Timon of Athens

god’s gold,
That he is worshipp’d in a baser temple
Than where swine feed!
’Tis thou that rigg’st the bark and plough’st the foam,
Settlest admired reverence in a slave:
To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
Be crown’d with plagues that thee alone obey!
Fit I meet them. Coming forward. Poet Hail, worthy Timon! Painter Our late noble master! Timon Have I once lived to see two honest men? Poet

Sir,
Having often of your open bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retired, your friends fall’n off,
Whose thankless natures⁠—O abhorred spirits!⁠—
Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:
What! to you,
Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any size of words.

Timon

Let it go naked, men may see’t the better:
You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them best seen and known.

Painter

He and myself
Have travail’d in the great shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.

Timon Ay, you are honest men. Painter We are hither come to offer you our service. Timon

Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.

Both What we can do, we’ll do, to do you service. Timon

Ye’re honest men: ye’ve heard that I have gold;
I am sure you have: speak truth; ye’re honest men.

Painter

So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
Came not my friend nor I.

Timon

Good honest men! Thou draw’st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens: thou’rt, indeed, the best;
Thou counterfeit’st most lively.

Painter So, so, my lord. Timon

E’en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction,
Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
That thou art even natural in thine art.
But, for all this, my honest-natured friends,
I must needs say you have a little fault:
Marry, ’tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
You take much pains to mend.

Both

Beseech your honour
To make it known to us.

Timon You’ll take it ill. Both Most thankfully, my lord. Timon Will you, indeed? Both Doubt it not, worthy lord. Timon

There’s never a one of you but trusts a knave,
That mightily deceives you.

Both Do we, my lord? Timon

Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured
That he’s a made-up villain.

Painter I know none such, my lord. Poet Nor I. Timon

Look you, I love you well; I’ll give you gold,
Rid me these villains from your companies:
Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
Confound them by some course, and come to me,
I’ll give you gold enough.

Both Name them, my lord, let’s know them. Timon

You that way and you this, but two in company;
Each man apart, all single and alone,
Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
If where thou art two villains shall not be,
Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside
But where one villain is, then him abandon.
Hence, pack! there’s gold; you came for gold, ye slaves:
To Painter. You have work’d for me; there’s payment for you: hence!
To Poet. You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
Out, rascal dogs! Beats them out, and then retires to his cave.

Enter Flavius and two Senators. Flavius

It is in vain that you would speak with Timon;
For he is set so only to himself
That nothing but himself which looks like man
Is friendly with him.

First Senator

Bring us to his cave:
It is our part and promise to the Athenians
To speak with Timon.

Second Senator

At all times alike
Men are not still the same: ’twas time and griefs
That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
Offering the fortunes of his former days,
The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
And chance it as it may.

Flavius

Here is his cave.
Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians,
By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:
Speak to them, noble Timon.

Timon comes from his cave. Timon

Thou sun, that comfort’st, burn! Speak, and be hang’d:
For each true word, a blister! and each false
Be as cauterizing to the root o’ the tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

First Senator Worthy Timon⁠— Timon Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. First Senator The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. Timon

I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
Could I but catch it for them.

First Senator

O, forget
What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
The senators with one consent of love
Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

Second Senator

They confess
Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross:
Which now the public body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter, feeling in itself
A lack of Timon’s aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon;
And send forth us, to make their sorrow’d render,
Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Timon

You witch me in it;
Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool’s heart and a woman’s eyes,
And I’ll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

First Senator

Therefore, so please thee to return with us
And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
Allow’d with absolute power and thy good name
Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country’s peace.

Second Senator

And shakes his threatening sword
Against the walls of Athens.

First Senator Therefore, Timon⁠— Timon

Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus:
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
Giving our holy virgins to the stain
Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain’d war,
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
In pity of our aged and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell