thy due. Thou knowst  
What's reason. And eanst use thy time well, if the time use  
Thee well— 'Tis not time to lend money. Thou art wise,  
Here's money for thee— good Lad wink at me and say  
Thou saw'st me not.   1 seru. 

Is't possible the World should differ so,  
And we alive that lived in't?   Apem. 

What art thou sent to invite those Knaves again  
To feast with thy luxurious Lord?   1 seru. 

No: I came to borrow fifty Talents for him,  
And this Lord has given me this to say, I did not see him.   Apem. 

Is't come to that already?  
Base slavish Phaeax, thou of the Nobility?  
Let molten Coin be thy damnation.   Phaeax. 
Peace Dog.  Apem. 

Thou worse! thou trencher-fly, thou flatterer,  
Thou hast Timon's meat still in thy gluttonous paunch,  
And dost deny him money. Why should it thrive,  
And turn to nutriment when thou art poison?   2 seru. 
My noble Lord.  Isand. 
Oh how does thy brave Lord, my noblest friend?  2 seru. 
May it please your honour, he has sent—  Isan. 

Ha— what has he sent? I am so much obliged  
To him, he's ever sending. How shall I thank him? hah,  
What has he sent?   2 seru. 

He has sent me to tell you he has occasion  
To use your friendship, he has instant need  
Of fifty Talents—   Isan. 

Is that the business? hah!  
I know his honour is but merry with me,  
He cannot want as many hundreds.   2 seru. 
Yes, he wants fifty, but is assured of your honour's Friendship.  Isan. 
Thou art not sure in earnest?  2 seru. 
Upon my life I am.  Isan. 

What an unfortunate Wretch am I? to disfurnish  
Myself upon so good a time,  
When I might have shown how much I love  
And honour him: This is the greatest affliction  
ere fell upon me: the Gods can witness for me  
I was just sending to my Lord myself:  
I have no power to serve him, my heart bleeds for't.  
I hope his honour will conceive the best;  
Beast that I am, that the first good occasion  
Should not be in my power to use; I beg  
A thousand pardons.— Tell him so—   Apem. 

Thou art an excellent Summer friend!  
How often hast thou dipped i'th' dish with him?  
He has been a Father to thee with his purse,  
Supported thyestate; when e'er thou drinkest,  
His silver kisses thy base Lips, thou rid'st upon  
His Horses, liest on his Beds.   Isan. 
Peace, or I'll knock thy brains out.  [Ex. Isan. 2 seru. 
My Lord, Thrasillus—  Thra. 

He's comes to borrow, I must shun him.  
I hope your Lord is well.   2 seru. 
Yes, my Lord, and has sent me—  Thra. 

To invite me to Dinner. I am in great haste—  
But I'll wait on him if I can possible.   [Ex. Thra. Apem. 

Good Fool, go home. Dost think to find a grateful  
Man in Athens?   3 seru. 

If my Lord's occasions did not press him very much  
I would not urge it.   Aelius. 
Why would he send to me? I am poor. There's Phaeax, Cleon, Isodore, Thrasillus, and Isander, and many Men that own their fortunes to him.  3 serve 
They have been touched and found base mettle.  Aelius. 

Have they denied him; and must you come to me?  
Must I be his last refuge? 'tis a great slight,  
Must I be the last sought to? he might have  
Considered who I am.   3 seru. 
I see he did not know you.  Aelius. 

I was the first that e'er received gift from him,  
And I will keep it for his honour's sake,  
But at present I cannot possibly supply him:  
Besides, my Father made me swear upon  
His Death, I never should lend money.  
I've kept the Oath e'er since. far thee well.   [Ex. Aelius. 3 seru. 
They all fly us!  Apem. 

The barbarous Herd of mankind eat  
One in affliction, and turn him out as  
Dear do one that's hunted, go, go home  
To thy fond Lord, and bid him Curse himself,  
That would not hear me: bid him live on root  
And water, and know himself; he had better  
Have shunned Mankind than be deserted by them.   [Ex. Omnes. Enter Melissa and Chloe. Mell. 

Who could have thought Timon so lost i'th' world?  
With what amazement will the news of this  
So sudden alteration be received by all Athenians?   Chloe. 
Is it for certain true?  Mel. 

Certain as death or fate! my father has assured me  
Of it, that he is a Bankrupt, his Credit gone, and all  
His ravenous Creditors with open Jaws will swallow him.  
'Tis well I am informed, I'll stand upon my guard.   Enter Page. Page. 
Madam, a Gentleman below desires admittance.  Mel. 

See Chloe, if it be Lord Timon, or any one from him,  
Say I am not well. I will not be seen: be sure I  
Be not.   Chlo. 
I warrant you.  [Ex. Chloe. Mel. 

Seen by a Bankrupt! no, base poverty  
Shall never enter here. Oh, were my Alcibiades  
Recalled, he would adore me still, and would be  
Rich too.   Enter Alcibiades in disguise, and Chloe. Chloe. 
It is a Gentleman in disguise, I know him not.  Alcib. 
But my Melissa does.  [Pulls off his Disguise. Mel. 

My Alcibiades! my Hero!  
The Gods have harkened to my vows for thee,  
And have crowned all my wishes. Thou'rt more welcome  
To me than the return of the sun's heat  
Is to the frozen Region of the North,  
That's covered half the year with Snow and Darkness.   Alcib. 

My Joy, my life, my blood, my soul, my liberty,  
And all that's precious in the earth, I have  
Within my arms: This treasure far outweighs  
The joys of Conquest, or deliverance  
From banishment or slavery.   Mel. 

How proud am I of all thy victories!  
'Twas thou that conquered, but I triumphed for thee,  
All day I sighed and wished, and prayed for thee,  
And in the night thou entertain'dst my sleeps,  
And whensoe'er I dreamt thou wert in danger,  
I cried out, my Alcibiades, and in my dreams  
I was valiant, and methought I fought for thee.   Alcib. 

Oh my Divine Melissa! the Cordial of thy love  
Is of so strong a spirit, 'twill overcome me,  
One kiss and take my soul; another and  
'Twill sally out; Oh, I could fix whole ages on  
Thy tender lip; and pity all the Fools  
That keep a senseless pother in the world for power,  
And pomp, and noise, and lose substantial bliss.   Mel. 

There is no bliss but love; and but for that  
The world would fall in pieces! Oh, with what a grief  
Have I sustained thy absence! had not my Father  
Prevented my escape, I had come to thee.   Alcib. 

'Twas well for Athens safety that thou didst not;  
I had neglected all my Conquests which  
Preserved this base ungrateful town; for I  
In thee should have all that I fought for; Thou  
Wouldst have been life, liberty, Country, and Estate to me.   Mel. 

I have the end of all my hopes and wishes,  
If the ungrateful Senate will let me keep thee.   Alcib. 

'Twas I that made them what they are, in hopes  
They soon would call me home to thee.  
It was the thought of that which fired my Soul,  
At every stroke the memory of Melissa  
Gave vigour to my arm, and made me conquer.   Mel. 

Oh, let ambition never more disturb  
Thy noble mind, let love in peace possess it.  
Let not the noise of Drums and Trumpets clangor,  
Clashing of arms, and neighing Steeds, and groans  
Of bleeding men entice thee from me.   Alcib. 

The Senate shall not dare remove me from thee.  
Should they once offer it, I've an Army will  
Toss their usurious bags about their ears,  
Rifle their Houses, deflower their Wives and Daughters,  
And dash their brains out of their doting heads.  
But dear Melissa, since our hearts so long  
Have been united, let's not stay for friends,  
For ceremony, but come, complete our joys;  
True love's above senseless formalities.   Mel. 

If any thing from you could anger me,  
This would; but know, none shall invade my virtue  
Without my life: but on my knees I vow  
No other man, though crowned the Emperor  
Of all the World, should ever have my love,  
And though thy Country basely should desert thee,  
I would continue firm.   Alcib. 

And here  
I swear, that could I conquer all the Universe,  
I'd lay the Crowns and sceptres at thy feet  
For thee to tread on. By thyself I swear,  
An Oath more sacred far to me, than all  
Mock Deities which knavish Priests invent,  
Are to the poor deluded Rabble.   Chloe. 
Madam! Your Father is come in.  Mel. 

Let us retire: my Father has not yet  
Forgotten his enmity, the breaking of the  
Peace with the Lacedæmonians, and his foil  
Which he thinks you caused in Sicily,  
he'll not forgive.   Alcib. 

Had he injured me beyond all sufferance,  
I would have forgiven him for begetting thee.   [Exeunt. Enter Timon and Servant. Tim. 

Is't possible? deserted thus? what large professions  
Did all these make but yesterday? did they all refuse to lend,  
Say you?   1 seru. 

The rumour of your borrowing was soon  
Dispersed, and then at sight of one of us  
They would stop, start, turn short, pass by, or seem  
To overlook us, and avoided us,  
As if we had been their mortal Enemies;  
And who suspected not when they were moved,  
Came off with base excuses.   Tim. 

Ye Gods! what will become of Timon? I'll go to 'em  
Myself, they will not have the face to use me so.   Enter Demetrius. 
Oh Demetrius! what news bring'st thou from the Senate?  Dem. 
I am returned no richer than I went.  Tim. 
Just Gods! it cannot be.  Dem. 

They answer in a joint and corporate voice,  
That now they are at ebb, want Treasure, cannot  
Do what they would, are sorry; you are Honourable;  
But yet they could have wished; they know not,  
Something has been amiss; a noble nature  
May catch a wrench; would all were well; 'tis pity;  
And so intending other serious matters,  
After distateful looks, and these hard fractions,  
With certain half caps and cold careless nods,  
They froze me into silence.   Tim. 

The Gods reward their villainy, Old men  
Have their ingratitude natural to 'em;  
Their blood is caked and cold, it seldom flows,  
'Tis want of kindly warmth which makes 'em cruel,  
And Nature as it grows again towards earth,  
Is fashioned for the Journey, dull and heavy.  
Heaven keep my Wits! or is't a blessing to be mad?  
Demetrius' follow me; I'll try 'em all myself.   Dem. 

The Senate is assembling again,  
You'll find 'em in the Senate House.   [Exeunt. Enter many Creditors with Bills and Papers, Re-enter Demetrius. Dem. 

How now, what makes this swarm of Rascals here?  
Each looking big, and with the visage of demand.   1 Cred. 
We wait for certain sums of money due.  Dem. 

If money were as certain as your waiting,  
Why then proffered you not your Bills and Bonds  
When your false Masters eat of my Lord's meat?  
Then they would smile and fawn upon him,  
And swallow the interest down their greedy throats.   Enter Timon and servant's. Tim. 
If Melissa be at home, tell her I'll wait on her suddenly.  1 Cred. 
Now, let's put in; my Lord, my Bill.  2 Cred. 
Here's mine.  3 Cred. 
And mine.  4 Cred. 
My Master's.  Tim. 

Hold, hold, my wits. Knock me down;  
Cleave me to the waste. What would you have, you harpies?   1 Cred. 
We ask our due.  Tim. 
Cut my heart in pieces and divide it.  4 Cred. 
My Master's is thirty Talents.  Tim. 
Tell it out of my blood.  2 Cred. 
Five thousand Crowns is mine.  Tim. 

Five thousand drops pays that.  
What yours, and yours?   3 Cred. 
My Lord.  1 Cred. 
My Lord.  Tim. 

Here, take me, pull me in pieces, will you?  
The gods consume, confound, and rot you all.   1 Cred. 
What a Devil, is he mad?  2 Cred. 
Mercy on us, let us be gone.  3 Cred. 
Let's go, he'll murder some of us.  Tim. 
They have even taken my breath from me. Slaves, Creditors, Dogs, preserve my wits, you Gods.  Dem. 
My Lord, be patiented; passion mends it not.  [Lampridius crosses the stage and shuns Timon. Tim. 

See Lampridius, whom I redeemed out of Prison.  
His Father dead since, and he rich. Now the Villain  
Shuns me.   Enter Phaeax. 
Oh my good Friend Phaeax.  Phaeax. 

Oh my Lord— I am glad to see your Lordship.  
I have a sudden occasion calls me hence,  
I'll wait on you instantly.   [Ex. Phaeax. Tim. 
I could not have believed this.  Enter Cleon. 
My Lord.  Cleon. 

Oh my good Lord, I am going to see  
If I can serve your Lordship in the Command  
I received from you by your Servant.   [Ex. Cleon. Tim. 

Oh black Ingratitude! that Villain has  
A Jewel at this moment on, which I presented him,  
Cost me three thousand Crowns.   Dem. 
You'll find 'em all like these.  Tim. 

There are not many sure so bad.  
How have I loved these men, and shown 'em kindness,  
As if they had been my Brothers, or my Sons!   [Enter Diphilus, seeing Timon, muffles his face and turns away. 

Look, is not that my Servant Diphilus, whom I married to  
The old Man's Daughter, and gave him an estate too;  
And now he hides himself, and steals from me?  
How much is a Dog more generous than a man;  
Oblige him once, he'll keep you Company,  
Even in your utmost want and misery.   Enter Aelius. 

Who's that? Aelius? my Lord— Aelius.  
Demetrius, go let him know Timon would speak  
With him— [Dem. goes to him, he turns back.  
Do you not know me Aelius?   Aelius. 
Not know my good Lord Timon!  Tim. 
Think you I have the Plague?  Aelius. 
No, my Lord.  Tim. 
Why do you shun me then?  Aelius. 
I eat you? I'd serve your Lordship with my life.  Tim. 

I ll not believe, he who would refuse me money,  
Would venture his life for me.   Aelius. 

I am very unfortunate not to have it in my Power  
To supply you; but I am going to the Forum, to a debtor,  
If I receive any, your Lordship shall command it.   [Ex. Aelius. Tim. 

Had I so lately all the Caps and Knees of th' Athenians,  
And is't come to this? Brains hold a little.   Enter Thrasillus. Thras. 
Who's there? Timon?  [runs back. Tim. 
There's another Villain.  Enter Isander. 
How is't Isander?  Isand. 
Oh heaven! Timon!  Tim. 

What, did I fright you? am I become so dreadful  
An Object? is poverty contagious?   Isand. 

Your Lordship ever shall be dear to me.  
It makes me weep to think I could not serve you  
When you sent your Servant. I am expected at the Senate.  
I humbly ask your pardon; I'll sell all I have  
But I'll supply you soon.   [Ex. Isander. Tim. 

Smooth tongue, dissembling, weeping knave, farewell.  
And farewel all Mankind! It shall be so— Demetrius?  
Go to all these fellows. Tell 'em I'm supplied, I have no  
Need of 'em. Set out my condition to be as good  
As formerly it has been. That this was but a trial,  
And invite 'em all to Dinner.   Dem. 
My Lord, there's nothing for 'em.  Tim. 
I have taken order about that.  Dem. 
What can this mean?  [Ex. Demetrius. Tim. 

I have one reserve can never fail me,  
And while Melissa's kind I can't be miserable;  
She has a vast fortune in her own disposal.  
The Sun will sooner leave his course than she  
Desert me.   Enter first Servant. 
Is Melissa at home?  1 seru. 
She is, my Lord; but will not see you.  Tim. 

What does the Rascal say? Damned Villain  
To belly her so?   [Strikes him. 1 seru. 

By heaven 'tis truth. She says she will not see you.  
Her woman told me first so. And when I would not  
Believe her, she came and told me so herself;  
That she had no business with you; desired you would  
Not trouble her; she had affairs of consequence; etc.   Tim. 

Now Timon thou art fallen indeed; fallen from all thy  
Hopes of happiness. Earth, open and swallow the  
Most miserable wretch that thou didst ever bear.   Enter Melissa. 1 seru. 
My Lord, Melissa's! passing by.  Tim. 
Oh Dear Melissa!  Mel. 
Is he here? what luck is this?  Tim. 

Will you not look on me? not see your Timon?  
And did not you send me word so?   Enter Evandra. Mel. 

I was very busy, and am so now; I must obey my  
Father; I am going to him.   Tim. 

Was it not, Melissa, said; If Timon were reduced  
To rags and misery, and she were Queen of all the Universe,  
She would not change her love?   Mel. 

We can't command our wills;  
Our fate must be obeyed.   [Ex. Mel. Tim. 

Some Mountain cover me, and let my name,  
My odious name be never heard of more.  
O straggling Senses whither are you going?  
Farewell, and may we never meet again.  
Evandra! how does the sight of her perplex me!  
I've been ungrateful to her, why should I  
Blame Villains who are so to me?   Evan. 

Oh Timon! I have heard and felt all thy afflictions;  
I thought I never should have seen thee more;  
Nor ever would, hadst thou continued prosperous.  
Let false Melissa basely fly from thee,  
Evandra is not made of that course stuff.   Tim. 
Oh turn thy eyes from an ungrateful man!  Evan. 

No, since I first beheld my adored Timon,  
They have been fixed upon thee present, and when absent  
I've each moment viewed thee in my mind,  
And shall they now remove?   Tim. 

Wilt thou not fly a wretched Caitif? who  
Has such a load of misery beyond  
The strength of humane nature to support?   Evan. 

I am no base Athenian Parasite,  
To fly from thy Calamities; I'll help to bear 'em.   Tim. 

Oh my Evandra, they're not to be born.  
Accursed Athens! Forest of two legged Beasts;  
Plague, civil War, and famine, be thy lot:  
Let propagation cease, that none of thy  
Confounding spurious brood may spring  
To infect and damn succeeding Generations;  
May every Infant like the Viper gnaw  
A passage through his mother's cursed Womb;  
And kill the hag, or if they fail of it,  
May then the Mothers like fell ravenous bitch's  
Devour their own base Whelps.   Evan. 

Timon! compose thy thoughts, I know thy wants,  
And that thy Creditors like wild Beasts wait  
To pray upon thee; and base Athens has  
To its eternal Infamy deserted thee.  
But thy unwearied bounty to Evandra  
Has so enriched her, she in wealth can vie  
With any of th' extorting Senators,  
And comes to lay it all at thy feet.   Tim. 

Thy most amazing generosity overwhelms me;  
It covers me all o'er with shame and blushes.  
Thou hast obliged a wretch too much already,  
And I have used thee ill for't; fly, fly, Evandra!  
I have rage and madness, and I shall infect thee.  
Earth! take me to thy centre; open quickly!  
Oh that the World were all on fire!   Evan. 

Oh my dear Lord! this sight will break my heart;  
Take comfort to you, let your Creditors  
Swallow their maws full; we have yet enough,  
Let us retire together and live free  
From all the smiles and frowns of humane kind;  
I shall have all I wish for, having thee.   Tim. 

My senses are not sound, I never can  
Deserve thee: I've used thee scurvily.   Evan. 

No, my dear Timon, thou hast not.  
Comfort thyself, if thou hast been unkind,  
Forgive thyself and I forgive thee for it.   Tim. 

I never will;  
Nor will I be obliged to one,  
I have treated so injuriously as her—   [Aside. Evan. 

Pray, my Lord, go home; strive to compose  
Yourself. All that I have was and is yours; I wish  
It ne'er had been, that yet I might have shown  
By stronger proofs how much I love my Timon.   Tim. 

