Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
THE LIFE OF TYMON
OF ATHENS.
1
Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.
¶
Enter Poet, Painter, Ieweller, Merchant, and Mercer,
¶
at seuerall doores.
¶
Poet.
5Good day Sir.
¶Pain. I am glad y'are well.
¶the World?
10Poet. I that's well knowne:
¶But what particular Rarity? What strange,
¶Which manifold record not matches: see
¶Hath coniur'd to attend.
15I know the Merchant.
¶Pain. I know them both: th' others a Ieweller.
¶Mer. O 'tis a worthy Lord.
¶Iew. I haue a Iewell heere.
25Poet. When we for recompence haue prais'd the vild,
¶Which aptly sings the good.
¶Mer. 'Tis a good forme.
¶Iewel. And rich: heere is a Water looke ye.
¶tion to the great Lord.
¶From whence 'tis nourisht: the fire i'th' Flint
35Shewes not, till it be strooke: our gentle flame
¶Prouokes it selfe, and like the currant flyes
¶Each bound it chases. What haue you there?
40Let's see your peece.
¶Pain. 'Tis a good Peece.
¶Poet. So 'tis, this comes off well, and excellent.
¶Pain. Indifferent.
¶Poet. Admirable: How this grace
45Speakes his owne standing: what a mentall power
¶This eye shootes forth? How bigge imagination
¶One might interpret.
¶Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life:
50Heere is a touch: Is't good?
¶It Tutors Nature, Artificiall strife
¶Liues in these toutches, liuelier then life.
¶
Enter certaine Senators.
55Pain. How this Lord is followed.
¶Poet. The Senators of Athens, happy men.
¶Pain. Looke moe.
¶I haue in this rough worke, shap'd out a man
60Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge
¶With amplest entertainment: My free drift
¶Halts not particularly, but moues it selfe
¶In a wide Sea of wax, no leuell'd malice
¶Infects one comma in the course I hold,
65But flies an Eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
¶Leauing no Tract behinde.
¶Poet. I will vnboult to you.
¶You see how all Conditions, how all Mindes,
70As well of glib and slipp'ry Creatures, as
¶Of Graue and austere qualitie, tender downe
¶Their seruices to Lord Timon: his large Fortune,
¶Vpon his good and gracious Nature hanging,
¶Subdues and properties to his loue and tendance
¶To Apemantus, that few things loues better
¶Then to abhorre himselfe; euen hee drops downe
¶The knee before him, and returnes in peace
¶Most rich in Timons nod.
¶Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd.
¶The Base o'th' Mount
¶Is rank'd with all deserts, all kinde of Natures
85That labour on the bosome of this Sphere,
¶Whose eyes are on this Soueraigne Lady fixt,
¶One do I personate of Lord Timons frame,
¶Whom Fortune with her Iuory hand wafts to her,
¶Translates his Riuals.
¶This Throne, this Fortune, and this Hill me thinkes
¶With one man becken'd from the rest below,
¶In our Condition.
¶Poet. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
¶All those which were his Fellowes but of late,
100Some better then his valew; on the moment
¶Follow his strides, his Lobbies fill with tendance,
¶Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare,
¶Make Sacred euen his styrrop, and through him
¶Drinke the free Ayre.
¶Spurnes downe her late beloued; all his Dependants
¶Which labour'd after him to the Mountaines top,
¶Euen on their knees and hand, let him sit downe,
110Not one accompanying his declining foot.
¶Pain. Tis common:
¶More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well,
¶The foot aboue the head.
¶
Trumpets sound.
¶
Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously
¶
to euery Sutor.
¶Mes. I my good Lord, fiue Talents is his debt,
¶Your Honourable Letter he desires
125Periods his comfort.
¶Tim. Noble Ventidius, well:
¶I am not of that Feather, to shake off
¶My Friend when he must neede me. I do know him
¶A Gentleman, that well deserues a helpe,
130Which he shall haue. Ile pay the debt, and free him.
¶And being enfranchized bid him come to me;
¶'Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble vp,
135But to support him after. Fare you well.
¶
Enter an old Athenian.
¶Tim. Freely good Father.
¶Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucillius.
145Oldm. This Fellow heere, L. Timon, this thy Creature,
¶By night frequents my house. I am a man
¶That from my first haue beene inclin'd to thrift,
¶Then one which holds a Trencher.
150Tim. Well: what further?
