Woods and Cave near the Sea-shore. |
| |
Enter TIMON from the Cave. |
| Tim. O blessed breeding sun! draw from the earth |
| Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb |
| Infect the air! Twinn'd 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 grize of fortune |
| Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate |
| Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; |
| There's nothing level in our cursed natures |
| But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd |
| All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! |
| His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: |
| Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! [Digging. |
| Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate |
| With thy most operant poison! What is here? |
| Gold! yellow, glittering, precious gold! No, gods, |
| I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens! |
| Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, |
| Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. |
| Ha! you gods, why this? What this, you gods? Why, this |
| Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, |
| Pluck stout men's pillows from below their head: |
| This yellow slave |
| Will knit and breath religions; bless the accurs'd; |
| Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, |
| And give them title, knee, and approbation, |
| With senators on the bench; this is it |
| That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; |
| She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores |
| Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices |
| To the April day again. Come, damned earth, |
| Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds |
| Among the rout of nations, I will make thee |
| Do thy right nature.—[March afar off.] Ha! a drum? thou'rt quick, |
| But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, |
| When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand: |
| Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping some gold. |
| |
Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. |
| Alcib. What art thou there? speak. |
| Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, |
| For showing me again the eyes of man! |
| Alcib. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, |
| That art thyself a man? |
| Tim. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. |
| For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, |
| That I might love thee something. |
| Alcib. I know thee well, |
| But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. |
| Tim. I know thee too; and more than that I know thee |
| I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; |
| With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules; |
| Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; |
| Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine |
| Hath in her more destruction than thy sword |
| For all her cherubin look. |
| Phry. Thy lips rot off! |
| Tim. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns |
| To thine own lips again. |
| Alcib. How came the noble Timon to this change? |
| Tim. As the moon does, by wanting light to give: |
| But then renew I could not like the moon; |
| There were no suns to borrow of. |
| Alcib. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee? |
| Tim. None, but to maintain my opinion. |
| Alcib. What is it, Timon? |
| Tim. Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for thou art a man! |
| Alcib. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. |
| Tim. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. |
| Alcib. I see them now; then was a blessed time. |
| Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. |
| Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world |
| Voic'd so regardfully? |
| Tim. Art thou Timandra? |
| Timan. Yes. |
| Tim. Be a whore still; they love thee not that use thee; |
| Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. |
| Make use of thy salt hours; season the slaves |
| For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth |
| To the tub-fast and the diet. |
| Timan. Hang thee, monster! |
| Alcib. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits |
| Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. |
| I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, |
| The want whereof doth daily make revolt |
| In my penurious band: I have heard and griev'd |
| How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, |
| Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, |
| But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,— |
| Tim. I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. |
| Alcib. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. |
| Tim. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? |
| I had rather be alone. |
| Alcib. Why, fare thee well: |
| Here is some gold for thee. |
| Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it. |
| Alcib. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,— |
| Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? |
| Alcib. Ay, Timon, and have cause. |
| Tim. The gods confound them all in thy conquest; and |
| Thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! |
| Alcib. Why me, Timon? |
| Tim. That, by killing of villains, thou wast born to conquer |
| 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-vic'd city hang his poison |
| In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one. |
| Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; |
| He is 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 milkpaps, |
| That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, |
| Are not within the leaf of pity writ, |
| But 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 pronounc'd 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 giv'st me, |
| Not all thy counsel. |
| Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee! |
| Phr. 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: 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. 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, |
| 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. & 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 spok'st well of me. |
| Alcib. Call'st thou that harm? |
| Tim. Men daily find it. 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 unmeasurable, and infinite breast, |
| 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! O! a root; dear thanks: |
| Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas; |
| Where of in grateful 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 infected; |
| 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 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 gav'st 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 outliv'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 the 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? |
| Apem. 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; |
| 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, 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, proceeded |
| The sweet degrees that this brief world affords |
| To such as may the passive drudges of it |
| Freely command, thou wouldst 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 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! be gone! |
| 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. 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. |
| 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? |
| 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 meddlers 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 the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life; all thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation! |
| Apem. If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou mightst have hit upon it here; the commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts. |
| Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? |
| Apem. Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again. |
| Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. |
| Apem. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. |
| Tim. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! |
| Apem. A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse! |
| Tim. All villains that do stand by thee are pure. |
| Apem. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. |
| Tim. If I name thee. |
| I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. |
| Apem. I would my tongue could rot them off! |
| Tim. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! |
| Choler does kill me that thou art alive; |
| I swound to see thee. |
| Apem. Would thou wouldst burst! |
| Tim. Away, |
| Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose |
| A stone by thee. [Throws a stone at him. |
| Apem. Beast! |
| Tim. Slave! |
| Apem. Toad! |
| Tim. Rogue, rogue, rogue! |
| I am sick of this false world, and will love nought |
| But even the mere necessities upon 't. |
| Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; |
| Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat |
| Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, |
| That death in me at others' lives may laugh. [Looking on the gold. |
| O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce |
| 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler |
| Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! |
| Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, |
| Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow |
| That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, |
| That solder'st close impossibilities, |
| And mak'st them kiss! that speak st with every tongue, |
| To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! |
| Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue |
| Set them into confounding odds, that beasts |
| May have the world in empire. |
| Apem. Would 'twere so: |
| But not till I am dead; I'll say thou'st gold: |
| Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. |
| Tim. Throng'd to? |
| Apem. Ay. |
| Tim. Thy back, I prithee. |
| Apem. Live, and love thy misery! |
| Tim. Long live so, and so die! [Exit APEMANTUS. |
| I am quit. |
| More things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. |
| |
Enter Thieves. |
| First Thief. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy. |
| Sec. Thief. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. |
| Third Thief. Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not for 't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it? |
| Sec. Thief. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. |
| First Thief. Is not this he? |
| Thieves. Where? |
| Sec. Thief. 'Tis his description. |
| Third Thief. He; I know him. |
| All. Save thee, Timon. |
| Tim. Now, thieves? |
| All. Soldiers, not thieves. |
| Tim. Both too; and women's sons. |
| Thieves. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. |
| Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. |
| Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; |
| Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; |
| The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; |
| The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush |
| Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? |
| First Thief. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, |
| As beasts, and birds, and fishes. |
| Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; |
| You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con |
| That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not |
| In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft |
| In limited professions. Rascal thieves, |
| Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, |
| Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, |
| And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; |
| His antidotes are poison, and he slays |
| More than you rob: take wealth and lives together; |
| Do villany, do, since you protest to do 't, |
| Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery: |
| The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction |
| Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief, |
| And her pale fire she snatches from the sun; |
| The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves |
| The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief, |
| That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen |
| From general excrement, each thing's a thief; |
| The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power |
| Have uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away! |
| Rob one another. There's more gold: cut throats; |
| All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, |
| Break open shops; nothing can you steal |
| But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this |
| I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! |
| Amen. |
| Third Thief. He has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it. |
| First Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. |
| Sec. Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. |
| First Thief. Let us first see peace in Athens; there is no time so miserable but a man may be true. [Exeunt Thieves. |
| |
Enter FLAVIUS. |
| Flav. O you gods! |
| Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? |
| Full of decay and failing? O monument |
| And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! |
| What an alteration of honour |
| Has desperate want made! |
| What viler thing upon the earth than friends |
| Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! |
| How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, |
| When man was wish'd to love his enemies! |
| Grant I may ever love, and rather woo |
| Those that would mischief me than those that do! |
| He hath caught me in his eye: I will present |
| My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, |
| Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! |
| |
TIMON comes forward. |
| Tim. Away! what art thou? |
| Flav. Have you forgot me, sir? |
| Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; |
| Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. |
| Flav. An honest poor servant of yours. |
| Tim. Then I know thee not: |
| I never had an honest man about me; ay all |
| I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. |
| Flav. The gods are witness, |
| Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief |
| For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. |
| Tim. What! dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee, |
| Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st |
| Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give, |
| But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: |
| Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! |
| Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, |
| To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts |
| To entertain me as your steward still. |
| Tim. Had I a steward |
| So true, so just, and now so comfortable? |
| It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. |
| Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man |
| Was born of woman. |
| Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, |
| You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim |
| One honest man, mistake me not, but one; |
| No more, I pray, and he's a steward. |
| How fain would I have hated all mankind! |
| And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, |
| I fell with curses. |
| Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; |
| For, by oppressing and betraying me, |
| Thou mightst have sooner got another service: |
| For many so arrive at second masters |
| Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true,— |
| For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure,— |
| Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, |
| If not a usuring kindness and as rich men deal gifts, |
| Expecting in return twenty for one? |
| Flav. No, my most worthy master; in whose breast |
| Doubt and suspect, alas! are plac'd too late. |
| You should have fear'd false times when you did feast; |
| Suspect still comes when an estate is least. |
| That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, |
| Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, |
| Care of your food and living; and, believe it, |
| My most honour'd lord, |
| For any benefit that points to me, |
| Either in hope, or present, I'd exchange |
| For this one wish, that you had power and wealth |
| To requite me by making rich yourself. |
| Tim. Look thee, 'tis so. Thou singly honest man, |
| Here, take: the gods out of my misery, |
| Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; |
| But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; |
| Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, |
| But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, |
| Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs |
| What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, |
| Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like blasted woods, |
| And may diseases lick up their false bloods! |
| And so, farewell and thrive. |
| Flav. O! let me stay |
| And comfort you, my master. |
| Tim. If thou hatest |
| Curses, stay not; fly, whilst thou'rt bless'd and free: |
| Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. [Exeunt, severally. |
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