SCENE I.-The same. Before Timon's Cave. Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON behind, unseen. Pain. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides. Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold? Pain. Certain Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him : he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'Tis said, he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. Pain. Nothing else you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore, 'tis not amiss, we tender our loves to him, in this supposed distress of his: it will shew honestly in us; and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travel for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having. Poet. What have you now to present unto him? Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece. Poet. I must serve him so too; tell him of an intent that's coming toward him. Pain. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the time; it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable performance is a kind of will, or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. Tim. Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself. Poet. I am thinking, what I shall say I have provided for him: It must be a personating of himself: a satire against the softness of prosperity; with a discovery of the infinite flatteries, that follow youth and opulency. Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. Poet. Nay, let's seek him: Then do we sin against our own estate, When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold, 'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the foam; Settlest admired reverence in a siave: To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye 'Fit 1 do meet them. [Advancing. I am sure, you have: speak truth: you are honest meu. Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend, nor I. Tim. Good honest men:-Thou draw'st a counterfeit Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best : Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain. So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so, sir, as I say:-And, for thy fiction, [To the Poet. Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth, That thou art even natural in thine art. But, for all this, my honest-natur'd friends, To make it known to us. Beseech your honour, Tim. Will you, indeed? Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord. Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave, That mightily deceives you. Both. Pain. I know none such, my lord. Nor I. Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in comEach man apart, all single and alone, [pany:Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. If where thou art, two villains shall not be, [To the Painter. Come not near him.--If thou would'st not reside [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon.Hence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye slaves: You have done work for me, there's payment: Hence You are an alchymist, make gold of that :- That-Timon cares not. But if he sark fair Athens O, forget What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. ? Sen. A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal Tim. 2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Therefore, Timon, Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; Thus,— If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad brain'd war; I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, But I do prize it at my love, before The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. And last so long enough! 1 Sen. 1 Sen. 2 Sen. And enter in our ears, like great triumphers In their applauding gates. Tim. Commend me to them; And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain [them In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. Sen. I like this well, he will return again. Tim. I have a tree, which grows here in my close, That mine own use invites me to cut down, And shortly must I fell it; Tell my friends, Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree, From high to low throughout, that whoso please To stop affliction, let him take his haste, Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, And hang himself:-I pray you, do my greeting. Flav. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall find him. Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Which once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come, And let my grave stone be your oracle.-Lips, let sour words go by, and language end: What is amiss, plague and infection mend! Graves, only be men's works; and death, their gain! Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Erit TIMON. 1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably Coupled to nature. 2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril. 1 Sen. It requires swift foot. [Exeunt SCENE III.-The Walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files As full as thy report. SCENE IV.-The Woods. Timon's Cave, and a Tomb-stone seen. Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON. Sold. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer?-What is this? l'imon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character Our captain hath in every figure skill; [Exit. SCENE V. Before the walls of Athens. Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES and Forces. Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach. [A parley sounded. Enter Senators on the walls. Noble and young, z Sen. So did we woo Transtorned Timon to our city's love, By humble message, and by promis'd means; We were not all unkind, nor all deserve The common stroke of war. 1 Sen. These walls of ours Were not erected by their hands, from whom 2 Sen. Nor are they living, Who were the motives that you first went out, 1 Sen. All have not offended; For those that were, it is not square, to take, 2 Sen 1 Sen. Set but thy foot 2 Sen. Throw thy glove; Alcib. Then there's my glove; The Senators descend, and open the gates. Sol. My noble general, Timon is dead; Alcib. [Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of [left! [Exeunt. THE play o Timon is a domestic tragedy, and therefore strongly fastens on the attention of the reader. In the plan there is The catastrophe affords a very powerfu. much art, br, the incidents are natural, and the characters various and exact. waring agai. that ostentatious liberality, which scatters bounty, but confers no benefits, and buys flattery, but not friendJOHNSON. ship- Cit. Resolved, resolved. from which he has taken many passages with only such slight alterations as were necessary to throw them into blank verse. The play comprehends a period of about four years, commencing with the secession to the Mons Sacer in the year of Rome 262, and ending with the death of Coriolanus, A. U. C. 266. 2 Cit. Consider you what services he has done for his country? 1 Cit. Very well; and could be content to give him good report for't, but that he pays himself with being proud. 2 Cit. Nay, but speak not maliciously. 1 Cit. I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did it to that end; though soft conscienc'd men can be content to say, it was for his country, he did it to please his mother, and to be partly proud; which he is, even to the altitude of his virtue. 2 Cit. What he cannot help in his nature, you account a vice in him: You must in no way say, he is rest were so! Men. What work's, my countrymen, in hand' Where go you With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you. 1 Cit. Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have had inkling, this fortnight, what we intend to do, which now we 'll shew 'em in deeds. They say, poor suitors have strong breaths; they shall know, we have strong arms too. Men. Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest Will you undo yourselves? [neighbours, 1 Cit. We cannot, sir, we are undone already. Men. I tell you, friends, most charitable care 1 Cit First you know, Caius Marcius is chief ene- Have the patricians of you. For your wants, my to the people. Cit. We know't, we know't. 1 Cit. Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. Is't a verdict? Cit. No more talking on't let it be done: away, away. 2 Cit. One word, good citizens. 1 Cit. We are accounted poor citizens; the patricians good: What authority surfeits on, would relieve us; If they would yield us but the superfluity, while it were wholesome, we might guess, they relieved us humanely; but they think, we are too dear: the leanness that afflicts us, the object of our misery, is an inventory to particularize their abundance; our sufferance is a gain to them.-Let us revenge this with our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know, I speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. 2 Cit. Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? Cit. Against him first; he's a very dog to the commonalty. Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well 1 Cit. Care for us!-True, indeed!-They ne'er cared for us yet. Suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich; and provide more piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain the poor If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us. Me. Either you must Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, 1 Cit. Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please you, deliver. Men. There was a time, when all the body's members I' the midst o' the body, idle and inactive, Like labour with the rest; where the other instruments 1 Cit. Well, sir, what answer made the belly? Men. Sir, I shall tell you.—With a kind of smile, Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus, (For, look you, I may make the belly smile, As well as speak,) it tauntingly replied To the discontented members, the mutinous parts 1 Cit. In this our fabric, if that they Men. What! What then? 'Fore me, this fellow speaks!-what then? what then? 1 Cit. Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, Who is the sink o' the body, Men. Well, what then? 1 Cit. The former agents, if they did complain, What could the belly answer? Men. I will tell you; If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little,) Patience, a while, you'll hear the belly's answer. 1 Cit. You are long about it. Men. Note me this, good friend; Even to the court, the heart,-to the seat o' the brain; 1 Cit. It was an answer: How apply you this? And no way from yourselves.-What do you think? You, the great toe of this assembly ?— 1 Cit. I the great toe? Why the great toe? But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs; Mar. Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, 1 Cit. We have ever your good word. Mar. He that will give good words to thee, will flatter Beneath abhorring.—What would you have, you curs, Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is, [ye? To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him, give out Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, Men. Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; Mar. They are dissolved: Hang 'em! They said, they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs ; That, hunger broke stone walls; that, dogs must eat; That, meat was made for mouths: that, the gods sent not |