Timon of Athens

 

By

 

William Shakespeare

 


CONTENTS:

 

ACT I 3

SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. 3

SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. 21

ACT II 34

SCENE I. A Senator's house. 34

SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. 36

ACT III 48

SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. 48

SCENE II. A public place. 51

SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. 55

SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. 57

SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. First Senator 65

SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. 70

ACT IV.. 77

SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. 77

SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. 79

SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. 81

ACT V.. 105

SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. 105

SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. 116

SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. 117

SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. 118

 


ACT I

SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house.

 

    Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors

 

Poet

 

    Good day, sir.

 

Painter

 

    I am glad you're well.

 

Poet

 

    I have not seen you long: how goes the world?

 

Painter

 

    It wears, sir, as it grows.

 

Poet

 

    Ay, that's well known:

    But what particular rarity? what strange,

    Which manifold record not matches? See,

    Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power

    Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.

 

Painter

 

    I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

 

Merchant

 

    O, 'tis a worthy lord.

 

Jeweller

 

    Nay, that's most fix'd.

 

Merchant

 

    A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,

    To an untirable and continuate goodness:

    He passes.

    Jeweller: I have a jewel here--

 

Merchant

 

    O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?

    Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--

 

Poet

 

    [Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have

    praised the vile,

    It stains the glory in that happy verse

    Which aptly sings the good.'

 

Merchant

 

    'Tis a good form.

 

    Looking at the jewel

 

Jeweller

 

    And rich: here is a water, look ye.

 

Painter

 

    You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication

    To the great lord.

 

Poet

 

    A thing slipp'd idly from me.

    Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes

    From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint

    Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame

    Provokes itself and like the current flies

    Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

 

Painter

 

    A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

 

Poet

 

    Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

    Let's see your piece.

 

Painter

 

    'Tis a good piece.

 

Poet

 

    So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

 

Painter

 

    Indifferent.

 

Poet

 

    Admirable: how this grace

    Speaks his own standing! what a mental power

    This eye shoots forth! how big imagination

    Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture

    One might interpret.

 

Painter

 

    It is a pretty mocking of the life.

    Here is a touch; is't good?

 

Poet

 

    I will say of it,

    It tutors nature: artificial strife

    Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

 

    Enter certain Senators, and pass over

 

Painter

 

    How this lord is follow'd!

 

Poet

 

    The senators of Athens: happy man!

 

Painter

 

    Look, more!

 

Poet

 

    You see this confluence, this great flood

    of visitors.

    I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,

    Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug

    With amplest entertainment: my free drift

    Halts not particularly, but moves itself

    In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice

    Infects one comma in the course I hold;

    But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,

    Leaving no tract behind.

 

Painter

 

    How shall I understand you?

 

Poet

 

    I will unbolt to you.

    You see how all conditions, how all minds,

    As well of glib and slippery creatures as

    Of grave and austere quality, tender down

    Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune

    Upon his good and gracious nature hanging

    Subdues and properties to his love and tendance

    All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer

    To Apemantus, that few things loves better

    Than to abhor himself: even he drops down

    The knee before him, and returns in peace

    Most rich in Timon's nod.

 

Painter

 

    I saw them speak together.

 

Poet

 

    Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill

    Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount

    Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,

    That labour on the bosom of this sphere

    To propagate their states: amongst them all,

    Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,

    One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,

    Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;

    Whose present grace to present slaves and servants

    Translates his rivals.

 

Painter

 

    'Tis conceived to scope.

    This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,

    With one man beckon'd from the rest below,

    Bowing his head against the sleepy mount

    To climb his happiness, would be well express'd

    In our condition.

 

Poet

 

    Nay, sir, but hear me on.

    All those which were his fellows but of late,

    Some better than his value, on the moment

    Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,

    Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

    Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him

    Drink the free air.

 

Painter

 

    Ay, marry, what of these?

 

Poet

 

    When Fortune in her shift and change of mood

    Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants

    Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top

    Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,

    Not one accompanying his declining foot.

 

Painter

 

    'Tis common:

    A thousand moral paintings I can show

    That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's

    More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well

    To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen

    The foot above the head.

 

    Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following

 

TIMON

 

    Imprison'd is he, say you?

 

Messenger

 

    Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt,

    His means most short, his creditors most strait:

    Your honourable letter he desires

    To those have shut him up; which failing,

    Periods his comfort.