Most Excellent of all the whole Creation,  
Thou art too good that thou shouldst e'er partake  
Of my misfortunes—  
And I am resolved not to involve her in 'em. [Aside.  
Prithee Evandra go to thy own House,  
I am once more to give my flattering Rogues  
An entertainment but such a one as shall befit 'em;  
And then I'll see thee.   Evan. 
Heaven ever bless my Dear.  [Ex. Timon and Evandra. Enter Phaeax, Cleon, Isander, Isidore, Thrasillus, Aelius. Phae. 
I think my honourable Lord did but try us.  Cleon. 

On my life it was no more. His Steward assured  
Me his condition was near as good as ever.   Isand. 

That I doubt— but 'tis well at present  
By his new feasting.   Aelius. 
I am sorry I was not furnished when he sent to me.  Isid. 
I am sick of that grief, now I see how all things go.  Enter Timon and Attendants. Tim. 

Oh! my kind friends! how is't with you all?  
How I rejoice to see you! Come, serve in Dinner.   Phaeax. 

My noble Lord! never so well as when your  
Lordship is so.   Aelius 

I am sick with shame that I  
Should be so unfortunate a Beggar when you sent to me.   Tim. 

No more, no more, I did but make trial: I have  
No need of any sums; my Estate is in good health still.   Phaeax. 

Trial my good Lord? Would any one refuse  
Your Lordship were it in his power? Command half  
My estate! I am sorry I was so in haste, I could  
Not stay to tell you this. I have received Bills even now.  
Pray use me— I hope he will not take me at my word.   [aside Isan. 

Take it not unkindly, my good Lord, that I could  
Not serve you. Now my Lord command me— I am able.   Tim. 

I beseech you do not think on't: I know ye love me,  
All of ye.   Phaeax. 
Equal with ourselves, my dear Lord.  Thra. 
If you had sent but two hours before to me?—  Cleon. 
Now I have money, pray command it.  Tim. 

No more, for heavens sake; think you I distrust  
My kind good friends! you are the best of friends.  
My fortune ne'er shall drive me from you, and should  
Mine fail, which I hope it never will,  
I know I may command all yours.   Phaeax. 

I shall think myself happy enough if you would  
But command my utmost Drachma.   Aelius. 

That were honour indeed; to serve Lord Timon,  
I would with life and fortune.   Isan. 
Alas! who would not be proud of it?  Isid. 
Not a man in Athens.  Cleon. 

There's no foot of my Estate your Lordship  
May not call your own.   Thra. 
Nor mine, my noble Lord.  Tim. 

Thanks to my worthy friends. Who has such  
Kind, such hearty friends as I have?   Aelius. 
All covered Dishes.  Isan. 
Royal cheer I warrant you.  Phaeax. 

Doubt not of that; if money or the season  
Can afford it.   Isid. 
The same good Lord still.  Tim. 

Come, my worthy Friends, let's sit! make it  
Not a City feast, to let the meat cool ere we agree  
Upon our places.   

The GRACE.  
You great Benefactors, make yourselves praised for your own gifts, base ungrateful man will not do it of himself; reserve still to give, lest your Deities be despised; were your Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake ye: make the meat beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no Assembly of twenty be without a score of Villains. If there be twelve women, let a dozen of'em be .... as they are. Confound I beseech you, all the Senators of Athens, together with the common people. What is amiss make fit for destruction, for these my present friends, as they are to me nothing so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they welcome, but Toads and Snakes: A feast fit for such venomous Knaves.   Phaeax. 
What does he mean?  Aelius. 
He's mad I think.  Tim. 

May you a better feast never behold.  
You knot of mouth friends, vapours, lukewarm Knaves;  
Most smiling, smooth detested Parasites,  
Courteous destroyers, affable Wolves, meek Bears,  
You Fools of Fortune, Trencher Friends, Time Flies,  
Cap and knee Slaves; an everlasting leprosy  
Crust you quite o'er; what, dost thou steal away?  
Soft, take thy physic first, and thou, and thou; stay I will  
Lend thee money— borrow none.   Phaeax. 
What means your Lordship? I'll be gone.  Cleon. 
And I. He'll murder us.  Aelius. 
This is raging madness; fly, fly.  [They run off. Tim. 

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.   [Ex. Timon.  

ACT iu.  Timon Solus. Tim. 

LET me look back upon thee! Oh thou wall  
That girdlest in those Wolves! Sink in the Earth,  
And fence not Athens longer; that vile Den  
Of savage Beasts; ye Matrons all turn Whores;  
Obedience fail in Children; Slaves and Fools  
Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the Bench,  
And minister in their stead. To general filths  
Convert o'th' instant green Virginity;  
Do't in their 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,  
Mistress to the Brothel. Son of twenty one,  
Pluck the lined Crutch from thy old limping Sire:  
And with it beat his brains out. Piety, Fear,  
Religion to the Gods; Peace, Justice, Truth,  
Domestic awe, night rest, and neighbourhood,  
Instruction, Manners, Mysteries and Trades,  
Degrees, Observations, Customs and Laws,  
Decline to your confounding contraries;  
And let confusion live. Plagues incident to men,  
Your potent and infectious fevers heap  
On Athens ripe for vengeance. Cold Sciatica  
Cripple the Senators, that their limbs may halt  
As lamely as their manners. Lust and Liberty  
Creep in the minds and marrows of your youth;  
That against the stream of virtue they may strive  
And drown themselves in riot. Itches, blains,  
Sow all the Athenians bosoms, and their Crop  
Be general leprosy. Breath infect breath;  
That their Society as their friendship, may  
Be merely poison. Nothing, nothing I bear from thee:  
farewell. thou most detested Town, and sudden  
ruin swallow thee.   [Ex. Tim. Scene the Senate House, all the Senate sitting— Alcibiades. Nic. 

How dare you, Alcibiades,  
Knowing your Sentence not recalled, venture hither?   Alcib. 

You see my reverend Lords what confidence  
I place in you, that durst expose my person  
Before my sentence be recalled: I am not now  
Petitioner for myself; I leave my case  
To your good and generous natures, when you shall  
Think I've deserved your favour for my service.  
I am an humble Suitor to your virtue,  
For mercy is the virtue of the Law,  
And none but Tyrants use it cruelly:  
'Tis for a Gallant Officer of mine;  
As brave a man as e'er drew Sword for Athens.  
'Tis Thrasibulus, who in heat of blood,  
Has stepped into the Law above his depth.   Nic. 
True, he has killed a man.  Alcib. 

I've been before the Areopagus, and they refuse  
All mercy. He is a man (setting his Fate aside) of comely  
Virtues, nor did he soil the fact with cowardice;  
But with a noble fury did revenge  
His injured reputation.   Phaeax. 
You strive to make an ugly deed look fair.  Nic. 

As if you'd bring manslaughter into form,  
And valour did consist in quarrelling.   Aelius. 

That is a base and illegitimate valour:  
He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer.   Isan. 

All single combats are detestable,  
And courage that's not warranted by law,  
Is much too dangerous a vice to go unpunished.   Isid. 

If injuries be evil, death is most ill,  
And then what folly is it for the less ill  
To hazard life the chiefest good?   Cleon. 
There's no such courage as in bearing wrong.  Alcib. 

If there be such valour in bearing, what  
Do we abroad? Women are then more valiant  
That stay at home. And the Ass a better Captain  
Than is the lion. The Malefactor that is  
Loaden with Irons, wiser than the Judge.   Nic. 

You cannot make gross sins look clean  
With eloquence.   Alcib. 

Why do fond men expose themselves to Battle,  
And not endure all threats, and sleep upon 'em,  
And let the foes quietly cut their throats?  
Come my Lords— be pitiful and good.   Nic. 
He that's more merciful than Law, is cruel.  Alcib. 

The utmost law is downright Tyranny:  
To kill I grant is the extremest guilt,  
But in defence of Honour.   Phae. 

Honour! is any Honour to be fought for  
But the Honour of our Country?   Alcib. 

Who will not fight for's own, will never fight  
For that: Let him that has no anger judge him;  
How many in their anger would commit  
This captain's fault— had they but courage for it?   Cleon. 
You speak in vain.  Alcib. 

If you will not excuse his Crime, consider  
Who he is, and what he has done;  
His service at Lacedaemon and Byzantium,  
Are bribes sufficient for his Life.   Nic. 

He did his duty, and was rewarded with  
His pay, and if he had not done it, he should  
Be punished.   Alcib. 

How my Lords! is that all the return  
For soldier's toils, fasting and watching;  
The many cruel hardships which they suffer;  
The multitude of hazards, blood, and loss  
Of Limbs?   Isan. 
Come, you urge it too far, he dies.  Alcib. 

He has slain in fight hundreds of Enemies.  
How full of valour did he bear himself  
In the last conflict! what death and wounds he gave!   Isid. 
H'has given too many.  Aelius. 

He is a known Rioter, he has a fin  
That often drowns him; in that beastly fury  
He has committed outrages.   Phae. 

Such as we shall not name, since others were  
Concerned in 'em, you know.   Nic. 

In short,  
His days are foul, and nights are dangerous;  
And he must die.   Alcib. 

Hard Fate! he might have died nobly in fight,  
And done you service: if not for his deserts;  
Consider all my actions Lords, and join 'em  
With his— your reverend Ages love security,  
And therefore should cherish those that give it you.   Phae. 
You are too bold— he dies. No more—  Alcib. 
Too bold, Lord! do you know who I am?  Cleon. 
What says he?  Alcib. 
Call me to your remembrances.  Isan. 
Consider well the place, and who we are?  Alcib. 

I cannot think but you have forgotten me.  
Must I sue for such common grace,  
And be denied? my wounds ache at you!   Nic. 

You're insolent! we have not forgotten yet  
Your riot and destructive Vices; whoredoms,  
Profaneness, giddy headed passions.   Phae. 

Your breaking Mercury's Statues, and mocking  
The mysteries of sacred Proserpina.   Alcib. 

Insolent! now you provoke me. I am vexed to see  
Your private malice vented in a place  
Where honest men would only think  
On public Interest. 'Tis base, and in another place  
You would not speak thus.   Nic. 
How say you!  Alcib. 

I thought the Images of Mercury had only been  
The Favourites of the Rabble, and the rites of  
Proserpina: These things are mockery to men  
Of sense. What folly 'tis to worship Statues when  
You'd kick the Rogues that made 'em!   Phaedria. 
How dare you talk thus? you have been a Rebel?  Alcib. 

Can any but the basest of mankind  
Urge that to me by whom he keeps that head  
That utters this against me? my Rebellion!  
It was against the common people. And you all  
Are Rebels against them.   Nic. 
Cease your Insolence! we sided not with Spartans.  Alcib. 

What means had I to humble th' Athenian  
Rabble but that?   Phae. 

It was well done to get your friend King Agis  
His Wife with Child in his absence.   Alcib. 

He was a Blockhead, and I mended his breed for him.  
But what is that to'th' matter now in hand?  
You have provoked me Lords, and I must tell you,  
It is by me you sit in safety here.   Phae. 
By you, bold man?  Alcib. 

Yes by me! fearful man!  
You have incensed me now beyond all patience,  
And I must tell you what ye own me, Lords.  
'Twas I that kept great Tissaphernes from  
The Spartans' aid, by which Athens by this  
Had been one heap of Rubbish, I stopped  
A hundred and fifty galleys from Phoenicia,  
Which would have fallen upon you: 'Twas I made  
This Tissaphernes, Athens Friend, upon condition  
That they would awe the common people, and take  
The Government into the best men's hands;  
Would you were so; I sent Pisander then  
To form this Aristocracy, and promised  
The Persian Generals Forces to assist you;  
And when you had this power, you cast me off  
That got it you.   Nic. 

My Lords! let him be silenced;  
Shall he thus beard the Senate?   Alcib. 

I will be heard, and then your pleasure Lords.  
Did not your Army in the Isle of Samos,  
Offended at your Government, choose me General?  
And would have Marched to your destruction,  
Which I diverted? in that time your Foes  
Would soon have won the Country of Jonia,  
Of th' Hellespont and all the other Isles,  
While you had been employed at home  
With Civil Wars. I kept some back by force,  
And by fair words others, in which Thrasibulus,  
This man of Stiria, whom you thus condemn,  
Having the loudest voice of all the Athenians  
Employed by me, cried out to all the Army;  
And thus we kept 'em from you, Lords, and now  
Athens a second time was saved by me.   Phae. 
'Tis a shame that we should suffer this!  Alcib. 

'Tis a shame these things are unrewarded.  
Another time I kept five hundred Sail  
Of the Phoenicians from the aid  
Of the Lacedæmonians, won from 'em a Sea Battle,  
Before the City of Abydos;  
In spite of Pharnabazus mighty Power.  
Think on my Victory all Cizicum, where I  
Slew Mendorus in the Field, and took the City;  
I brought then the Bythinians to your yoke,  
Won Silibraea on the Hellespont;  
And then Byzantium: thus not only I  
Diverted the Torrent of the army's fury  
From you, but turned it on the Enemies,  
And all the while you safely told your money,  
And let it out upon extorted Interest;  
Must I be after all poorly denied  
His life who has so often ventured it for you?   Phae. 

He dies, and you deserve it, but our sentence  
Is for your insolence, we banish you;  
If you be two hours more within these walls,  
Your head is forfeited. Do you all consent?   All Sen. 
All, All!  Alcib. 

All, all! I am glad I know you all!  
Banish me! Banish your dotage! your extortion!  
Banish your foul corruptions and self ends!  
Oh the base Spirit of a commonwealth!  
One Tyrant is much better than four hundred;  
The worst of Kings would be ashamed of this:  
I am only rich in my large hurts from you.  
Is this the balsam the ill natured Senate  
Pours into captain's wounds? Ha'! banishment?  
A good man would not stay with you, I embrace  
My Sentence: 'Tis a cause that's worthy of me.   [Ex. Alcib. Nic. 

Was ever— heard such daring insolence?  
Shall we break up the Senate?   All Sen. 
Ay, Ay.  Timon in the Woods digging. Tim. 

O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the Fens,  
The Bogs and muddy marshes, and from  
Corrupted standing Lakes, rotten humidity  
Enough to infect the Air with dire consuming Pestilence,  
And let the poisonous exhalations fall  
Down on th' Athenians; they're all flatterers,  
And so is all mankind.  
For every degree of fortune's smoothed  
And soothed by that below it; the learned pate  
Ducks to the golden Fool; There's nothing level  
In our conditions, but base villainy;  
Therefore be abhorred each man and all Society;  
Earth yields me roots; thou common whore of mankind,  
That puttest such odds amongst the rout of Nations;  
I'll make thee do thy right office. Ha', what's here?  
Gold, yellow, glittering precious gold! enough  
To purchase my estate again: Let me see further;  
What a vast mass of Treasure's here! There lie,  
I will use none, 'twill bring me flatterers.  
I'll send a pattern on't to the Athenians,  
And let 'em know what a vast Mass I've found,  
Which I'll keep from 'em. I think I see a Passenger  
Not far off, I'll send it by him to the Senate.   [Ex. Timon. Enter Evandra. Evan. 

How long shall I seek my unhappy Lord?  
But I will find him or will lose my life.  
Oh base and shameful villainy of man,  
Amongst so many thousands he has obliged,  
Not one would follow him in his afflictions!  
Ha! here is a Spade! sure this belongs to some one  
Who's not far off, I will inquire of him.   Enter Timon. Tim. 

Who's there? what beast art thou that com'st  
To trouble me?   Evan. 

Pray do not hurt me. I am come to seek  
The poor distressed Timon, did you see him?   Tim. 

If thou beest born of wicked humane race,  
Why comest thou hither to disturb his mind?  
He has forsworn all Company!   Evan. 

Is this my Lord! oh dreadful transformation!  
My dearest Lord, do you not know me?   Tim. 

Thou walkest upon two legs, and hast a face  
Erect towards heaven; and all such Animals  
I have abjured; they are not honest,  
Those Creatures that are so, walk on all four,  
Prithee be gone.   Evan. 

He's much distracted sure? Have you forgotten  
Your poor Evandra?   Tim. 

No! I remember there was such a one,  
Whom I used ill! why dost thou follow misery?  
And add to it? prithee be gone.   Evan. 

These cruel words will break my heart, I come  
Not to increase thy misery but mend it.  
Ah, my dear Timon, why this Slave-like habit?  
And why this Spade?   Tim. 
'Tis to dig roots, and earn my dinner with.  Evan. 

I have converted part of my estate  
To money and to Jewels, and have brought 'em  
To lay 'em at thy feet, and the remainder  
Thou soon shalt have.   Tim. 
I will not touch 'em; no, I shall be flattered.  Evan. 

Comfort thyself and quit this savage life;  
We have enough in spite of all the baseness  
Of th' Athenians, let not those slave's  
Triumph o'er thy afflictions; we'll live free.   Tim. 

If thou disswad'st me from this life, Thou hat'st me;  
For all the Principalities on earth,  
I would not change this Spade! prithee be gone,  
Thou temptest me but in vain.   Evan. 

Be not so cruel.  
Nothing but death shall ever take me from thee.   Tim. 

I'll never change my life: what wouldst thou  
Do with me?   Evan. 

I'd live the same: Is there a time or place,  
A temper or condition I would leave  
My Timon in?   Tim. 
You must not stay with me?  Evan. 

Oh too unkind!  
I offered thee all my prosperity—  
And thou most niggardly deniest me part  
Of thy Afflictions.   Tim. 

Ah soft Evandra! is not the bleak Air  
Too boisterous a Chamberlain for thee?  
Or dost thou think these reverend trees that have  
Outlived the Raven, will be Pages to thee?  
And skip where thou appoint'st 'em? Will the Brook  
Candid with Morning Ice, be Caudle to thee?   Evan. 
Thou wilt be all to me.  Tim. 

I am savage as a satire, and my temper  
Is much unsound, my brain will be distracted.   Evan. 
Thou wilt be Timon still, that's all I ask.  Tim. 

It was a comfort to me when I thought  
That thou were't prosperous; Thou art too good  
To suffer with me the rough boisterous weather,  
To mortify thyself with roots and water,  
'Twill kill thee. Prithee be gone.   Evan. 
To Death if you command.  Tim. 
I have forsworn all humane conversation.  Evan. 
And so have I but thine.  Tim. 

'Twill then be misery indeed to see  
Thee bear it.   Evan. 

On my knees I beg it.  
If thou refusest me, I'll kill myself.  
I swear by all the Gods.   Tim. 

Rise my Evandra!  
I now pronounce to all the world, there is  
One woman honest; if they ask me more  
I will not grant it: Come, my dear Evandra,  
I'll show thee wealth enough I found with digging,  
To purchase all my land again, which I  
Will hid from all mankind.   Evan. 
Put all my Gold and Jewels to't.  Tim. 

Well said Evandra! look, here is enough  
To make black white, foul fair, wrong right;  
Base noble, old young, Cowards valiant.  
Ye Gods here is enough to lug your Priests  
And Servants from your Altars. This thing can  
Make the hoared leprosy adored, place thiefs  
And give 'em title, knee and approbation;  
This makes the toothless, warped and withered Widows  
Mary again. This can embalm and sweeten  
Such as the Spittle-House and ulcerous Creatures  
Would cast the gorge at: this can defile  
The purest Bed, and make divorce 'twixt Son  
And Father, Friends and Kindred, all Society;  
Can bring up new Religions, and kill Kings.   Evan. 

