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Author: William Shakespeare
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Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)

Enter Timon in the woods.
Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe
1605Infect the ayre. Twin'd Brothers of one wombe,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarse is diuidant; touch them with seuerall fortunes,
The greater scornes the lesser. Not Nature
(To whom all sores lay siege) can beare great Fortune
1610But by contempt of Nature.
Raise me this Begger, and deny't that Lord,
The Senators shall beare contempt Hereditary,
The Begger Natiue Honor.
It is the Pastour Lards, the Brothers sides,
1615The want that makes him leaue: who dares? who dares
In puritie of Manhood stand vpright
And say, this mans a Flatterer. If one be,
So are they all: for euerie grize of Fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The Learned pate
1620Duckes to the Golden Foole. All's obliquie:
There's nothing leuell in our cursed Natures
But direct villanie. Therefore be abhorr'd,
All Feasts, Societies, and Throngs of men.
His semblable, yea himselfe Timon disdaines,
1625Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes,
Who seekes for better of thee, sawce his pallate
With thy most operant Poyson. What is heere?
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
No Gods, I am no idle Votarist,
1630Roots you cleere Heauens. Thus much of this will make
Blacke, white; fowle, faire; wrong, right;
Base, Noble; Old, young; Coward, valiant.
Ha you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why this
Will lugge your Priests and Seruants from your sides:
1635Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads.
This yellow Slaue,
Will knit and breake Religions, blesse th' accurst,
Make the hoare Leprosie ador'd, place Theeues,
And giue them Title, knee, and approbation
1640With Senators on the Bench: This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe;
Shee, whom the Spittle-house, and vlcerous sores,
Would cast the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices
To'th' Aprill day againe. Come damn'd Earth,
1645Thou common whore of Mankinde, that puttes oddes
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee
Do thy right Nature.
March afarre off.
Ha? A Drumme? Th'art quicke,
But yet Ile bury thee: Thou't go (strong Theefe)
1650When Gowty keepers of thee cannot stand:
Nay stay thou out for earnest.
Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fife in warlike manner,
and Phrynia and Timandra.
Alc. What art thou there? speake.
1655Tim. A Beast as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy hart
For shewing me againe the eyes of Man.
Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hatefull to thee,
That art thy selfe a Man?
Tim. I am Misantropos, and hate Mankinde.
1660For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dogge,
That I might loue thee something.
Alc. I know thee well:
But in thy Fortunes am vnlearn'd, and strange.
Tim. I know thee too, and more then that I know thee
1665I not desire to know. Follow thy Drumme,
With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules:
Religious Cannons, ciuill Lawes are cruell,
Then what should warre be? This fell whore of thine,
Hath in her more destruction then thy Sword,
1670For all her Cherubin looke.
Phrin. Thy lips rot off.
Tim. I will not kisse thee, then the rot returnes
To thine owne lippes againe.
Alc. How came the Noble Timon to this change?
1675Tim. As the Moone do's, by wanting light to giue:
But then renew I could not like the Moone,
There were no Sunnes to borrow of.
Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?
Tim. None, but to maintaine my opinion.
1680Alc. What is it Timon?
Tim. Promise me Friendship, but performe none.
If thou wilt not promise, the Gods plague thee, for thou
art a man: if thou do'st performe, confound thee, for
thou art a man.
1685Alc. I haue heard in some sort of thy Miseries.
Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperitie.
Alc. I see them now, then was a blessed time.
Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots.
Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world
1690Voic'd so regardfully?
Tim. Art thou Timandra?
Timandra. Yes.
Tim. Be a whore still, they loue thee not that vse thee,
giue them diseases, leauing with thee their Lust. Make
vse of thy salt houres, season the slaues for Tubbes and
1695Bathes, bring downe Rose-cheekt youth to the Fubfast,
and the Diet.
Timan. Hang thee Monster.
Alc. Pardon him sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his Calamities.
1700I haue but little Gold of late, braue Timon,
The want whereof, doth dayly make reuolt
In my penurious Band. I haue heard and greeu'd
How cursed Athens, mindelesse of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when Neighbour states
1705But for thy Sword and Fortune trod vpon them.
Tim. I prythee beate thy Drum, and get thee gone.
Alc. I am thy Friend, and pitty thee deere Timon.
Tim. How doest thou pitty him whom yu dost troble,
I had rather be alone.
1710Alc. Why fare thee well:
Heere is some Gold for thee.
Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eate it.
Alc. When I haue laid proud Athens on a heape.
Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens.
1715Alc. I Timon, and haue cause.
Tim. The Gods confound them all in thy Conquest,
And thee after, when thou hast Conquer'd.
