dues.
Timon |
Dues! Whence are you? |
Caphis |
Of Athens here, my lord. |
Timon |
Go to my steward. |
Caphis |
Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days this month:
My master is awaked by great occasion
To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
That with your other noble parts you’ll suit
In giving him his right.
|
Timon |
Mine honest friend,
I prithee, but repair to me next morning.
|
Caphis |
Nay, good my lord— |
Timon |
Contain thyself, good friend. |
Varro’s Servant |
One Varro’s servant, my good lord— |
Isidore’s Servant |
From Isidore;
He humbly prays your speedy payment.
|
Caphis |
If you did know, my lord, my master’s wants— |
Varro’s Servant |
’Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks
And past.
|
Isidore’s Servant |
Your steward puts me off, my lord;
And I am sent expressly to your lordship.
|
Timon |
Give me breath.
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
I’ll wait upon you instantly. Exeunt Alcibiades and Lords.
To Flavius. Come hither: pray you,
How goes the world, that I am thus encounter’d
With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?
|
Flavius |
Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business:
Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
That I may make his lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.
|
Timon |
Do so, my friends. See them well entertain’d. Exit. |
Flavius |
Pray, draw near. Exit. |
|
Enter Apemantus and Fool. |
Caphis |
Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: let’s ha’ some sport with ’em. |
Varro’s Servant |
Hang him, he’ll abuse us. |
Isidore’s Servant |
A plague upon him, dog! |
Varro’s Servant |
How dost, fool? |
Apemantus |
Dost dialogue with thy shadow? |
Varro’s Servant |
I speak not to thee. |
Apemantus |
No, ’tis to thyself. To the Fool. Come away. |
Isidore’s Servant |
There’s the fool hangs on your back already. |
Apemantus |
No, thou stand’st single, thou’rt not on him yet. |
Caphis |
Where’s the fool now? |
Apemantus |
He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and usurers’ men! bawds between gold and want! |
All Servants |
What are we, Apemantus? |
Apemantus |
Asses. |
All Servants |
Why? |
Apemantus |
That you ask me what you are, and do not know yourselves. Speak to ’em, fool. |
Fool |
How do you, gentlemen? |
All Servants |
Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? |
Fool |
She’s e’en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! |
Apemantus |
Good! gramercy. |
|
Enter Page. |
Fool |
Look you, here comes my mistress’ page. |
Page |
To the Fool. Why, how now, captain! what do you in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? |
Apemantus |
Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably. |
Page |
Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these letters: I know not which is which. |
Apemantus |
Canst not read? |
Page |
No. |
Apemantus |
There will little learning die then, that day thou art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou’t die a bawd. |
Page |
Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a dog’s death. Answer not; I am gone. Exit. |
Apemantus |
E’en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon’s. |
Fool |
Will you leave me there? |
Apemantus |
If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? |
All Servants |
Ay; would they served us! |
Apemantus |
So would I—as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. |
Fool |
Are you three usurers’ men? |
All Servants |
Ay, fool. |
Fool |
I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and go away merry; but they enter my mistress’ house merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? |
Varro’s Servant |
I could render one. |
Apemantus |
Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a knave; which notwithstanding, thou shalt be no less esteemed. |
Varro’s Servant |
What is a whoremaster, fool? |
Fool |
A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. ’Tis a spirit: sometime’t appears like a lord; sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, with two stones moe than’s artificial one: he is very often like a knight; and, generally, in all shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in. |
Varro’s Servant |
Thou art not altogether a fool. |
Fool |
Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lackest. |
Apemantus |
That answer might have become Apemantus. |
All Servants |
Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. |
|
Re-enter Timon and Flavius. |
Apemantus |
Come with me, fool, come. |
Fool |
I do not always follow lover, elder brother and woman; sometime the philosopher. Exeunt Apemantus and Fool. |
Flavius |
Pray you, walk near: I’ll speak with you anon. Exeunt Servants. |
Timon |
You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time
Had you not fully laid my state before me,
That I might so have rated my expense,
As I had leave of means?
|
Flavius |
You would not hear me,
At many leisures I proposed.
|
Timon |
Go to:
Perchance some single vantages you took,
When my indisposition put you back;
And that unaptness made your minister,
Thus to excuse yourself.
|
Flavius |
O my good lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine honesty.
When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;
Yea, ’gainst the authority of manners, pray’d you
To hold your hand more close: I did endure
Not seldom, nor no slight checks, when I have
Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
Though you hear now, too late—yet now’s a time—
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.
|
Timon |
Let all my land be sold. |
Flavius |
’Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone;
And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues: the future comes apace:
What shall defend the interim? and at length
How goes our reckoning?
|
Timon |
To Lacedaemon did my land extend. |
Flavius |
O my good lord, the world is but a word:
Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone!
|
Timon |
You tell me true. |
Flavius |
If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,
Call me before the
|