Let the Earth that breeds it, hid it, there 'twill  
Sleep, and do no hired mischief.   Tim. 
Now Earth for a root.  Evan. 

'tis her unfathomed Womb teems and feeds all,  
And of such vile corrupting mettle, as  
Man, her proud arrogant— Child is made of, does  
Engender black Toads, and Adders blue, the guilded Newt  
And eye-less venomed worm, with all  
The loathsome Births the quickening Sun does shine on.   Tim. 

Yield him, who all thy humane Sons does hate,  
From out thy plenteous bosom some poor roots;  
Sear up thy fertile Womb to all things else;  
Dry up thy marrow, thy Veins, thy Tilth and pasture,  
Whereof ungrateful man with liquorish draughts  
And unctuous morsels greases his pure mind,  
That from it all consideration slips.  
But hold a while— I am faint and weary,  
My tender hands not us'd to toil, are galled   Evan. 

Repose your self my dearest love thus— your head  
Upon my lap, and when thou hast refreshed  
Thyself, I'll gather Fruits and Berries for thee.   Enter Apemantus. Tim. 
More Plague! more man! retire into my Cave.  [Ex. Evan. Apem 

I was directed hither, men report  
That thou affectest my manners, and dost use 'em.   Tim. 

'Tis then because I would not keep a Dog  
Should imitate thee.   Apem. 

This is in thee a nature but infected,  
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung  
From change of fortune. Why this Spade? this place?  
This slave-like Habit, and these looks of care?  
Thy sordid flatterers yet wear silk, lie soft,  
Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgotten  
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 each Great man's breath blow off thy Cap.  
Praise his most monstrous deformities,  
And call his foulest Vices excellent.  
Thou wert used thus.   Tim. 
Dost thou love to hear thyself prate?  Apem. 
No; but thou shouldst hear me speak.  Tim. 
I hate thy speech, and spit at thee.  Apem. 
Do not assume my likeness to disgrace it.  Tim. 

Were I like thee, I'd use the Copy  
As the Original should be used.   Apem. 
How should it be used?  Tim. 
It should be hanged.  Apem. 

Before thou wert a Mad-man, now a Fool;  
Art thou proud still? call any of those Creatures  
Whose naked natures live in all the spite  
Of angry heaven, whose bare un-housed trunks  
To the conflicting Elements exposed,  
Answer me Nature, bid 'em flatter thee,  
And thou shalt find—   Tim. 
An Ass of thee—  Apem. 
I love thee better now than e'er I did—  Tim. 
I hate thee worse—  Apem. 
Why so?  Tim. 
Thou flatterest misery.  Apem. 
I flatter not, but say thou art a Wretch—  Tim. 
Why dost thou seek me out?  Apem. 
Perhaps to vex thee.  Tim. 
Always a Villains office or a Fools.  Apem. 

If thou dost put on this sour life and habit  
To castigate thy Pride, 'twere well, but thou  
Dost it enforc'dly, wert thou not a Beggar,  
Thou'dst be a Courtier again.   Tim. 

Slave thou lie'st, 'tis next thee the last thing  
Which I would be on earth.   Apem. 

How much does willing poverty excel  
Uncertain pomp! for this is filling still,  
Never complete, that always at high wish;  
But thou hast a contentless wretched being,  
Thou shouldst desire to die being miserable.   Tim. 
Not by his advice that is more miserable.  Apem. 
I am contented with my poverty.  Tim. 

Thou liest. Thou wouldst not snarl so if thou wert.  
But 'tis a burden that is light to thee,  
For thou hast been always used to carry it.  
Thou art a thing whom Fortunes tender arms  
With favour never clasped, but bred a Dog;  
Hadst thou like me from thy first swath proceeded  
To all the sweet, degrees, that this brief world  
Afforded me; thou wouldst have plunged thyself  
In general riot, melted down thy youth  
In different Beds of lust, and never learned  
The Icy precepts of Morality,  
But hadst pursued the alluring game before thee.   Apem. 
Thou liest— I would have lived just as I do.  Tim. 

Poor Slave! thou dost not know thyself! thou well  
Canst bear what thou hast been bred to;  
But for me, who had the world as my Confectionary,  
The Tongues, the Eyes, the Ears, the hearts of all men,  
At duty more than I could frame employments for,  
That numberless upon me stuck as leaves  
Upon the Oak, they'ave with one Winters brush  
Fallen from their boughs and left me open, bare  
To every storm that blows: for me to bear this  
Who never knew but better, is a great burden;  
Thy nature did commence in sufferance. Time  
Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?  
They never flattered thee: If thou wilt Curse,  
Curse then thy Father who in spite put stuff  
To some She-Beggar, and compounded thee,  
A poor Hereditary Rogue.   Apem. 

Poor Ass!  
The middle of humanity thou ne'er  
Didst know, but the extremity of both ends;  
When thou wert in thy gilt and thy perfumes,  
Men mocked thee for thy too much curiosity;  
Thou in thy rags know'st none.   Tim. 

Be gone thou tedious prating Fool.  
That the whole life of Athens were in this  
One root, thus would I eat it.   Apem. 
I'll mend thy Feast.  Tim. 
Mend my condition, take thyself away.  Apem. 
What wouldst thou have to Athens?  Tim. 
Thee thither in a Whirlwind.  Apem. 
When I have nothing else to do, I'll see thee again.  Tim. 

If there were nothing living but thyself,  
Thou shouldst not even then be welcome to me;  
I had rather be a beggar's Dog than Apemantus.   Apem. 
Thou art a miserable Fool.  Tim. 
Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.  Apem. 

Thou art too bad to Curse: no misery  
That I could wish thee but thou hast already.   Tim. 

Be gone thou Issue of a Mangy Dog.  
I swoon to see thee.   Apem. 
Would thou wouldst burst.  Tim. 
Away, thou tedious Rogue, or I will cleave thy scull.  Apem. 
Farewell Beast.  Tim. 
Be gone Toad.  Apem. 

The Athenians report thou hast found a Mass  
Of Treasure; they'll find thee out: The plague  
Of Company light on thee.   Tim. 

Slave! Dog! Viper! out of my sight. [Ex. Apem.  
Choler will kill me if I see mankind!  
Come forth Evandra? Thou art kind and good.   Enter Evandra. 

Canst thou eat roots and drink at that fresh spring?  
Our feastings come to this.   Evan. 

whate'er I eat  
Or drink with thee is feast enough to me;  
Wouldst thou compose thy thoughts and be content,  
I should be happy.   Tim. 

Let's quench our thirst at yonder murmuring Brook,  
And then repose a while.   [Exeunt. Enter Poet, Painter and Musician. Poet. 

As I took note o' the place it cannot be far off,  
Where he abides.   Mus. 
Does the rumour hold for certain, that he's so full of Gold?  Poet. 

'Tis true! He has found an infinite store of Gold,  
He has sent a Pattern of it to the Senate;  
You will see him a Palm again in Athens,  
And flourish with the highest of 'em all.  
Therefore 'tis fit in this supposed distress,  
We tender all our services to him—   Paint. 
If the report be true we shall succeed.  Mus. 
If we should not—  Re-enter Timon and Evandra. Poet. 

we'll venture our joint labours. Yon is he,  
I know by the description.   Mus. 
Let's hid ourselves and see how he will take it.  [A Symphony. Evan. 
Here's music in the Woods, whence comes it?  Tim. 

From flattering Rogues who have heard that I  
Have Gold; but that their disappointment would be greater,  
In taking pains for nought, I'd send 'em back—   Poet. 
Hail-worthy Timon—  Mus. 
Our most noble Master—  Paint. 
My most excellent Lord.  Tim. 
Have I once lived to see three honest men?  Poet. 

Having so often tasted of your bounty,  
And hearing you were retired, your friends fallen off,  
For whose ungrateful natures we are grieved,  
We come to do you service.   Mus. 

We are not of so base a mould; we should  
Desert our noble Patron!   Tim. 

Most honest men! oh, how shall I requite you?  
Can you eat roots, and drink cold water?   Poet. 
whate'er we can, we will to do you service.  Tim. 

Good men! come you are honest, you have heard  
That I have gold enough! speak truth, you're honest.   Poet. 
So it is said: but therefore came not we.  Mus. 
Not we my Lord.  Paint. 
We thought not of it.  Tim. 
You are good men, but have one monstrous fault.  Poet. 
I beseech your honour, what is it?  Tim. 
Each of you trusts a damned notorious Knave.  Paint. 
Who is that, my Lord?  Tim. 

Why one another, and each trusts himself.  
Ye base Knaves, Tripartite! Begun! make haste!  
Or I will use you so like Knaves.   [He stone's 'em. Poet. 
Fly, fly,—  [All run out. Tim. 

How sick am I of this false World? I'll now  
Prepare my Grave, to lie where the light foam  
Of the outrageous Sea may wash my corpse.   Evan. 

My dearest Timon, do not talk of Death;  
My Life and thine together must determine.   Tim. 

There is no rest without it; prithee leave  
My wretched Fortune, and live long and happy,  
Without thy Timon. There is wealth enough.   Evan. 

I have no wealth but thee, let us lie down to rest;  
I am very faint and heavy—   [They lie down. Enter Melissa and Chloe. Mel. 

Let the Chariot stay there.  
It is most certain he has found a Mass of money,  
And he has sent word to the Senate he's richer than ever.   Chlo. 
Sure were he rich, he would appear again.  Mel. 

If he be, I doubt not but with my love I'll charm  
Him back to Athens, 'twas my deserting him has  
Made him thus Melancholy.   Chlo. 
If he be not, you'll promise love in vain.  Mel. 