Alc. Why me, Timon?
Tim. That by killing of Villaines
1720Thou was't borne to conquer my Country.
Put vp thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, go on;
Be as a Plannetary plague, when Ioue
Will o're some high-Vic'd City, hang his poyson
In the sicke ayre: let not thy sword skip one:
1725Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard,
He is an Vsurer. Strike me the counterfet Matron,
It is her habite onely, that is honest,
Her selfe's a Bawd. Let not the Virgins cheeke
Make soft thy trenchant Sword: for those Milke pappes
1730That through the window Barne bore at mens eyes,
Are not within the Leafe of pitty writ,
But set them down horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe
Whose dimpled smiles from Fooles exhaust their mercy;
Thinke it a Bastard, whom the Oracle
1735Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse. Sweare against Obiects,
Put Armour on thine eares, and on thine eyes,
Whose proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes,
Nor sight of Priests in holy Vestments bleeding,
1740Shall pierce a iot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers,
Make large confusion: and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thy selfe. Speake not, be gone.
Alc. Hast thou Gold yet, Ile take the Gold thou gi-
uest me, not all thy Counsell.
1745Tim. Dost thou or dost thou not, Heauens curse vpon
Both. Giue vs some Gold good Timon, hast yu more?
Tim. Enough to make a Whore forsweare her Trade,
And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold vp you Sluts
1750Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable,
Although I know you'l sweare, terribly sweare
Into strong shudders, and to heauenly Agues
Th'immortall Gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes:
Ile trust to your Conditions, be whores still.
1755And he whose pious breath seekes to conuert you,
Be strong in Whore, allure him, burne him vp,
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turne-coats: yet may your paines six months
Be quite contrary, And Thatch
1760Your poore thin Roofes with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter:
Weare them, betray with them; Whore still,
Paint till a horse may myre vpon your face:
A pox of wrinkles.
1765Both. Well, more Gold, what then?
Beleeue't that wee'l do any thing for Gold.
Tim. Consumptions sowe
In hollow bones of man, strike their sharpe shinnes,
And marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce,
1770That he may neuer more false Title pleade,
Nor sound his Quillets shrilly: Hoare the Flamen,
That scold'st against the quality of flesh,
And not beleeues himselfe. Downe with the Nose,
Downe with it flat, take the Bridge quite away
1775Of him, that his particular to foresee
Smels from the generall weale. Make curl'd pate Ruffians
And let the vnscarr'd Braggerts of the Warre
Deriue some paine from you. Plague all,
That your Actiuity may defeate and quell
1780The sourse of all Erection. There's more Gold.
Do you damne others, and let this damne you,
And ditches graue you all.
Both. More counsell with more Money, bounteous
1785Tim. More whore, more Mischeefe first, I haue gi-
uen you earnest.
Alc. Strike vp the Drum towardes Athens, farewell
Timon: if I thriue well, Ile visit thee againe.
Tim. If I hope well, Ile neuer see thee more.
1790Alc. I neuer did thee harme.
Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
Alc. Call'st thou that harme?
Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away,
And take thy Beagles with thee.
1795Alc. We but offend him, strike.
Tim. That Nature being sicke of mans vnkindnesse
Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou
Whose wombe vnmeasureable, and infinite brest
Teemes and feeds all: whose selfesame Mettle
1800Whereof thy proud Childe (arrogant man) is puft,
Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew,
The gilded Newt, and eyelesse venom'd Worme,
With all th' abhorred Births below Crispe Heauen,
Whereon Hyperions quickning fire doth shine:
1805Yeeld him, who all the humane Sonnes do hate,
From foorth thy plenteous bosome, one poore roote:
Enseare thy Fertile and Conceptious wombe,
Let it no more bring out ingratefull man.
Goe great with Tygers, Dragons, Wolues, and Beares,
1810Teeme with new Monsters, whom thy vpward face
Hath to the Marbled Mansion all aboue
Neuer presented. O, a Root, deare thankes:
Dry vp thy Marrowes, Vines, and Plough-torne Leas,
Whereof ingratefull man with Licourish draughts
1815And Morsels Vnctious, greases his pure minde,
That from it all Consideration slippes---
Enter Apemantus.
More man? Plague, plague.
Ape. I was directed hither. Men report,
1820Thou dost affect my Manners, and dost vse them.
Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keepe a dogge
Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee.
Ape. This is in thee a Nature but infected,
A poore vnmanly Melancholly sprung
1825From change of future. Why this Spade? this place?
This Slaue-like Habit, and these lookes of Care?