¶On whom I may conferre what I haue got:
¶The Maid is faire, a'th' youngest for a Bride,
155In Qualities of the best. This man of thine
¶Attempts her loue: I prythee (Noble Lord)
¶Ioyne with me to forbid him her resort,
160Oldm. Therefore he will be Timon,
¶It must not beare my Daughter.
¶Oldm. She is yong and apt:
¶What leuities in youth.
¶Tim. Loue you the Maid?
¶Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world,
¶Tim. This Gentleman of mine
¶Hath seru'd me long:
¶To build his Fortune, I will straine a little,
¶For 'tis a Bond in men. Giue him thy Daughter,
180What you bestow, in him Ile counterpoize,
¶And make him weigh with her.
¶Pawne me to this your Honour, she is his.
¶Tim. My hand to thee,
185Mine Honour on my promise.
¶That state or Fortune fall into my keeping,
¶Which is not owed to you.
Exit
190And long liue your Lordship.
¶Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend?
¶Your Lordship to accept.
195Tim. Painting is welcome.
¶The Painting is almost the Naturall man:
¶Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke,
200And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance
¶Till you heare further from me.
¶Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand.
¶If I should pay you for't as 'tis extold,
¶It would vnclew me quite.
210Iewel. My Lord, 'tis rated
¶Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
¶Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu't deere Lord,
¶You mend the Iewell by the wearing it.
¶Which all men speake with him.
¶Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid?
¶Tim. Good morrow to thee,
¶Gentle Apermantus.
¶them not?
¶Ape. Are they not Athenians?
¶Tim. Yes.
¶Ape. Then I repent not.
230Iew. You know me, Apemantus?
¶Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus?
¶Tim. Whether art going?
¶Tim. That's a deed thou't dye for.
¶Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' Law.
240Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it.
¶Ape. He wrought better that made the Painter, and
¶yet he's but a filthy peece of worke.
¶Pain. Y'are a Dogge.
245be a Dogge?
¶Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus?
¶Ape. No: I eate not Lords.
¶Ape. O they eate Lords;
250So they come by great bellies.
¶Take it for thy labour.
¶a man a Doit.
¶Ape. Not worth my thinking.
¶How now Poet?
¶Poet. Art not one?
¶Ape. Yes.
¶Poet. Then I lye not.
265Ape. Art not a Poet?
¶Poet. Yes.
¶worthy Fellow.
¶Ape. Yes he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
¶labour. He that loues to be flattered, is worthy o'th flat-
¶terer. Heauens, that I were a Lord.
275Ape. E'ne as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with
¶my heart.
¶Ape. I.
¶Tim. Wherefore?
280Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.
¶Art not thou a Merchant?
¶Mer. I Apemantus.
¶Ape. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not.
¶Mer. If Trafficke do it, the Gods do it.
285Ape. Traffickes thy God, & thy God confound thee.
¶
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
¶Tim. What Trumpets that?
¶All of Companionship.
290Tim. Pray entertaine them, giue them guide to vs.
¶You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
¶Till I haue thankt you: when dinners done
¶Shew me this peece, I am ioyfull of your sights.
¶
Enter Alcibiades with the rest.
295Most welcome Sir.
¶mans bred out into Baboon and Monkey.
¶Tim. Right welcome Sir:
¶Ere we depatt, wee'l share a bounteous time
¶In different pleasures.
305Pray you let vs in.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter two Lords.
¶1.Lord What time a day is't Apemantus?
¶2 Farthee well, farthee well.
¶Ape. Thou art a Foole to bid me farewell twice.
3152 Why Apemantus?
¶to giue thee none.
¶Ape. No I will do nothing at thy bidding:
320Make thy requests to thy Friend.
¶2 Away vnpeaceable Dogge,
¶Or Ile spurne thee hence.
325Come shall we in,
¶And raste Lord Timons bountie: he out- goes
¶2 He powres it out: Plutus the God of Gold
¶Is but his Steward: no meede but he repayes
330Seuen- fold aboue it selfe: No guift to him,
¶But breeds the giuer a returne: exceeding
¶All vse of quittance.
¶That euer gouern'd man.
3352 Long may he liue in Fortunes. Shall we in?
¶Ile keepe you Company.
Exeunt.
¶
Hoboyes Playing lowd Musicke.
¶A great Banquet seru'd in: and then, Enter Lord Timon, the
¶
States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which Timon re-
¶It hath pleas'd the Gods to remember my Fathers age,
¶And call him to long peace:
345He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
¶Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound
¶To your free heart, I do returne those Talents
¶I deriu'd libertie.