If he be not, my promise shall be vain;  
For I'll be sure to break it: Thus you saw  
When Alcibiades was banished last,  
I would not see him; I am always true  
To interest and to myself. There Lord Timon lies!   Tim. 
What wretch art thou come to disturb me?  Mel. 

I am one that loves thee so, I cannot lose thee.  
I am gotten from my Father and my Friends,  
To call thee back to Athens, and her arms  
Who cannot live without thee.   Evan. 

It is Melissa! prithee listen not  
To her destructive Siren's voice.   Tim. 
Fear not.  Mel. 

Dost thou not know thy dear Melissa?  
To whom thou mad'st such vows!   Tim. 

O yes, I know that piece of vanity,  
That frail, proud, inconstant foolish thing.  
I do remember once upon a time,  
She swore eternal love to me, soon after  
She would not see me, shunned me, slighted me.   Mel. 

Ah now I see thou never lov'dst me Timon,  
That was a trial which I made of thee,  
To find if thou didst love me, if thou hadst  
Thou wouldst have born it:: I loved thee then much more  
Than all the World— but thou art false I see,  
And any little change can drive thee from me,  
And thou wilt leave me miserable.   Evan. 

Mind not that Crocodiles tears,  
She would betray thee.   Mel. 

Is there no truth among Mankind? had I  
So much ingratitude, I had left  
Thy fallen fortune, and ne'er seen thee more:  
Ah Timon! Couldst thou have been kind, I could  
Rather have begged with thee, than have enjoyed  
With any other all the Pomp of Greece;  
But thou art lost and hast forgotten all thy Oaths.   Evan. 

Why should you strive to invade another's right?  
He's mine, for ever mine: These arms  
Shall keep him from thee.   Mel. 

Thine! poor mean Fool! has marriage made him so?  
No,— Thou art his Concubine, dishonest thing;  
I would enjoy him honestly.   Tim. 

Peace, screech Owl: There is much more honesty  
In this one woman than in all thy Sex  
Blended together; our hearts are one;  
And she is mine for ever: wert thou the Queen  
Of all the Universe, I would not change her for thee.   Evan. 

Oh my dear Lord! this is a better Cordial  
Than all the World can give.   Tim. 

False! proud! affected! vain fantastic thing;  
Be gone, I would not see thee, unless I were  
A Basilisk: thou boast'st that thou art honest of thy Body,  
As if the Body made one honest: Thou hast a vile  
Corrupted filthy mind—   Mel. 
I am no Whore as she is.  Tim. 

Thou liest, she's none: But thou art one in thy Soul:  
Be gone, or thou'lt provoke me to do a thing unmanly,  
And beat thee hence.   Mel. 
Farewell Beast.—  [Ex. Mel. and Chlo. Evan. 

Let me kiss thy hand my dearest Lord,  
If it were possible more dear than ever.   Tim. 

Let's now go seek some rest within my Cave,  
If any we can have without the Grave.   [Exeunt.  

ACT V.  Enter Timon and Evandra. Tim. 

NOW after all the follies of this life,  
Timon has made his everlasting Mansion;  
Upon the beached Verge of the Salt Flood;  
Where every day the swelling Surge shall wash him;  
There he shall rest from all the Villainies,  
Betraying smiles, or th'oppressing frowns  
Of proud and impotent Man.   Evan. 

Speak not of death, I cannot lose thee yet,  
Throw off this dire consuming Melancholy.  
Oh couldst thou love as I do, thou'dst not have  
Another wish but me. There is no state on Earth  
Which I can envy while I've thee within  
These Arms— take comfort to thee, think not yet  
Of Death— leave not Evandra yet.   Tim. 

Thinkest thou in Death we shall not think,  
And know, and love, better than we can here?  
Oh yes, Evandra! There our Happiness  
Will be without a wish— I feel my long sickness  
Of health and living now begin to mend,  
And nothing will bring me all things: thou Evandra  
Art the thing alone on Earth would make me wish  
To play my part upon the troublesome Stage,  
Where folly, madness, falsehood, and cruelty,  
Are the only actions represented.   Evan. 

That I have loved my Timon faithfully  
Without one erring thought, the Gods can witness;  
And as my life was true, my death shall be,  
If I one minute after thee survive,  
The scorn and infamy of all my Sex  
Light on me, and may I live to be  
Melissa's Slave.   Tim. 

Oh my adored Evandra!  
Thy kindness covers me with shame and grief,  
I have deserved so little from thee;  
Were't not for thee I'd wish the World on Fire.   Enter Nicias, Phaeax, Isidore, Isander, Cleon, Thrasillus, and Aelius. 
More Plagues yet!  Nici. 

How does the Worthy Timon?  
It grieves our hearts to see thy low condition,  
And we are come to mend it.   Phaeax. 

We and the Athenians cannot live without thee,  
Cast from thee this sad grief, most noble Timon,  
The senator's of Athens greet thee with  
Their love, and do with one consenting voice  
Entreat thee back to Athens.   Tim. 

I thank 'em and would send 'em back the Plague,  
Can I but catch it for 'em.   Aelius. 
The Gods forbidden, they love thee most sincerely.  Tim. 
I will return 'em the same love they bear me.  Nic. 

Forget, most noble Timon: they are sorry  
They should deny thee thy request; they do  
Confess their fault; the public body  
Which seldom does recant, confesses it.   Cleon. 
And has sent us—  Tim. 
A very scurvy sample of that Body.  Phaeax. 

Oh my good Lord! we have ever loved you best  
Of all mankind.   Thras. 
And equal with ourselves.  Isid. 
Our hearts and souls were ever fixed upon thee.  Isan. 
We would stake our lives for you.  Phae. 

We are all grieved to think you should  
So misinterpret our best loves.   Cleon. 
Which shall continue ever firm to you.  Tim. 

Good men, you much surprise me, even to tears;  
Lend me a fool's heart and women's eyes,  
And I'll beweep these Comforts, worthy Lords.   Nic. 
We beg your honour will interpret fairly.  Phae. 

The Senate has reserved some special dignities  
Now vacant, to confer on you. They pray  
You will return, and be their Captain,  
Allowed with absolute Command.   Nic. 

Wild Alcibiades approaches Athens  
With all his force; and like a Savage Bear  
Roots up his country's peace; we humbly beg  
Thy just assistance.   Phae. 

We all know thou'rt worthy,  
And hast obliged thy Country heretofore  
Beyond return.   Aelius. 
Therefore, good noble Lord.  Tim. 

I tell you Lords,  
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 aged men by th' Beards,  
Giving up purest Virgins to the stain  
Of beastly mad-brained War; Then let him know,  
In pity of the aged and the young,  
I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,  
And let him take't at worst; for their Swords care not  
While you have throats to answer: for myself  
There's not a Knife in all the unruly Camp,  
But I do love and value more than the  
Most reverend Throat in Athens, tell 'em so!  
Be Alcibiades your Plague, ungrateful Villains.   Phae. 
Oh my good Lord, you think too hardly of us.  Aelius. 
Hang him! there's no hopes of him.  Nic. 
he'll ne'er return; he truly is Misanthropos.  Phae. 

You have gold my Lord, will you not serve  
Your Country with some of it?   Tim. 

Oh my dear Country! I do recant,  
Commend me kindly to the Senate, tell 'em  
If they will come all in one Body to me,  
And follow my advice, they shall be welcome.   Nic. 
I am sure they will, my noble Lord.  Tim. 

I will instruct 'em how to ease their griefs;  
Their fears of Hostile strokes, their Aches, Losses,  
Their covetous pangs, with other incident throes  
That nature's fragil Vessels must sustain  
In life's uncertain Voyage.   Phae. 
How my good Lord! this kind care is noble.  Tim. 

Why even thus—  
I will point out the most convenient Trees  
In all this Wood, to hang themselves upon.  
And so farewell, ye Covetous fawning Slaves be gone!  
Let me not see the face of man more, I  
Had rather see a Tiger fasting—   Nic. 
He's lost to all our purposes.  Phae. 

Let's send a party out of Athens to him,  
To force him to confess his Treasure;  
And put him to the torture, if he will not.   Nic. 
It will do well, let's away.  [drum's. Aelius. 
What Drums are those?  Phae. 

They must belong to Alcibiades!  
To Horse and fly, or we shall chance be taken.   [Exeunt. Tim. 

Go fly, Evandra, to my Cave, or thou  
Mayst suffer by the rage of lustful Villains.   Enter Alcibiades with Phryne and Thais, two Whores. Alci. 

Command a halt, and send a Messenger  
To summon Athens from me!  
What art thou there? speak.   Tim. 

A two legged Beast, as thou art, Cankers gnaw thee  
For showing me the face of man again.   Alci. 
Is man so hateful to thee! what art thou?  Tim. 

I am Misanthropos! I hate Mankind:  
And for thy part, I wish thou were't a Dog,  
That I might love thee something.  
But now I think on't, thou art going  
Against yon Cursed Town: go on! it is  
A worthy cause.   Alci. 

Oh Timon! now I know thee, I am sorry  
For thy misfortunes; and hope a little time  
Will give me occasion to redress 'em.   Tim. 

I will not alter my condition  
For all you e'er shall Conquer; no, go on,  
Paint with man's blood the Earth: die it well.  
Religious Canons, civil laws are cruel,  
What then must War be?   Alcib. 
How came the noble Timon by this change?  Tim. 

As the Moon does by wanting light to give,  
And then renew I could not like the Moon,  
There were no Suns to borrow of.   Alcib. 
What friendship shall I do thee?  Tim. 

Why, promise me friendship and perform none;  
If thou wilt not promise, thou art no man:  
If thou dost perform, thou art none neither.   Alcib. 
I am grieved to see thy misery.  Tim. 
Thou saw'st it when I was rich.  Alcib. 
Then was a happy time.  Tim. 