Thy Flatterers yet weare Silke, drinke Wine, lye soft,
Hugge their diseas'd Perfumes, and haue forgot
That euer Timon was. Shame not these Woods,
1830By putting on the cunning of a Carper.
Be thou a Flatterer now, and seeke to thriue
By that which ha's vndone thee; hindge thy knee,
And let his very breath whom thou'lt obserue
Blow off thy Cap: praise his most vicious straine,
1835And call it excellent: thou wast told thus:
Thou gau'st thine eares (like Tapsters, that bad welcom)
To Knaues, and all approachers: 'Tis most iust
That thou turne Rascall, had'st thou wealth againe,
Rascals should haue't. Do not assume my likenesse.
1840Tim. Were I like thee, I'de throw away my selfe.
Ape. Thou hast cast away thy selfe, being like thy self
A Madman so long, now a Foole: what think'st
That the bleake ayre, thy boysterous Chamberlaine
Will put thy shirt on warme? Will these moyst Trees,
1845That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brooke
Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste
To cure thy o're-nights surfet? Call the Creatures,
Whose naked Natures liue in all the spight
1850Of wrekefull Heauen, whose bare vnhoused Trunkes,
To the conflicting Elements expos'd
Answer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee.
O thou shalt finde.
Tim. A Foole of thee: depart.
1855Ape. I loue thee better now, then ere I did.
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Ape. Why?
Tim. Thou flatter'st misery.
Ape. I flatter not, but say thou art a Caytiffe.
1860Tim. Why do'st thou seeke me out?
Ape. To vex thee.
Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles.
Dost please thy selfe in't?
Ape. I.
1865Tim. What, a Knaue too?
Ape. If thou did'st put this sowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly: Thou'dst Courtier be againe
Wert thou not Beggar: willing misery
1870Out-liues: incertaine pompe, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, neuer compleat:
The other, at high wish: best state Contentlesse,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse then the worst, Content.
1875Thou should'st desire to dye, being miserable.
Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme
With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge.
Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded,
1880The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords,
To such as may the passiue drugges of it
Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self
In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth
In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd
1885The Icie precepts of respect, but followed
The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe,
Who had the world as my Confectionarie,
The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,
At duty more then I could frame employment;
1890That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues
Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush
Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare,
For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this,
That neuer knew but better, is some burthen:
1895Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st yu hate Men?
They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen?
If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge)
Must be thy subiect; who in spight put stuffe
1900To some shee-Begger, and compounded thee
Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone,
If thou hadst not bene borne the worst of men,
Thou hadst bene a Knaue and Flatterer.
Ape. Art thou proud yet?
1905Tim. I, that I am not thee.
Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall.
Tim. I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I haue shut vp in thee,
I'ld giue thee leaue to hang it. Get thee gone:
1910That the whole life of Athens were in this,
Thus would I eate it.
Ape. Heere, I will mend thy Feast.
Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy selfe.
Ape. So I shall mend mine owne, by'th' lacke of thine
1915Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht;
If not, I would it were.
Ape. What would'st thou haue to Athens?
Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt,
Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue.
1920Ape. Heere is no vse for Gold.
Tim. The best, and truest:
For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme.
Ape. Where lyest a nights Timon?
Tim. Vnder that's aboue me.
1925Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus?
Ape. Where my stomacke findes meate, or rather
where I eate it.
Tim. Would poyson were obedient, & knew my mind
Ape. Where would'st thou send it?
1930Tim. To sawce thy dishes.
Ape. The middle of Humanity thou neuer knewest,
but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy
Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much
Curiositie: in thy Ragges thou know'st none, but art de-
1935spis'd for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it.
Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.
Ape. Do'st hate a Medler?
Tim. I, though it looke like thee.
Ape. And th'hadst hated Medlers sooner, yu should'st
1940haue loued thy selfe better now. What man didd'st thou
euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes?
Tim. Who without those meanes thou talk'st of, didst
thou euer know belou'd?
Ape. My selfe.
1945Tim. I vnderstand thee: thou had'st some meanes to
keepe a Dogge.
Apem. What things in the world canst thou neerest
compare to thy Flatterers?
Tim. Women neerest, but men: men are the things
1950themselues. What would'st thou do with the world A-
pemantus, if it lay in thy power?
Ape. Giue it the Beasts, to be rid of the men.
Tim. Would'st thou haue thy selfe fall in the confu-
sion of men, and remaine a Beast with the Beasts.
1955Ape. I Timon.