 

TIMON

 

    Noble Ventidius! Well;

    I am not of that feather to shake off

    My friend when he must need me. I do know him

    A gentleman that well deserves a help:

    Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt,

    and free him.

 

Messenger

 

    Your lordship ever binds him.

 

TIMON

 

    Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;

    And being enfranchised, bid him come to me.

    'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

    But to support him after. Fare you well.

 

Messenger

 

    All happiness to your honour!

 

    Exit

 

    Enter an old Athenian

 

Old Athenian

 

    Lord Timon, hear me speak.

 

TIMON

 

    Freely, good father.

 

Old Athenian

 

    Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

 

TIMON

 

    I have so: what of him?

 

Old Athenian

 

    Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

 

TIMON

 

    Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

 

LUCILIUS

 

    Here, at your lordship's service.

 

Old Athenian

 

    This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,

    By night frequents my house. I am a man

    That from my first have been inclined to thrift;

    And my estate deserves an heir more raised

    Than one which holds a trencher.

 

TIMON

 

    Well; what further?

 

Old Athenian

 

    One only daughter have I, no kin else,

    On whom I may confer what I have got:

    The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,

    And I have bred her at my dearest cost

    In qualities of the best. This man of thine

    Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,

    Join with me to forbid him her resort;

    Myself have spoke in vain.

 

TIMON

 

    The man is honest.

 

Old Athenian

 

    Therefore he will be, Timon:

    His honesty rewards him in itself;

    It must not bear my daughter.

 

TIMON

 

    Does she love him?

 

Old Athenian

 

    She is young and apt:

    Our own precedent passions do instruct us

    What levity's in youth.

 

TIMON

 

    [To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid?

 

LUCILIUS

 

    Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

 

Old Athenian

 

    If in her marriage my consent be missing,

    I call the gods to witness, I will choose

    Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,

    And dispossess her all.

 

TIMON

 

    How shall she be endow'd,

    if she be mated with an equal husband?

 

Old Athenian

 

    Three talents on the present; in future, all.

 

TIMON

 

    This gentleman of mine hath served me long:

    To build his fortune I will strain a little,

    For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:

    What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,

    And make him weigh with her.

 

Old Athenian

 

    Most noble lord,

    Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

 

TIMON

 

    My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

 

LUCILIUS

 

    Humbly I thank your lordship: never may

    The state or fortune fall into my keeping,

    Which is not owed to you!

 

    Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian

 

Poet

 

    Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

 

TIMON

 

    I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:

    Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

 

Painter

 

    A piece of painting, which I do beseech

    Your lordship to accept.

 

TIMON

 

    Painting is welcome.

    The painting is almost the natural man;

    or since dishonour traffics with man's nature,

    He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are

    Even such as they give out. I like your work;

    And you shall find I like it: wait attendance

    Till you hear further from me.

 

Painter

 

    The gods preserve ye!

 

TIMON

 

    Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;

    We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel

    Hath suffer'd under praise.

 

Jeweller

 

    What, my lord! dispraise?

 

TIMON

 

    A more satiety of commendations.

    If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,

    It would unclew me quite.

 

Jeweller

 

    My lord, 'tis rated

    As those which sell would give: but you well know,

    Things of like value differing in the owners

    Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,

    You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

 

TIMON

 

    Well mock'd.

 

Merchant

 

    No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,

    Which all men speak with him.

 

TIMON

 

    Look, who comes here: will you be chid?

 

    Enter APEMANTUS

    Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship.

 

Merchant

 

    He'll spare none.

 

TIMON

 

    Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;

    When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

 

TIMON

 

    Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Are they not Athenians?

 

TIMON

 

    Yes.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Then I repent not.

    Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name.

 

TIMON

 

    Thou art proud, Apemantus.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

 

TIMON

 

    Whither art going?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

 

TIMON

 

    That's a deed thou'lt die for.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

 

TIMON

 

    How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    The best, for the innocence.

 

TIMON

 

    Wrought he not well that painted it?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    He wrought better that made the painter; and yet

    he's but a filthy piece of work.

 

Painter

 

    You're a dog.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

 

TIMON

 

    Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    No; I eat not lords.

 

TIMON

 

    An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

 

TIMON

 

    That's a lascivious apprehension.

 

APEMANTUS

 

    So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

 

TIMON

 

    How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

 

APEMANTUS

 

    Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a

    man a doit.