As thine is now, abused by a brace of Harlots.  
What dost thou fight with women by thy side?   Alcib. 

No, but after all the toils and hazards of the day  
With men, I refresh myself at night with Women.   Tim. 

These false Whores of thine have more destruction  
In 'em than thy Sword.   Phry. 
Thou art a Villain to say so—  Thais. 

Is this he, that was the Athenian Minion?  
A snarling Rascal.   Tim. 

Be Whores still, they love you not that use you;  
Employ all your salt hours to ruin youth,  
Soften their manners into a Lethargy  
Of sense and action.   Phry. 

Hang thee Monster; we are not Whores, we  
Are Mistresses to Alcibiades.   Tim. 

The right name is Whore, do not miscall it,  
Ye have been so to many.   Thais. 
Out on you Dog.  Alcib. 

Pray pardon him;  
His wits àre lost in his calamities;  
I have but little gold, but here's some for thee.   Tim. 
Keep it, I cannot eat it.  Alcib. 
Wilt thou go against Athens with me?  Tim. 

If ye were Beasts, I'd go with ye:  
But I'll not herd with men; yet I love thee  
Better than all men, because thou wert born  
To ruin thy base Country.   Alcib. 

I've sent to summon Athens; if she obeys not,  
I'll lay her on a heap.   Tim. 

It were a glorious act; go on, go on!  
Here's gold for thee; stay, I'll fetch thee more.   Alcib. 
What mystery is this! where should he have this?  Tim. 

Here's more Gold and Jewels! go on,  
Be a devouring Plague; let not  
Thy Sword skip one, spare thou no Sex or Age:  
Pity not honoured Age for his white Beard,  
He's an Usurer: strike the counterfeit Matron,  
It is her habit only that is honest,  
Herself's a Bawd: Let not the virgin's Cheek  
Make soft thy Sword, nor Milk-Paps giving suck:  
Spare not the Babe, whose dimpled smiles,  
From Fools exhaust their mercy; think 'twill be  
A Rogue or Whore e'er long if thou shouldst spare it.  
Put Armour on thy eyes and ears, whose proof,  
Nor yells of Mothers, Maids, nor crying Babes,  
Nor sight of Priests in Holy Vestments bleeding,  
Shall pierce one jot.   Phryn. 
Hast thou more gold, good Timon? give us some.  Thais. 

What pity 'tis he should be thus Melancholy!  
He is a fine person now.   Tim. 

Oh flattering Whores! but that I am sure you will  
Do store of mischief, I'd not give you any:  
Here! be sure you be Whores still,  
And who with pious breath seeks to convert ye,  
Be strong in Whore, allure and burn him up;  
Thatch your thin Sculls with burdens from the dead,  
Some that were hanged, no matter,  
Wear them! betray with them, Whore still;  
Paint till a Horse may mire upon your faces—  
A Pox on Wrinkles, I say.   Thais. 
Well, more Gold, say what thou wilt.  Tim. 

Sow your Consumptions in the bones of men;  
Dry up their Marrows, pain their shins  
And shoulders: Crack the lawyer's voice, that he  
May never bawl, and plead false title more.  
Entice the lustful and dissembling Priests,  
That scold against the quality of flesh,  
And not believe themselves; I am not well.  
Here's more, ye proud, lascivious, rampant Whores.  
Do you damn others, and let this damn you;  
And Ditches be all your deathbeds and your Graves.   Phry. 
More counsel, and more money, bounteous Timon.  Tim. 

More Whore! more mischief first,  
I've given you earnest.   Alcib. 

We but disturb him! Farewell,  
If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.   Tim. 

If I thrive well, I ne'er shall see thee more:  
I feel Death's happy stroke upon me now,  
He has laid his Icy hands upon me at length;  
He will not let me go again, farewell.  
Confound Athens, and then thyself.   [Ex. Timon. Alcib. 

Now march, sound trumpet's and beaten drum's,  
And let the terror of the noise invade  
The ungrateful, Cowardly, usurious Senate.   [Exeunt. Enter Nicias, Aelius, Cleon, Thrasillus, Isidore, Isander, upon the works of Athens. Nic. 

What shall we do to appease his rage?  
He has an Army able to devour us.   Phae. 

We must even humbly bow our necks, that he  
May tread on 'em.   Aelius. 
He is a man of easy nature, soon won by soothe.  Nic. 
I tremble lest he should revenge our sentence.  Isid. 
If we should resist, he'll levelly Athens.  Isan. 

And then woe to ourselves,  
Our Wives and Daughters.   Nic. 

What will become of you and me Phaeax?  
We have been Enemies to him long. I tremble for it.   Phae. 

Let us appear most forward in delivering up the  
Town to him.   Nic. 

If we resist, he'll use a conquerors Power,  
And nothing then will scape the fury of  
The Headstrong soldiers, we must all submit.  
See, he approaches. These Drums and Trumpets  
Strike terror in me! Heaven, help all.   [Enter Herald. Enter Alcibiades and his Army. Alcib. 
What answer make they to my summons?  Herald. 
They are on the works to treat with you.  Alcib. 

There's a white Flag! let us approach 'em.  
Hoa! you on the works! give me and my Army entrance,  
Or I'll let lose the fury of my soldiers,  
And make you all a prey to spoil and rapine;  
And such a flame I'll light about your ears,  
Shall make Greece tremble.   Nic. 
My noble Lord! we mean nothing less.  Phae. 
Only we beg your honour will forgive us.  Nic. 

W' have been ungrateful, and are much ashamed on't;  
Your Lordship shall tread upon our necks if you think good;  
We cannot but condemn ourselves;  
But we appeal to your known mercy and  
Your Generosity.   Phae. 

March noble Lord into our City  
With all the Banners spread;- we are thy Slaves.   Aelius. 
Your footstools.  Isid. 
What ever you will make us.  Thras. 

Enter our City, noble Alcibiades: but leave  
Your rage behind you.   Isan. 

Set but your Foot against our Gates, and they  
Shall open— so you will enter like a friend.   Alcib. 

Open the Gates without Capitulations,  
For if I set my battering Rams to work,  
You must expect no mercy.   Nic. 
We will my good Lord—  [They all come down, Nic. present Alcibiades the Keys upon his Knees. 

Our lives and Fortunes now are in thy hands;  
But we fly to thy mercy for protection.   Alcib. 

You merit as much mercy as you showed  
To Thrasibulus, such monstrous ingratitude  
Will make your villainous names grow odious  
To all the race of men, but to your selves  
To whom virtue is so.   Phae. 
'Twas the whole senate's voice.  Alcib. 

A Senate, a Den of thiefs! I little thought  
When I wrested the power from the Rabble,  
To give it you, you would be worse than they;  
But most of you deserve the Ostracism:  
Some of you are such Rogues you'd shame the Gibbet.   Nic. 
Good my Lord! tread on our necks, but pardon us.  Phae. 
we'll be your Slaves if you'll forgive us.  Alcib. 

Can you forgive Thrasibulus when he's dead?  
Must we be used thus after our frequent hazards, and our  
Toils, hard weary marching! watching! fasting!  
Such dreadful hardships, lying out such nights  
A Beast could not abide without a Covert,  
And all for Pursy-lazy-knaves, that snort  
In peace at home, and wallow in their bags?  
Must we the bulwarks of our Country be  
Thus used?   Phae. 
Cease to reproach us, my good Lord.  Aelius. 
We are full of shame and guilt.  Cleon. 
Pardon us, good Alcibiades.  Thras. 
We hearty repent.  Isid. 
we'll kiss thy feet, good Lord.  Isan. 
Do with us what thou wilt.  Alcib. 

You six of the foremost here must meet me  
In the Ανυξ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, where I'll order the πειτανες 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
To Assemble all the people—  
And on your Knees present yourselves  
With Halters 'bout your necks!   Phae. 
Oh my good Lord!  Alcib. 

Dispute it not, for by the Gods if you  
Fail in this point, I'll hang ye all,  
Rifle your Houses, and extirpate all  
Your race— March on.  
Give order that not a man shall break his ranks,  
Or shall offend the regular course of Justice,  
On penalty of Death— March on—   [Ex. Omnes. Enter Timon and Evandra coming out of the Cave. Evan. 

Oh my dear Lord! why do you stoop and bend  
Like Flowers o'ercharged with dew, who's yielding stalks  
Cannot support 'em? I have a Cordial which  
Will much revive thy Spirits.   Tim. 

No, sweet Evandra,  
I have taken the best Cordial, Death, which now  
Kindly gins to work about my Vitals;  
I feel him, he comforts me at heart.   Evan. 

Oh my dear Timon! must we then part?  
That I should live to see this fatal day!  
Had death but seized me first, I had been happy.   Tim. 

My poor Evandra! lead me to my Grave!  
Lest Death o'ertake me— he pursues me hard:  
He's close upon me. 'Tis the last office thou  
Canst do for Timon.   Evan. 

Hard, stubborn Heart,  
Wilt thou not break yet? Death, why art thou coy  
To me that court thee?   Tim. 

Lay me gently down  
In my last tenement. Death's the truest Friend,  
That will not flatter, but deals plainly with us.  
So, now my weary Pilgrimage on Earth  
Is almost finished! Now my best Evandra  
I charge thee, by our loves, our mutual loves,  
Live! and live happy after me: and if  
A thought of Timon comes into thy mind,  
And brings a tear from thee, let some diversion  
Banish it— quickly, strive to forget me.   Evan. 

Oh! Timon! Thinkest thou! I am such a Coward,  
I will not keep my word? Death shall not part us.   Tim. 

If thou'lt not promise me to live, I cannot  
Resign my life in peace, I will be with thee  
After my Death; my soul shall follow thee,  
And hover still about thee, and guard thee from  
All harm.   Evan. 
Life is the greatest harm when thou art dead.  Tim. 

