My country.

Put up thy gold; Go on,-here's gold,-go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove

Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison
In the sick air: Let not thy sword skip one;
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He's a usurer: Strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,

Herself's a bawd: Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,

Set them down horrible traitors: Spare not the babe,
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
Think it a bastard,* whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse:+ Swear against objects;
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers;
Make large confusion: and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

Alcib. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou givest me, Not all thy counsel.

Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee! Phr. and Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon: Hast thou more?

Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable,—
Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear,
Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues,
The immortal gods that hear you,-spare your oaths,
I'll trust to your conditions: 8 Be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,

And be no turncoats: Yet may your pains, six months,
Be quite contrary: And thatch your poor thin roofs
With burdens of the dead;-
;-some that were hang'd,
No matter wear them, betray with them: whore still;
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face:

A pox of wrinkles!

Phr. and Timan. Well, more gold;-What then ?Believe't, that we'll do anything for gold.

Tim. Consumptions sow

In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,

And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,

That he may never more false title plead,

* An allusion to the tale of Œdipus.

I. e. against objects of charity and compassion.
Vocation.

+ Without pity.

Nor sound his quillets* shrilly: hoar the flamen
That scolds against the quality of flesh,

And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away

Of him, that his particular to foresee,

Smells from the general weal: make curl'd pate ruffians bald;
And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you: Plague all;

That your activity may defeat and quell

The source of all erection.-There's more gold:

Do you damn others, and let this damn you,

And ditches grave you all!

Phr. and Timan. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

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

Alcib. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon. If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

Alcib. I never did thee harm.

Tim. Yes, thou spokest 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.

[Digging.

[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA. Tim. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry!-Common mother, thou, Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,t 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, With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, From forth thy plenteous bosom one poor root! Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above Never presented!-0, a root,-Dear thanks! Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts, And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips!

Enter APEMANTUS.

More man? Plague! plague!

* Subtilties.

+ Boundless surface.

+ Bent.

Apem. I was directed hither: Men report,
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!
Apem. This is in thee a nature but affected;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung

*

From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit ? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.†
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou❜lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus;
Thou gavest thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome,
To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just,
That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,
Rascals should have'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;
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 outlived the eagle, page thy heels,

And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,

To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? call the creatures,-
Whose naked natures live in all the spite

Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,

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?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. What! a knave too?

Apem. If thou didst put this sour cold habit on
To casticate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery

* I. e. their diseased perfumed mistresses.

† I. e. cynic.

Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before:*
The one is filling still, never complete;

The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst,t content.

Thou shouldst 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, I proceeded
The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs § of it

Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never 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; T
That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows;-I, to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burden:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time

Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
They never 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
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! begone!
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.
Apem. Art thou proud yet?

Tim. Ay, that I am not thee.
Apem. I, that I was

No prodigal.

Tim. 1, 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 mine 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 wouldst thou have to Athens ?

* Arrives sooner at the completion of its wishes.

† (That has).

Cautions prudence.

From infancy.
¶ (For).

§ Drudges.

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 liest 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!
Apem. Where wouldst thou send it?

Tim. To sauce thy dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity;* in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it.

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.
Apem. Dost hate a medlar?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. An thou hadst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now.

What man didst thou ever know

unthrift, that was beloved after his means?

Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved?

Apem. Myself.

Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog. Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim. Women nearest: but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem. Ay, Timon.

Tim. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee: if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee: if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accused by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee: and still thou livedst but as a breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury:† wert thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and * Finical delicacy.

†The old idea was, that the lion, when he encountered a unicorn, posted himself against a tree, and that the unicorn, rushing against him with blind fury, and striking his horn into the tree, thus left himself an easy prey to his adversary.