Tim. A beastly Ambition, which the Goddes graunt
thee t'attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
beguile thee. if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would
eate thee: if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would suspect
1960thee, when peraduenture thou wert accus'd by the Asse:
If thou wert the Asse, thy dulnesse would torment thee;
and still thou liu'dst but as a Breakefast to the Wolfe. If
thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedinesse would afflict thee,
& oft thou should'st hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert
1965thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound
thee, and make thine owne selfe the conquest of thy fury.
Wert thou a Beare, thou would'st be kill'd by the Horse:
wert thou a Horse, thou would'st be seaz'd by the Leo-
pard: wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the
1970Lion, and the spottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy
life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence ab-
sence. What Beast could'st thou bee, that were not sub-
iect to a Beast: and what a Beast art thou already, that
seest not thy losse in transformation.
1975Ape. If thou could'st please me
With speaking to me, thou might'st
Haue hit vpon it heere.
The Commonwealth of Athens, is become
A Forrest of Beasts.
1980Tim. How ha's the Asse broke the wall, that thou art
out of the Citie.
Ape. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter:
The plague of Company light vpon thee:
I will feare to catch it, and giue way.
1985When I know not what else to do,
Ile see thee againe.
Tim. When there is nothing liuing but thee,
Thou shalt be welcome.
I had rather be a Beggers Dogge,
1990Then Apemantus.
Ape. Thou art the Cap
Of all the Fooles aliue.
Tim. Would thou wert cleane enough
To spit vpon.
1995Ape. A plague on thee,
Thou art too bad to curse.
Tim. All Villaines
That do stand by thee, are pure.
Ape. There is no Leprosie,
2000But what thou speak'st.
Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee;
But I should infect my hands.
Ape. I would my tongue
Could rot them off.
2005Tim. Away thou issue of a mangie dogge,
Choller does kill me,
That thou art aliue, I swoond to see thee.
Ape. Would thou would'st burst.
Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am sorry I shall
2010lose a stone by thee.
Ape. Beast.
Tim. Slaue.
Ape. Toad.
Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.
2015I am sicke of this false world, and will loue nought
But euen the meere necessities vpon't:
Then Timon presently prepare thy graue:
Lye where the light Fome of the Sea may beate
Thy graue stone dayly, make thine Epitaph,
2020That death in me, at others liues may laugh.
O thou sweete King-killer, and deare diuorce
Twixt naturall Sunne and fire: thou bright defiler
of Himens purest bed, thou valiant Mars,
Thou euer, yong, fresh, loued, and delicate wooer,
2025Whose blush doth thawe the consecrated Snow
That lyes on Dians lap.
Thou visible God,
That souldrest close Impossibilities,
And mak'st them kisse; that speak'st with euerie Tongue
2030To euerie purpose: O thou touch of hearts,
Thinke thy slaue-man rebels, and by thy vertue
Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts
May haue the world in Empire.
Ape. Would 'twere so,
2035But not till I am dead. Ile say th'hast Gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly.
Tim. Throng'd too?
Ape. I.
Tim. Thy backe I prythee.
2040Ape. Liue, and loue thy misery.
Tim. Long liue so, and so dye. I am quit.
Ape. Mo things like men,
Eate Timon, and abhorre then.
Exit Apeman.
Enter the Bandetti.
20451 Where should he haue this Gold? It is some poore
Fragment, some slender Ort of his remainder: the meere
want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, droue
him into this Melancholly.
2 It is nois'd
2050He hath a masse of Treasure.
3 Let vs make the assay vpon him, if he care not for't,
he will supply vs easily: if he couetously reserue it, how
shall's get it?
2 True: for he beares it not about him:
2055'Tis hid.
1 Is not this hee?
All. Where?
2 'Tis his description.
3 He? I know him.
2060All. Saue thee Timon.
Tim. Now Theeues.
All. Soldiers, not Theeues.
Tim. Both too, and womens Sonnes.
All. We are not Theeues, but men
2065That much do want.
Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat:
Why should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Rootes:
Within this Mile breake forth a hundred Springs:
The Oakes beare Mast, the Briars Scarlet Heps,
2070The bounteous Huswife Nature, on each bush,
Layes her full Messe before you. Want? why Want?
1 We cannot liue on Grasse, on Berries, Water,
As Beasts, and Birds, and Fishes.
Ti. Nor on the Beasts themselues, the Birds & Fishes,
2075You must eate men. Yet thankes I must you con,
That you are Theeues profest: that you worke not
In holier shapes: For there is boundlesse Theft
In limited Professions. Rascall Theeues
Heere's Gold. Go, sucke the subtle blood o'th' Grape,
2080Till the high Feauor seeth your blood to froth,
And so scape hanging. Trust not the Physitian,
His Antidotes are poyson, and he slayes
Moe then you Rob: Take wealth, and liues together,
Do Villaine do, since you protest to doo't.
