# The Complete Works of William Shakespeare ## Part 183 Book page: https://www.cyberlibrary.org/en/books/the-complete-works-of-william-shakespeare-100/index.md SEMPRONIUS. How? Have they denied him? Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him And does he send to me? Three? Humh! It shows but little love or judgment in him. Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, Thrive, give him over. Must I take th’ cure upon me? Has much disgraced me in’t. I’m angry at him, That might have known my place. I see no sense for’t But his occasions might have wooed me first; For, in my conscience, I was the first man That e’er received gift from him. And does he think so backwardly of me now That I’ll requite it last? No. So it may prove an argument of laughter To th’ rest, and I ’mongst lords be thought a fool. I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum Had sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake; I’d such a courage to do him good. But now return, And with their faint reply this answer join: Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. [_Exit._] SERVANT. Excellent! Your lordship’s a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic; he crossed himself by’t, and I cannot think but, in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms on fire. Of such a nature is his politic love. This was my lord’s best hope, now all are fled Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead, Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year must be employed Now to guard sure their master. And this is all a liberal course allows, Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. [_Exit._] SCENE IV. A hall in Timon’s house Enter two of Varro’s Servants meeting Titus and Hortensius and then Lucius, all Servants of Timon’s creditors, to wait for his coming out. FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. Well met, good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. TITUS. The like to you, kind Varro. HORTENSIUS. Lucius! What, do we meet together? LUCIUS. Ay, and I think One business does command us all; For mine is money. TITUS. So is theirs and ours. Enter Philotus. LUCIUS. And, sir, Philotus too! PHILOTUS. Good day at once. LUCIUS. Welcome, good brother. What do you think the hour? PHILOTUS. Labouring for nine. LUCIUS. So much? PHILOTUS. Is not my lord seen yet? LUCIUS. Not yet. PHILOTUS. I wonder on’t, he was wont to shine at seven. LUCIUS. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him. You must consider that a prodigal course Is like the sun’s, but not like his recoverable. I fear ’tis deepest winter in Lord Timon’s purse: That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet Find little. PHILOTUS. I am of your fear for that. TITUS. I’ll show you how t’ observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money? HORTENSIUS. Most true, he does. TITUS. And he wears jewels now of Timon’s gift, For which I wait for money. HORTENSIUS. It is against my heart. LUCIUS. Mark how strange it shows, Timon in this should pay more than he owes, And e’en as if your lord should wear rich jewels And send for money for ’em. HORTENSIUS. I’m weary of this charge, the gods can witness. I know my lord hath spent of Timon’s wealth, And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. Yes, mine’s three thousand crowns. What’s yours? LUCIUS. Five thousand mine. FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. ’Tis much deep, and it should seem by th’ sum Your master’s confidence was above mine, Else surely his had equalled. Enter Flaminius. TITUS. One of Lord Timon’s men. LUCIUS. Flaminius? Sir, a word. Pray, is my lord ready to come forth? FLAMINIUS. No, indeed he is not. TITUS. We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. FLAMINIUS. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent. [_Exit Flaminius._] Enter Flavius in a cloak, muffled. LUCIUS. Ha, is not that his steward muffled so? He goes away in a cloud. Call him, call him. TITUS. Do you hear, sir? SECOND VARRO’S SERVANT. By your leave, sir. FLAVIUS. What do you ask of me, my friend? TITUS. We wait for certain money here, sir. FLAVIUS. Ay, If money were as certain as your waiting, ’Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and bills When your false masters eat of my lord’s meat? Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts, And take down th’ interest into their gluttonous maws. You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up, Let me pass quietly. Believe’t, my lord and I have made an end, I have no more to reckon, he to spend. LUCIUS. Ay, but this answer will not serve. FLAVIUS. If ’twill not serve, ’tis not so base as you, For you serve knaves. [_Exit._] FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. How? What does his cashiered worship mutter? SECOND VARRO’S SERVANT. No matter what, he’s poor, and that’s revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings. Enter Servilius. TITUS. O, here’s Servilius; now we shall know some answer. SERVILIUS. If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from’t. For take’t of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him, he’s much out of health and keeps his chamber. LUCIUS. Many do keep their chambers are not sick. And if it be so far beyond his health, Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts And make a clear way to the gods. SERVILIUS. Good gods! TITUS. We cannot take this for answer, sir. FLAMINIUS. [_Within_.] Servilius, help! My lord, my lord! Enter Timon in a rage. TIMON. What, are my doors opposed against my passage? Have I been ever free, and must my house Be my retentive enemy, my jail? The place which I have feasted, does it now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? LUCIUS. Put in now, Titus. TITUS. My lord, here is my bill. LUCIUS. Here’s mine. HORTENSIUS. And mine, my lord. BOTH VARRO’S SERVANTS. And ours, my lord. PHILOTUS. All our bills. TIMON. Knock me down with ’em! Cleave me to the girdle. LUCIUS. Alas, my lord— TIMON. Cut my heart in sums! TITUS. Mine, fifty talents. TIMON. Tell out my blood. LUCIUS. Five thousand crowns, my lord. TIMON. Five thousand drops pays that. What yours, and yours? FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. My lord— SECOND VARRO’S SERVANT. My lord— TIMON. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! [_Exit._] HORTENSIUS. Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money. These debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em. [_Exeunt._] Enter Timon and Flavius. TIMON. They have e’en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors? Devils! FLAVIUS. My dear lord— TIMON. What if it should be so? FLAVIUS. My lord— TIMON. I’ll have it so.—My steward! FLAVIUS. Here, my lord. TIMON. So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius, all. I’ll once more feast the rascals. FLAVIUS. O my lord, You only speak from your distracted soul; There is not so much left to furnish out A moderate table. TIMON. Be it not in thy care. Go, I charge thee, invite them all. Let in the tide Of knaves once more. My cook and I’ll provide. [_Exeunt._] SCENE V. The same. The senate house Enter three Senators at one door, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants. FIRST SENATOR. My lord, you have my voice to ’t. The fault’s Bloody. ’Tis necessary he should die. Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. SECOND SENATOR. Most true, the law shall bruise ’em. ALCIBIADES. Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! FIRST SENATOR. Now, captain? ALCIBIADES. I am a humble suitor to your virtues, For pity is the virtue of the law, And none but tyrants use it cruelly. It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood Hath stepped into the law, which is past depth To those that without heed do plunge into’t. He is a man, setting his fate aside, Of comely virtues, Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice— An honour in him which buys out his fault— But with a noble fury and fair spirit, Seeing his reputation touched to death, He did oppose his foe; And with such sober and unnoted passion He did behave his anger, ere ’twas spent, As if he had but proved an argument. FIRST SENATOR. You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair. Your words have took such pains as if they laboured To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling Upon the head of valour, which indeed Is valour misbegot and came into the world When sects and factions were newly born. He’s truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne’er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger. If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, What folly ’tis to hazard life for ill! ALCIBIADES. My lord— FIRST SENATOR. You cannot make gross sins look clear. To revenge is no valour, but to bear. ALCIBIADES. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me If I speak like a captain. Why do fond men expose themselves to battle And not endure all threats? Sleep upon’t, And let the foes quietly cut their throats Without repugnancy? If there be Such valour in the bearing, what make we Abroad? Why, then, women are more valiant That stay at home, if bearing carry it, And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, As you are great, be pitifully good. Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? To kill, I grant, is sin’s extremest gust, But in defence, by mercy, ’tis most just. To be in anger is impiety, But who is man that is not angry? Weigh but the crime with this. SECOND SENATOR. You breathe in vain. ALCIBIADES. In vain? His service done At Lacedaemon and Byzantium Were a sufficient briber for his life. FIRST SENATOR. What’s that? ALCIBIADES. Why, I say, my lords, has done fair service And slain in fight many of your enemies. How full of valour did he bear himself In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! SECOND SENATOR. He has made too much plenty with ’em. He’s a sworn rioter. He has a sin That often drowns him and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no foes, that were enough To overcome him. In that beastly fury, He has been known to commit outrages And cherish factions. ’Tis inferred to us His days are foul and his drink dangerous. FIRST SENATOR. He dies. ALCIBIADES. Hard fate! He might have died in war. My lords, if not for any parts in him, Though his right arm might purchase his own time And be in debt to none, yet, more to move you, Take my deserts to his and join ’em both. And, for I know your reverend ages love Security, I’ll pawn my victories, all My honour, to you upon his good returns. If by this crime he owes the law his life, Why, let the war receive’t in valiant gore, For law is strict, and war is nothing more. FIRST SENATOR. We are for law. He dies. Urge it no more, On height of our displeasure. Friend or brother, He forfeits his own blood that spills another. ALCIBIADES. Must it be so? It must not be. My lords, I do beseech you, know me. SECOND SENATOR. How? ALCIBIADES. Call me to your remembrances. THIRD SENATOR. What? ALCIBIADES. I cannot think but your age has forgot me, It could not else be I should prove so base To sue and be denied such common grace. My wounds ache at you. FIRST SENATOR. Do you dare our anger? ’Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for