350Tim. O by no meanes,
¶I gaue it freely euer, and ther's none
¶Can truely say he giues, if he receiues:
¶If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
355To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire.
360But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
¶Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,
¶Then my Fortunes to me.
365Timo. O Apermantus, you are welcome.
¶I come to haue thee thrust me out of doores.
¶Tim. Fie, th'art a churle, ye'haue got a humour there
¶Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame:
¶But yond man is verie angrie.
¶Go, let him haue a Table by himselfe:
¶For he does neither affect companie,
¶Nor is he fit for't indeed.
¶I come to obserue, I giue thee warning on't.
¶Tim. I take no heede of thee: Th'art an Athenian,
¶therefore welcome: I my selfe would haue no power,
¶prythee let my meate make thee silent.
¶should nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number
¶of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not? It greeues me
¶Me thinks they should enuite them without kniues,
¶Good for there meate, and safer for their liues.
¶There's much example for't, the fellow that sits next him,
¶now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in
390a diuided draught: is the readiest man to kill him. 'Tas
¶beene proued, if I were a huge man I should feare to
¶on their throates.
395Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round.
¶2.Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord.
¶Aper. Flow this way? A braue fellow. He keepes his
¶looke ill, Timon.
400Heere's that which is too weake to be a sinner,
¶Honest water, which nere left man i'th' mire:
¶This and my food are equals, there's no ods,
¶Feasts are to proud to giue thanks to the Gods.
¶
Apermantus Grace.
405
Immortall Gods, I craue no pelfe,
¶I pray for no man but my selfe,
¶Graunt I may neuer proue so fond,
¶To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
¶Or a Harlot for her weeping,
¶Or a keeper with my freedome,
¶Or my friends if I should need 'em.
¶
Amen. So fall too't:
¶Richmen sin, and I eat root.
415Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus
¶Tim. Captaine,
¶Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now.
420then a dinner of Friends.
¶Alc. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there's no
¶then, that then thou might'st kill 'em: & bid me to 'em.
¶that you would once vse our hearts, whereby we might
¶selues for euer perfect.
¶Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods
¶from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why
¶haue you that charitable title from thousands? Did not
¶you chiefely belong to my heart? I haue told more of
435your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh
¶you Gods (thinke I,) what need we haue any Friends; if
¶I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do bene-
¶fits. And what better or properer can we call our owne,
¶then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a pretious com-
445fort 'tis, to haue so many like Brothers commanding
¶one anothers Fortunes. Oh ioyes, e'ne made away er't
¶can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks
¶to forget their Faults. I drinke to you.
4502.Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eies,
¶Aper. Much.
455
Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with
¶
Lutes in their hands, dauncing and playing.
¶Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now?
¶
Enter Seruant.
¶Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?
¶Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
¶Tim. I pray let them be admitted.
465
Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.
¶Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
¶their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious
¶bosome.
¶They onely now come but to Feast thine eies.
¶tance. Musicke make their welcome.
475Aper. Hoyday,
¶What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way.
¶They daunce? They are madwomen,
¶As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote.
¶Vpon whose Age we voyde it vp agen
¶With poysonous Spight and Enuy.
¶Who liues, that's not depraued, or depraues;
485Who dyes, that beares not one spurne to their graues
¶Of their Friends guift:
¶Would one day stampe vpon me: 'Tas bene done,
490
The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and
¶
to shew their loues, each single out an Amazon, and all
495Much grace (faire Ladies)
¶Set a faire fashion on our entertainment,
¶Which was not halfe so beautifull, and kinde:
¶You haue added worth vntoo't, and luster,
¶And entertain'd me with mine owne deuice.
500I am to thanke you for't.
¶taking, I doubt me.
¶Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
¶Tim. Flauius.
¶Fla. My Lord.
510Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Iewels yet?
¶'Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,
515That man might ne're be wretched for his minde.
Exit.
¶1 Lord. Where be our men?
¶Tim. O my Friends:
520I haue one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L.
¶As to aduance this Iewell, accept it, and weare it,
¶Kinde my Lord.
525All. So are we all.
¶
Enter a Seruant.
¶Ser. My Lord, there are certaine Nobles of the Senate
¶newly alighted, and come to visit you.
¶Tim. They are fairely welcome.
530
Enter Flauius.
¶does concerne you neere.
¶Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee.
¶I prythee let's be prouided to shew them entertainment.
¶
Enter another Seruant.