2085Like Workemen, Ile example you with Theeuery:
The Sunnes a Theefe, and with his great attraction
Robbes the vaste Sea. The Moones an arrant Theefe,
And her pale fire, she snatches from the Sunne.
The Seas a Theefe, whose liquid Surge, resolues
2090The Moone into Salt teares. The Earth's a Theefe,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolne
From gen'rall excrement: each thing's a Theefe.
The Lawes, your curbe and whip, in their rough power
Ha's vncheck'd Theft. Loue not your selues, away,
2095Rob one another, there's more Gold, cut throates,
All that you meete are Theeues: to Athens go,
Breake open shoppes, nothing can you steale
But Theeues do loose it: steale lesse, for this I giue you,
And Gold confound you howsoere: Amen.
21003 Has almost charm'd me from my Profession, by per-
swading me to it.
1 'Tis in the malice of mankinde, that he thus aduises
vs not to haue vs thriue in our mystery.
2 Ile beleeue him as an Enemy,
2105And giue ouer my Trade.
1 Let vs first see peace in Athens, there is no time so
miserable, but a man may be true.
Exit Theeues.
Enter the Steward to Timon.
Stew. Oh you Gods!
2110Is yon'd despis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and fayling? Oh Monument
And wonder of good deeds, euilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of Honor has desp'rate want made?
What vilder thing vpon the earth, then Friends,
2115Who can bring Noblest mindes, to basest ends.
How rarely does it meete with this times guise,
When man was wisht to loue his Enemies:
Grant I may euer loue, and rather woo
Those that would mischeefe me, then those that doo.
2120Has caught me in his eye, I will present my honest griefe
vnto him; and as my Lord, still serue him with my life.
My deerest Master.
Tim. Away: what art thou?
Stew. Haue you forgot me, Sir?
2125Tim. Why dost aske that? I haue forgot all men.
Then, if thou grunt'st, th'art a man.
I haue forgot thee.
Stew. An honest poore seruant of yours.
Tim. Then I know thee not:
2130I neuer had honest man about me, I all
I kept were Knaues, to serue in meate to Villaines.
Stew. The Gods are witnesse,
Neu'r did poore Steward weare a truer greefe
For his vndone Lord, then mine eyes for you.
2135Tim. What, dost thou weepe?
Come neerer, then I loue thee
Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankinde: whose eyes do neuer giue,
But thorow Lust and Laughter: pittie's sleeping:
2140Strange times yt weepe with laughing, not with weeping.
Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord,
T'accept my greefe, and whil'st this poore wealth lasts,
To entertaine me as your Steward still.
Tim. Had I a Steward
2145So true, so iust, and now so comfortable?
It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde.
Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
Was borne of woman.
Forgiue my generall, and exceptlesse rashnesse
2150You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime
One honest man: Mistake me not, but one:
No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.
How faine would I haue hated all mankinde,
And thou redeem'st thy selfe. But all saue thee,
2155I fell with Curses.
Me thinkes thou art more honest now, then wise:
For, by oppressing and betraying mee,
Thou might'st haue sooner got another Seruice:
For many so arriue at second Masters,
2160Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,
(For I must euer doubt, though ne're so sure)
Is not thy kindnesse subtle, couetous,
If not a Vsuring kindnesse, and as rich men deale Guifts,
Expecting in returne twenty for one?
2165Stew. No my most worthy Master, in whose brest
Doubt, and suspect (alas) are plac'd too late:
You should haue fear'd false times, when you did Feast.
Suspect still comes, where an estate is least.
That which I shew, Heauen knowes, is meerely Loue,
2170Dutie, and Zeale, to your vnmatched minde;
Care of your Food and Liuing, and beleeue it,
My most Honour'd Lord,
For any benefit that points to mee,
Either in hope, or present, I'de exchange
2175For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich your selfe.
Tim. Looke thee, 'tis so: thou singly honest man,
Heere take: the Gods out of my miserie
Ha's sent thee Treasure. Go, liue rich and happy,
2180But thus condition'd: Thou shalt build from men:
Hate all, curse all, shew Charity to none,
But let the famisht flesh slide from the Bone,
Ere thou releeue the Begger. Giue to dogges
What thou denyest to men. Let Prisons swallow 'em,
2185Debts wither 'em to nothing, be men like blasted woods
And may Diseases licke vp their false bloods,
And so farewell, and thriue.
Stew. O let me stay, and comfort you, my Master.
Tim. If thou hat'st Curses
2190Stay not: flye, whil'st thou art blest and free:
Ne're see thou man, and let me ne're see thee.