ever. ALCIBIADES. Banish me? Banish your dotage, banish usury, That makes the Senate ugly. FIRST SENATOR. If, after two days’ shine, Athens contain thee, Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell our spirit, He shall be executed presently. [_Exeunt Senators._] ALCIBIADES. Now the gods keep you old enough, that you may live Only in bone, that none may look on you! I’m worse than mad. I have kept back their foes While they have told their money and let out Their coin upon large interest, I myself Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? Is this the balsam that the usuring senate Pours into captains’ wounds? Banishment. It comes not ill. I hate not to be banished. It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, That I may strike at Athens. I’ll cheer up My discontented troops and lay for hearts. ’Tis honour with most lands to be at odds. Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. [_Exit._] SCENE VI. A room of state in Timon’s house Music. Enter divers Friends at several doors. FIRST FRIEND. The good time of day to you, sir. SECOND FRIEND. I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord did but try us this other day. FIRST FRIEND. Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encountered. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. SECOND FRIEND. It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. FIRST FRIEND. I should think so. He hath sent me an earnest inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and I must needs appear. SECOND FRIEND. In like manner was I in debt to my importunate business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my provision was out. FIRST FRIEND. I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all things go. SECOND FRIEND. Every man here’s so. What would he have borrowed you? FIRST FRIEND. A thousand pieces. SECOND FRIEND. A thousand pieces! FIRST FRIEND. What of you? SECOND FRIEND. He sent to me, sir—here he comes. Enter Timon and Attendants. TIMON. With all my heart, gentlemen both! And how fare you? FIRST FRIEND. Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. SECOND FRIEND. The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship. TIMON. [_Aside_.] Nor more willingly leaves winter, such summer birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompense this long stay. Feast your ears with the music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o’ th’ trumpet’s sound; we shall to’t presently. FIRST FRIEND. I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship that I returned you an empty messenger. TIMON. O, sir, let it not trouble you. SECOND FRIEND. My noble lord— TIMON. Ah, my good friend, what cheer? SECOND FRIEND. My most honourable lord, I am e’en sick of shame that when your lordship this other day sent to me I was so unfortunate a beggar. TIMON. Think not on’t, sir. SECOND FRIEND. If you had sent but two hours before— TIMON. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. [_The banquet brought in._] Come, bring in all together. SECOND FRIEND. All covered dishes! FIRST FRIEND. Royal cheer, I warrant you. THIRD FRIEND. Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield it. FIRST FRIEND. How do you? What’s the news? THIRD FRIEND. Alcibiades is banished. Hear you of it? FIRST AND SECOND FRIENDS. Alcibiades banished? THIRD FRIEND. ’Tis so, be sure of it. FIRST FRIEND. How, how? SECOND FRIEND. I pray you, upon what? TIMON. My worthy friends, will you draw near? THIRD FRIEND. I’ll tell you more anon. Here’s a noble feast toward. SECOND FRIEND. This is the old man still. THIRD FRIEND. Will’t hold, will’t hold? SECOND FRIEND. It does, but time will—and so— THIRD FRIEND. I do conceive. TIMON. Each man to his stool with that spur as he would to the lip of his mistress. Your diet shall be in all places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place. Sit, sit. The gods require our thanks: You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts make yourselves praised, but reserve still to give, lest your deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that one need not lend to another; for, were your godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without a score of villains. If there sit twelve women at the table, let a dozen of them be as they are. The rest of your foes, O gods, the senators of Athens, together with the common lag of people, what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruction. For these my present friends, as they are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to nothing are they welcome. Uncover, dogs, and lap. [_The dishes are uncovered and prove to be full of lukewarm water._] SOME SPEAK. What does his lordship mean? SOME OTHER. I know not. TIMON. May you a better feast never behold, You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and lukewarm water Is your perfection. This is Timon’s last, Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villainy. [_Throws water in their faces._] Live loathed, and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time’s flies, Cap-and-knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! Of man and beast the infinite malady Crust you quite o’er! [_They stand_.] What, dost thou go? Soft! Take thy physic first; thou too, and thou! Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. [_He attacks them and forces them out._] What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast Whereat a villain’s not a welcome guest. Burn, house! Sink Athens! Henceforth hated be Of Timon man and all humanity! [_Exit._] Enter Timon’s Friends, the Senators with other Lords. FIRST FRIEND. How now, my lords? SECOND FRIEND. Know you the quality of Lord Timon’s fury? THIRD FRIEND. Push! Did you see my cap? FOURTH FRIEND. I have lost my gown. FIRST FRIEND. He’s but a mad lord, and nought but humours sways him. He gave me a jewel th’ other day, and now he has beat it out of my hat. Did you see my jewel? THIRD FRIEND. Did you see my cap? SECOND FRIEND. Here ’tis. FOURTH FRIEND. Here lies my gown. FIRST FRIEND. Let’s make no stay. SECOND FRIEND. Lord Timon’s mad. THIRD FRIEND. I feel’t upon my bones. FOURTH FRIEND. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. [_Exeunt._] ACT IV SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens Enter Timon. TIMON. Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools, Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench And minister in their steads! To general filths Convert, o’ th’ instant, green virginity, Do’t in your parents’ eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast; Rather than render back, out with your knives And cut your trusters’ throats! Bound servants, steal! Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed, Thy mistress is o’ th’ brothel. Son of sixteen, Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear, Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood, Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades, Degrees, observances, customs and laws, Decline to your confounding contraries, And let confusion live! Plagues incident to men, Your potent and infectious fevers heap On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt As lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty, Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, That ’gainst the stream of virtue they may strive And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, Sow all th’ Athenian bosoms, and their crop Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, That their society, as their friendship, may Be merely poison! Nothing I’ll bear from thee But nakedness, thou detestable town! Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! Timon will to the woods, where he shall find Th’ unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. The gods confound—hear me, you good gods all!— Th’ Athenians both within and out that wall, And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. [_Exit._] SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon’s house Enter Flavius with two or three Servants. FIRST SERVANT. Hear you, Master Steward, where’s our master? Are we undone, cast off, nothing remaining? FLAVIUS. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, I am as poor as you. FIRST SERVANT. Such a house broke? So noble a master fall’n? All gone, and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm And go along with him? SECOND SERVANT. As we do turn our backs From our companion, thrown into his grave, So his familiars to his buried fortunes Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, Like empty purses picked; and his poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all-shunned poverty, Walks, like contempt, alone.—More of our fellows. Enter other Servants. FLAVIUS. All broken implements of a ruined house. THIRD SERVANT. Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery. That see I by our faces. We are fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow. Leaked is our bark, And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, Hearing the surges threat. We must all part Into this sea of air. FLAVIUS. Good fellows all, The latest of my wealth I’ll share amongst you. Wherever we shall meet, for Timon’s sake Let’s yet be fellows. Let’s shake our heads and say, As ’twere a knell unto our master’s fortune, “We have seen better days.” Let each take some. [_Offering them money._] Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more. Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. [_They embrace and part several ways._] O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to misery and contempt? Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends? Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood When man’s worst sin is he does too much good! Who then dares to be half so kind again? For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. My dearest lord, blessed to be most accursed, Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord, He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seat Of monstrous friends; Nor has he with him to supply his life, Or that which can command it. I’ll follow and inquire him out. I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will. Whilst I have gold, I’ll be his steward still. [_Exit._] SCENE III. Woods and caves near the sea-shore Enter Timon in the woods. TIMON. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity, below thy sister’s orb Infect the air! Twinned brothers of one womb, Whose procreation, residence and birth Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes, The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune But by contempt of nature. Raise me this beggar, and deny’t that lord; The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar native honour. It is the pasture lards the rother’s sides, The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares In purity of manhood stand upright And say, “This man’s a flatterer”? If one be, So are they all, for every grece of fortune Is smoothed by that below. The learned pate Ducks to the golden fool. All’s obliquy. There’s nothing level in our cursed natures But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains. Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! [_Digs in the earth._]