¶(Out of his free loue) hath presented to you
¶Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Siluer.
¶Be worthily entertain'd.
¶
Enter a third Seruant.
¶How now? What newes?
545man Lord Lucullus, entreats your companie to morrow,
¶to hunt with him, and ha's sent your Honour two brace
¶of Grey-hounds.
¶Tim. Ile hunt with him,
¶And let them be receiu'd, not without faire Reward.
550Fla. What will this come to?
¶He commands vs to prouide, and giue great guifts, and
¶all out of an empty Coffer:
¶Nor will he know his Purse, or yeeld me this,
¶To shew him what a Begger his heart is,
555Being of no power to make his wishes good.
¶That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for eu'ry word:
¶His Land's put to their Bookes. Well, would I were
560Gently put out of Office, before I were forc'd out:
¶Happier is he that has no friend to feede,
¶Then such that do e'ne Enemies exceede.
¶I bleed inwardly for my Lord.
Exit
565You bate too much of your owne merits.
¶Heere my Lord, a trifle of our Loue.
¶2.Lord. With more then common thankes
¶I will receyue it.
570Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gaue good
¶words the other day of a Bay Courser I rod on. Tis yours
¶because you lik'd it.
¶Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no
¶my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true,
¶Ile call to you.
580So kinde to heart, 'tis not enough to giue:
¶Me thinkes, I could deale Kingdomes to my Friends,
¶And nere be wearie. Alcibiades,
¶Thou art a Soldiour, therefore sildome rich,
¶It comes in Charitie to thee: for all thy liuing
¶Lye in a pitcht field.
¶Alc. I, defil'd Land, my Lord.
5902.Lord. So infinitely endeer'd.
¶Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights.
¶Keepe with you Lord Timon.
¶ting out of bummes. I doubt whether their Legges be
¶worth the summes that are giuen for 'em.
¶Friendships full of dregges,
¶I would be good to thee.
¶there would be none left to raile vponthee, and then thou
¶Tim. Nay, and you begin to raile on Societie once, I
¶am sworne not to giue regard to you. Farewell, & come
610with better Musicke.
Exit
¶not then. Ile locke thy heauen from thee:
¶Oh that mens eares should be
¶To Counsell deafe, but not to Flatterie.
Exit
615
Enter a Senator.
¶Which makes it fiue and twenty. Still in motion
¶Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not.
620If I want Gold, steale but a beggers Dogge,
¶And giue it Timon, why the Dogge coines Gold.
¶Better then he; why giue my Horse to Timon.
625And able Horses: No Porter at his gate,
¶Caphis I say.
630
Enter Caphis.
¶Importune him for my Moneyes, be not ceast
635Commend me to your Master, and the Cap
¶Playes in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
¶Out of mine owne, his dayes and times are past,
¶And my reliances on his fracted dates
640Haue smit my credit. I loue, and honour him,
¶But must not breake my backe, to heale his finger.
¶Immediate are my needs, and my releefe
¶But finde supply immediate. Get you gone,
¶A visage of demand: for I do feare
¶When euery Feather stickes in his owne wing,
¶Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
¶Which flashes now a Phoenix, get you gone.
¶Take the Bonds along with you,
¶And haue the dates in. Come.
¶Ca. I will Sir.
¶
Enter Steward, with many billes in his hand.
¶That he will neither know how to maintaine it,
¶Nor cease his flow of Riot. Takes no accompt
660How things go from him, nor resume no care
¶Of what is to continue: neuer minde,
¶What shall be done, he will not heare, till feele:
¶I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
665Fye, fie, fie, fie.
¶
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.
¶Cap. Good euen Varro: what, you come for money?
¶Var. I feare it,
¶Cap. Heere comes the Lord.
¶
Enter Timon, and his Traine.
¶My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will?
¶Cap. My Lord, heere is a note of certaine dues.
¶Tim. Dues? whence are you?
¶Cap. Of Athens heere, my Lord.
680Tim. Go to my Steward.
¶To call vpon his owne, and humbly prayes you,
685That with your other Noble parts, you'l suite,
¶In giuing him his right.
¶I prythee but repaire to me next morning.
¶Cap. Nay, good my Lord.
¶ment.
¶and past.
¶Isi. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I
¶Tim. Giue me breath:
700I do beseech you good my Lords keepe on,
¶Ile waite vpon you instantly. Come hither: pray you
¶How goes the world, that I am thus encountred
¶With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds,
¶And the detention of long since due debts
705Against my Honor?