Canst thou forgive thy Timon who involved  
Thee in his sad Calamities?   Evan. 

It is a blessing to share any thing  
With thee! oh thou look'st pale! thy countenance changes!  
Oh whither art thou going?   Tim. 

To my last home. I charge thee live, Evandra!  
Thou lov'st me not, if thou wilt not obey me;  
Thou only! dearest! kind! constant thing on earth,  
Farewell.   [Dies. Evan. 

He's gone! he's gone! would all the world were so,  
I must make haste, or I shall not o'ertake  
Him in his flight. Timon, I come, stay for me,  
Farewell base World.   [Stabs herself. Dies. Enter Alcibiades, Phrinias, and Thais, his Officers and soldiers, and his Train, the senator's. The Penople by degrees assembling. Enter Melissa. Mel. 

My Alcibiades, welcome! doubly welcome!  
The Joys of Love and Conquest ever bless thee.  
Wonder and terror of Mankind, and Joy  
Of Woman kind: now thy Melissa's happy:  
She has lived to see the utmost day she wished for,  
Her Alcibiades return with Conquest  
O'er this ungrateful City; and but that  
I every day heard thou wert marching hither,  
I had been with thee long ere this.   Alcib. 
What gay, vain, prating thing is this?  Mel. 

How my Lord! do you question who Melissa is?  
And give her such foul Titles?   Alcib. 

I know Melissa, and therefore give her such  
Titles: for when the Senate banished me;  
She would not see me, tho' upon her knees  
Before she had sworn eternal love to me;  
I see thy snares too plain to be caught now.   Mel. 

I ne'er refused to see you, heaven can witness!  
Who ever told you so, betrayed me basely:  
Not see you! sure there's not a sight on earth  
I'd choose before you: You make me astonished!   Alcib. 

All this you swore to Timon; and next day  
Despised him— I have been informed  
Of all your falsehood, and I hate thee for't;  
I have Whores, good honest faithful Whores!  
Good Antidotes against thy poison— Love;  
Thy base false love; and tell me, is not one  
Kind, faithful, loving Whore, better than  
A thousand base, ill-natured honest Women?   Mel. 

I never thought I should have lived to hear  
This from my Alcibiades.   Alcib. 

Do not weep,  
Since I once liked thee, I'll do something for thee:  
I have a Corporal that has served me well,  
I will prefer you to him.   Mel. 

How have I merited this scorn— farewell,  
I'll never see you more.   [Exit. Alcib. 
I hope you will not.  Enter soldiers with drawn Swords, haling in Apemantus. 
How now! what means this violence?  1 Sould. 

My Lord! this snarling Villainous Philosopher,  
With open mouth railed at the Army;  
He said the General was a Villain: shall we  
Cut his throat?   Alcib. 

No! touch him not! unhand him!  
Why Apemantus didst thou call me Villain?   Apem 

I always speak my thoughts: not all  
The Swords o'th' Army bend against my throat  
Can fright me from the truth—   Alcib. 
Why, dost thou think I am one?  Apem. 

'Tis true, this base Town deserves thy scourge,  
And all the Terror and the punishment,  
Thou canst inflict upon it: the deed is good,  
But yet thou dost it ill; private revenge,  
Base passion, headstrong lust, incite thee to it;  
Had they not banished thee, thou wouldst have suffered  
Wrong still to prosper, and th' insulting Tyrants  
To thrive, swell and grow fat with their oppression,  
And wouldst have joined in them.   Alcib. 
Thou railest too much for a Philosopher.  Apem. 

Nay frown not, Lord, I fear thee not, nor love thee,  
All thy good parts thou drownest in vice and riot,  
In passion, and vainglory: how proud art thou  
Of all thy Conquests— when a poor rabble  
Of idle Rogues who else had been in Jails,  
Performed 'em for thee; How false is soldier's honour  
With Drums and Trumpets, and in the face of day  
With daring impudence Men go to murder  
Mankind— but in the greatest actions of their Lives  
The getting men, they sneak and hid themselves i' dark;  
I scorn your folly and your madness.   Alcib. 
Thou art a snarling Cur.  1 Sould. 
Shall I run him through?  Alcib. 
Hold.  Apem. 
I fear thee not.  Alcib. 

My ever honoured Socrates favoured thee,  
And for his sake I spare thee.   Apem. 

How much did Socrates lose his pains in thee!  
Hadst thou observed his principles, thou'dst been honest.   Enter Nicias, Thrafillus, Phaeax, Isidore, Isander, Aelius, and Cleon, with Halters about their necks. Nicias. 

We come my noble Lord at thy Command,  
And thus we humbly kneel before thy mercy.   Phae. 

Spare our lives, and we'll employ 'em in  
Thy service, worthy Alcibiades.   Alcib. 
Do you acknowledge you are ungrateful Knaves?  All. 
We do.  Alcib. 
And that you have used me basely.  All. 
We have, but we are very sorry.  Alcib. 

I should do well to hang you for the Death  
Of my brave Officer; but thousand such base lives  
As yours would not weigh with his! go, ye have  
Your liberty. And now the people are assembled,  
I will declare my intentions towards them.   [He ascends the Pulpit 

My Fellow Citizens! I will not now upbraid  
You for the unjust sentence passed upon me,  
In the return of which I have subdued  
Your Enemies and all revolted places,  
Made you Victorious both at Land and Sea,  
And have with continual toil and numberless dangers  
Stretched out the bounds of your Dominions far  
Above your hopes or expectations.  
I will not recount the many enterprises,  
No Grecian can be ignorant of. 'Tis enough  
You know how I have served you. Now it remains  
I farther should declare myself; I come  
First to free you good Citizens of Athens  
From the most insupportable yokes  
Of your four hundred Tyrants; and then next  
To claim my own Estate which has unjustly  
By them been kept from me that raised them.  
I do confess, I in revenge of your decree  
Against me, set up them, but never thought  
They would have been such Cursed Tyrants to you,  
Till now, they have gone on and filled the time  
With most licentious acts; making their wills,  
Their base corrupted wills, the scope of Justice,  
While you in vain groaned under all your sufferings.  
Thus when a few shall Lord it o'er the rest,  
They govern for themselves and not the People.  
They rob and pill from them, from thence t' increase  
Their private stores; but when the Government  
Is in the Body of the People, they  
Will do themselves no harm; therefore henceforth  
I do pronounce the Government shall devolve upon the  
People, and may heaven prosper 'em.   People shout and cry, Alcibiades! Alcibiades! Long live Alcibiades, Liberty, Liberty, etc. [Alcib. Descends. Enter Messenger. Mes. 

My noble Lord! I went as you commanded,  
And found Lord Timon dead, and his Evandra  
Stabbed, and just by him lying in his Tomb,  
On which was this Inscription.   Alcib. 
I'll read it.  

Here lies a wretched corpse, of wretched Soul bereft,  
Timon my name, a Plague consume you Caitiffs left.   

Poor Timon! I once knew thee the most flourishing man  
Of all th' Athenians, and thou still hadst been so,  
Had not these smiling, flattering Knaves devoured thee,  
And murdered thee with base ingratitude.  
His death pulled on the poor Evandra's too;  
That Miracle of Constancy in Love.  
Now all repair to their respective homes,  
Their several Trades, their bus'ness and diversions;  
And whilst I guard you from your active Foes,  
And fight your battles, be you secure at home.   

May Athens flourish with a lasting Peace;  
And may its wealth and power ever increase.  
All the People shout and cry, Alcibiades! Alcibiades! Liberty, Liberty, etc.    

Epilogue.  

IF there were hopes that ancient solid Wit  
Might please within our new fantastic Pit;  
This Play might then support the critics shock,  
This Scien grafted upon Shakespears stock;  
For joined with his our poet's part might thrive,  
Kept by the virtue of his sap alive.  
Though now no more substantial English plays,  
Than good old Hospitality you praise;  
The time shall come when true old sense shall rise  
In judgement over all your vanities.  
'Slight kickshaw Wit o'th' Stage, French meat at Feasts,  
Now daily tantalise the hungry Guests;  
While the old English Chine used to remain,  
And many hungry onsets would sustain.  
At these thin Feasts each Morsel's swallowed down,  
And every thing but the Guests stomach's gone.  
At these new fashioned Feasts you ' have but a taste,  
With Meat or Wit you scarce can break a Fast.  
This Jantee slightness to the French we own,  
And that makes all slight Wits admire 'em so.  
They're of one levelly, and with little pains  
The Frothy Poet good reception gains;  
But to hear English Wit there's use of brains.  
Though Sparks to imitate the French think fit  
In want of Learning, Affectation, Wit,  
And which is most, in clothes, we'll ne'er submit.  
Their Ships or Plays o'er ours shall ne'er advance,  
For our Third Rates shall match the First of France,  
With English Judges this may bear the Test,  
Who will for Shakespear's part forgive the rest.  
The Sparks judge but as they hear others say,  
They cannot think enough to mind the Play.  
They to catch Ladies (which they dress at) come,  
Or cause they cannot read or think at home;  
Each hear deux yeux and amorous looks imparts,  
levels Crevats and periwigs at Hearts;  
Yet they themselves more than the Lady's mind,  
And but for vanity would have 'em kind.  
No passion—  
But for their own Dear persons them can move,  
The admire themselves too much to be in Love.  
Nor Wit, nor Beauty, their hard Hearts can strike,  
Who only their own sense or persons like.  
But to the men of Wit our Poet flies,  
To save him from Wits mortal Enemies.  
Since for his Friends he has the best of those,  
Guarded by them he fears not little Foes.  
And with each Mistress we must favour find,  
They for Evandra's sake will sure be kind;  
At least all those to constant Love inclined.   
FINIS.