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Alcib. Strike

up

the drum towards Athens. Fare.

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

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

Call'st thou that harm?
Tim. Men daily find it such. Get thee away,
And take thy beagles with thee.
Alcib,

We but offend him.-Strike.

[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES,

PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA. Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry!-Common mother, thou,

[Digging Whose womb unmeasureable, and infinite breast, 2 Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, Engenders the black toad, and adder blue, The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm, 3 With all the abhorred births below crisp 4 heaven Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, From forth thy plenteous bosom one poor root! Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above Never presented !-0, a root,-Dear thanks!

2 Boundless surface. 3 The serpent called the blind-worm.

4 Bent.

Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts, And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips !

Enter APEMANTUS. More man? Plague! plague!

Apem. I was directed hither: Men report, Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!

Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected; A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade ? this place? This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk; drink wine, lie soft; Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou flatterer now, and seek to thrive By that which has undone thee : hinge thy knee, And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, And call it excellent : Thou wast told thus; Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome, To knaves, and all approachers : 'Tis most just, That thou turn rascal; had'st thou wealth again, Rascals should hav't. Do not assume my likeness.

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

0 2
si... Their diseased perfumed mistresses.
ói,eShame not these woods by finding fault.

6

A madman so long, now a fool: What, think’st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moss’d trees,
That have outliy'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold

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

A fool of thee: Depart.
Apem. I love thee better now than e'er I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Apem,

Why?
Tim.

Thou flatter'st misery. Apem. I flatter not; but say, thou art a caitiff. Tim. Why dost thou seek me out? Apem.

To vex thee. Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's. Dost please thyself in't? Арет.

Ay. Tim.

What! a knave too. Apem. If thou didst put this sour cold habit on To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou Dost it enforcedly; thou’dst courtier be again, Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before:7 The one is filling still, never complete;

71. c. Arrives sooner at the completion of its wishes.

The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.

Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath, proceeded
The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, thou would'st have plung'd thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds, of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect,' but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,
At duty, more than I could frame employment;
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For

every storm that blows ;-I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden :
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st thou hate

men ?
They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse,—thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
To some she beggar, and compounded thee

8 By his voice, sentence.

9 From infancy. 1 The cold admonitions of cautious prudence.

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Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone!-
If thou hadst not been born the worst of

men,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.
Apen.

Art thou proud yet? Tim. Ay, that I am not thee. Apem.

I, that I was
No prodigal.

Tim. I, that I am one now;
Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.-
That the whole life of Athens were in this !
Thus would I eat it.

[Eating a root. Apem.

Here; I will mend thy feast.

[Offering him something. Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mino own, by the lack of

thine. Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; If not, I would it were.

Apem. What would'st thou have to Athens ?

Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

Apem. Here is no use for gold.
Tim.

The best, and truest: For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apem. Where ly'st o'nights, Timon?
Tim,

Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o'days, Apemantus ?

Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

Tim. 'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!

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