¶Your importunacie cease, till after dinner,
710Wherefore you are not paid.
¶
Enter Apemantus and Foole.
¶Isid. A plague vpon him dogge.
¶Isi. There's the Foole hangs on your backe already.
¶Cap. Where's the Foole now?
¶Vsurers men, Bauds betweene Gold and want.
¶Al. What are we Apemantus?
¶All. Why?
¶your selues. Speake to 'em Foole.
¶Foole. How do you Gentlemen?
¶All. Gramercies good Foole:
¶How does your Mistris?
¶kens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth.
¶Ape. Good, Gramercy.
¶
Enter Page.
740Page. Why how now Captaine? what do you in this
¶wise Company.
¶How dost thou Apermantus?
¶Ape. Would I had a Rod in my mouth, that I might
¶answer thee profitably.
¶on of these Letters, I know not which is which.
¶Page. No.
¶Ape. There will litle Learning dye then that day thou
750art hang'd. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go
¶thou was't borne a Bastard, and thou't dye a Bawd.
¶famish a Dogges death.
¶Answer not, I am gone.
Exit
¶Foole I will go with you to Lord Timons.
¶Foole. Will you leaue me there?
¶Ape. So would I:
¶As good a tricke as euer Hangman seru'd Theefe.
¶All. I Foole.
¶uant. My Mistris is one, and I am her Foole: when men
770Var. I could render one.
¶two stones moe then's artificiall one. Hee is verie often
¶like a Knight; and generally, in all shapes that man goes
¶walkes in.
¶Var. Thou art not altogether a Foole.
¶
Enter Timon and Steward.
¶Ape. Come with me (Foole) come.
¶Foole. I do not alwayes follow Louer, elder Brother,
¶Stew. Pray you walke neere,
¶Ile speake with you anon.
Exeunt.
¶Tim. You make me meruell wherefore ere this time
¶Had you not fully laide my state before me,
795That I might so haue rated my expence
¶As I had leaue of meanes.
¶Stew. You would not heare me:
¶Tim. Go too:
¶Stew. O my good Lord,
805At many times I brought in my accompts,
¶Laid them before you, you would throw them off,
810Yea 'gainst th' Authoritie of manners, pray'd you
¶To hold your hand more close: I did indure
¶Prompted you in the ebbe of your estate,
¶And your great flow of debts; my lou'd Lord,
815Though you heare now (too late) yet nowes a time,
¶The greatest of your hauing, lackes a halfe,
¶To pay your present debts.
820And what remaines will hardly stop the mouth
¶Of present dues; the future comes apace:
¶What shall defend the interim, and at length
¶How goes our reck'ning?
¶Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend.
825Stew. O my good Lord, the world is but a word,
¶Were it all yours, to giue it in a breath,
¶How quickely were it gone.
¶Tim. You tell me true.
830Call me before th' exactest Auditors,
¶When all our Offices haue beene opprest
¶With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults haue wept
¶With drunken spilth of Wine; when euery roome
¶I haue retyr'd me to a wastefull cocke,
¶And set mine eyes at flow.
¶Tim. Prythee no more.
840How many prodigall bits haue Slaues and Pezants
¶This night englutted: who is not Timons,
¶What heart, head, sword, force, meanes, but is L. Timons:
¶Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royall Timon:
¶Ah, when the meanes are gone, that buy this praise,
845The breath is gone, whereof this praise is made:
¶These flyes are coucht.
¶No villanous bounty yet hath past my heart;
850Vnwisely, not ignobly haue I giuen.
¶And try the argument of hearts, by borrowing,
855Men, and mens fortunes could I frankely vse
¶As I can bid thee speake.
860Shall I trie Friends. You shall perceiue
¶How you mistake my Fortunes:
¶I am wealthie in my Friends.
¶Within there, Flauius, Seruilius?
¶
Enter three Seruants.
865Ser. My Lord, my Lord.
¶You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted
¶with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me
¶the request be fifty Talents.
¶Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh.
875Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue
¶A thousand Talents to me.
¶Ste. I haue beene bold
¶(For that I knew it the most generall way)
880To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name,
¶But they do shake their heads, and I am heere
¶No richer in returne.
¶Tim. Is't true? Can't be?
885That now they are at fall, want Treasure cannot
¶Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable,
¶But yet they could haue wisht, they know not,
¶May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty,
¶With certaine halfe-caps, and cold mouing nods,
¶They froze me into Silence.
¶Tim. You Gods reward them:
895Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes
¶Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary:
¶Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it sildome flowes,
¶'Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde;
¶And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth,
900Is fashion'd for the iourney, dull and heauy.
¶Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad,
¶No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately
905Into a great estate: When he was poore,
¶I cleer'd him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me,
¶Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred
¶That Timons fortunes 'mong his Friends can sinke.
¶Stew. I would I could not thinke it:
¶That thought is Bounties Foe;
Exeunt
¶
Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master,
¶
enters a seruant to him.
¶Ser. I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down
¶to you.
920Flam. I thanke you Sir.
¶
Enter Lucullus.
¶Ser. Heere's my Lord.
¶Luc. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant.
¶Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre
¶does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentle-
¶man of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and May-
¶ster?
¶what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius?
¶Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in
¶good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep
¶him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him
¶ry man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,
945but I could nere get him from't.
¶
Enter Seruant with Wine.
¶Heere's to thee.
¶prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes
¶well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no
¶without securitie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good
¶well.
¶To him that worships thee.
¶Master.
Exit L.
¶Let moulten Coine be thy damnation,
¶Has my Lords meate in him:
¶Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment,
975When he is turn'd to poyson?
¶And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature
¶Which my Lord payd for, be of any power
Exit.
980
Enter Lucius, with three strangers.
¶Luc. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend
¶and an Honourable Gentleman.
¶gers to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and
985which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons
¶from him.
¶Lucius. Fye no, doe not beleeue it: hee cannot want
¶for money.
9902 But beleeue you this my Lord, that not long agoe,
¶one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow so
¶many Talents, nay vrg'd extreamly for't, and shewed
¶Luci. How?
9952 I tell you, deny'de my Lord.
¶Gods I am asham'd on't. Denied that honourable man?
¶There was verie little Honour shew'd in't. For my owne
¶like Trifles; nothing comparing to his: yet had hee mi-
¶
Enter Seruilius.
1005Seruil. See, by good hap yonders my Lord, I haue
¶commend me to thy Honourable vertuous Lord, my ve-
¶ry exquisite Friend.
¶sent---
¶with so many Talents.
¶He cannot want fifty fiue hundred Talents.
¶If his occasion were not vertuous,
¶Purchase the day before for a little part, and vndo a great
¶deale of Honour? Seruilius, now before the Gods I am
¶I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done't now.
¶Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship, and I
1035I haue no power to be kinde. And tell him this from me,
¶words to him?
¶Lucil. Ile looke you out a good turne Seruilius.
¶And he that's once deny'de, will hardly speede.
Exit.
10452 I, to well.
¶Is euery Flatterers sport: who can call him his Friend
1050Timon has bin this Lords Father,
¶And kept his credit with his purse:
¶Supported his estate, nay Timons money
¶Has paid his men their wages. He ne're drinkes,
¶But Timons Siluer treads vpon his Lip,
¶When he lookes out in an vngratefull shape;
¶He does deny him (in respect of his)
¶What charitable men affoord to Beggers.
¶3 Religion grones at it.
¶Nor came any of his bounties ouer me,
¶To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest,
¶For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue,
¶And Honourable Carriage,
¶I would haue put my wealth into Donation,
¶So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue,
_
Exeunt.
¶
Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another
¶
of Timons Friends.
¶'Boue all others?
1075He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus,
¶And now Ventidgius is wealthy too,
¶Owes their estates vnto him.
¶Ser. My Lord,
1080They haue all bin touch'd, and found Base-Mettle,
¶For they haue all denied him.
¶Semp. How? Haue they deny'de him?
¶Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny'de him,
¶And does he send to me? Three? Humh?
1085It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him.
¶Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th' Cure vpon me?
¶Has much disgrac'd me in't, I'me angry at him,
¶That ere receiued guift from him.
¶And does he thinke so backwardly of me now,
¶That Ile requite it last? No:
1095So it may proue an Argument of Laughter
¶I'de rather then the worth of thrice the summe,
¶I'de such a courage to do him good. But now returne,
1100And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne;
¶Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.
Exit
¶diuell knew not what he did, when hee made man Poli-
1105in the end, the Villanies of man will set him cleere. How
¶ture is his politike loue.
1110This was my Lords best hope, now all are fled
¶Saue onely the Gods. Now his Friends are dead,
¶Doores that were ne're acquainted with their Wards
¶Many a bounteous yeere, must be imploy'd
1115And this is all a liberall course allowes,
_
Exit.
¶
Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to
¶Tit. The like to you kinde Varro.
¶Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together?
¶For mine is money.
1125Tit. So is theirs, and ours.
¶
Enter Philotus.
¶Phil. Good day at once.
¶Luci. Welcome good Brother.
1130What do you thinke the houre?
¶Phil. Labouring for Nine.
¶Luci. So much?
¶Luci. Not yet.
¶Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare:
1140may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little.
¶Phil. I am of your feare, for that.
¶Your Lord sends now for Money?
1145Tit. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift,
¶For which I waite for money.
¶Timon in this, should pay more then he owes:
1150And e'ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels,
¶And send for money for 'em.
¶Hort. I'me weary of this Charge,
¶I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth,
¶What's yours?
1160Your Masters confidence was aboue mine,
¶
Enter Flaminius.
¶Tit. One of Lord Timons men.
¶Luc. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie
1165to come forth?
¶Flam. No, indeed he is not.
¶
Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.
¶He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him.
¶Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting,
¶'Twere sure enough.
¶Why then preferr'd you not your summes and Billes
1180Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts,
¶And take downe th' Intrest into their glutt'nous Mawes.
¶Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end,
1185I haue no more to reckon, he to spend.
¶For you serue Knaues.
1190mutter?
¶uenge enough. Who can speake broader, then hee that
¶great buildings.
1195
Enter Seruilius.
¶answere.
¶His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much out
¶of health, and keepes his Chamber.
¶And if it be so farre beyond his health,
¶And make a cleere way to the Gods.
¶Seruil. Good Gods.
¶Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.
1210
Enter Timon in a rage.
¶Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?
¶The place which I haue Feasted, does it now
1215(Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart?
¶Luci. Put in now Titus.
¶Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill.
¶Luci. Here's mine.
¶1.Var. And mine, my Lord.
12202.Var. And ours, my Lord.
¶Philo. All our Billes.
¶Tim. Knocke me downe with 'em, cleaue mee to the
¶Girdle.
¶Luc. Alas, my Lord.
¶Tit. Mine, fifty Talents.
¶Tim. Tell out my blood.
1230What yours? and yours?
¶1.Var. My Lord.
¶2.Var. My Lord.
¶Tim. Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.
¶rate ones, for a madman owes 'em.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Timon.
¶Timon. They haue e'ene put my breath from mee the
1240slaues. Creditors? Diuels.
¶Stew. My deere Lord.
¶Stew. My Lord.
1245Stew. Heere my Lord.
¶Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe,
¶Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All,
¶derate Table.
¶Tim. Be it not in thy care:
¶Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tide
¶Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.
Exeunt
1255
Enter three Senators at one doore, Alcibiades meeting them,
¶
with Attendants.
¶1.Sen. My Lord, you haue my voyce, too't,
¶The faults Bloody:
¶1 Now Captaine.
¶Alc. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues;
1265For pitty is the vertue of the Law,
¶And none but Tyrants vse it cruelly.
¶It pleases time and Fortune to lye heauie
¶Vpon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood
1270To those that (without heede) do plundge intoo't.
¶Nor did he soyle the fact with Cowardice,
¶(And Honour in him, which buyes out his fault)
¶But with a Noble Fury, and faire spirit,
1275Seeing his Reputation touch'd to death,
¶He did oppose his Foe:
¶He did behooue his anger ere 'twas spent,
¶As if he had but prou'd an Argument.
¶Striuing to make an vgly deed looke faire:
¶Your words haue tooke such paines, as if they labour'd
¶Vpon the head of Valour; which indeede
1285Is Valour mis-begot, and came into the world,
¶When Sects, and Factions were newly borne.
¶The worst that man can breath,
¶And make his Wrongs, his Out-sides,
¶And ne're preferre his iniuries to his heart,
¶To bring it into danger.
¶If Wrongs be euilles, and inforce vs kill,
¶What Folly 'tis, to hazard life for Ill.
1295Alci. My Lord.
¶To reuenge is no Valour, but to beare.
¶Alci. My Lords, then vnder fauour, pardon me,
¶If I speake like a Captaine.
¶And not endure all threats? Sleepe vpon't,
¶And let the Foes quietly cut their Throats
¶Without repugnancy? If there be
¶Such Valour in the bearing, what make wee
1305Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant
¶That stay at home, if Bearing carry it:
¶The fellow loaden with Irons, wiser then the Iudge?
1310As you are great, be pittifully Good,
¶To be in Anger, is impietie:
1315But who is Man, that is not Angrie.
¶Weigh but the Crime with this.
¶2.Sen. You breath in vaine.
¶Alci. In vaine?
¶His seruice done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium,
1320Were a sufficient briber for his life.
¶1 What's that?
¶And slaine in fight many of your enemies:
¶How full of valour did he beare himselfe
1325In the last Conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
¶2 He has made too much plenty with him:
¶That often drownes him, and takes his valour prisoner.
¶If there were no Foes, that were enough
1330To ouercome him. In that Beastly furie,
¶He has bin knowne to commit outrages,
¶And cherrish Factions. 'Tis inferr'd to vs,
¶His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous.
¶1 He dyes.
1335Alci. Hard fate: he might haue dyed in warre.
¶My Lords, if not for any parts in him,
¶Though his right arme might purchase his owne time,
¶And be in debt to none: yet more to moue you,
¶Take my deserts to his, and ioyne 'em both.
1340And for I know, your reuerend Ages loue Security,
¶Ile pawne my Victories, all my Honour to you
¶Vpon his good returnes.
¶If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life,
¶Why let the Warre receiue't in valiant gore,
1345For Law is strict, and Warre is nothing more.
¶1 We are for Law, he dyes, vrge it no more
¶He forfeits his owne blood, that spilles another.
1350My Lords, I do beseech you know mee.
¶2 How?
¶Alc. Call me to your remembrances.
¶3 What.
¶Alc. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me,
¶My wounds ake at you.
¶1 Do you dare our anger?
¶'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:
1360We banish thee for euer.
¶That makes the Senate vgly.
1365Attend our waightier Iudgement.
¶And not to swell our Spirit,
Exeunt.
¶Alc. Now the Gods keepe you old enough,
¶That you may liue
1370Onely in bone, that none may looke on you.
¶I'm worse then mad: I haue kept backe their Foes
¶While they haue told their Money, and let out
¶Rich onely in large hurts. All those, for this?
¶Powres into Captaines wounds? Banishment.
¶It comes not ill: I hate not to be banisht,
¶It is a cause worthy my Spleene and Furie,
¶That I may strike at Athens. Ile cheere vp
1380My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts;
¶'Tis Honour with most Lands to be at ods,
¶Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as Gods.
Exit.
¶
Enter diuers Friends at seuerall doores.
¶did but try vs this other day.
¶countred. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it
¶sting.
¶uiting, which many my neere occasions did vrge mee to
¶put off: but he hath coniur'd mee beyond them, and I
1395must needs appeare.
¶out.
¶things go.
¶wed of you?
¶1 What of you?
¶
Enter Timon and Attendants.
¶Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how
1410fare you?
¶2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing,
¶then we your Lordship.
1415mer Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not re-
¶2 My Noble Lord.
¶Tim. Ah my good Friend, what cheere?
¶
The Banket brought in.
¶so vnfortunate a Beggar.
1430Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance.
¶Come bring in all together.
¶1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you.
14351 How do you? What's the newes?
¶1 How? How?
14402 I pray you vpon what?
¶Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw neere?
¶3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold?
¶3 I do conceyue.
¶places alike. Make not a Citie Feast of it, to let the meat
¶The Gods require our Thankes.
1455man enough, that one neede not lend to another. For were your
¶Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make
¶the Meate be beloued, more then the Man that giues it. Let
¶sit twelue Women at the Table, let a dozen of them bee as they
1460are. The rest of your Fees, O Gods, the Senators of Athens,
¶them, and to nothing are they welcome.
1465Vncouer Dogges, and lap.
¶Some other. I know not.
¶You knot of Mouth-Friends: Smoke, & lukewarm water
1470Is your perfection. This is Timons last,
¶Your reeking villany. Liue loath'd, and long
1475Curteous Destroyers, affable Wolues, meeke Beares:
¶You Fooles of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Times Flyes,
¶Cap and knee-Slaues, vapours, and Minute Iackes.
¶Of Man and Beast, the infinite Maladie
¶Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none.
¶What? All in Motion? Henceforth be no Feast,
¶Whereat a Villaine's not a welcome Guest.
1485Of Timon Man, and all Humanity.
Exit
¶
Enter the Senators, with other Lords.
¶1 How now, my Lords?
¶2 Know you the quality of Lord Timons fury?
¶him. He gaue me a Iewell th' other day, and now hee has
¶beate it out of my hat.
¶Did you see my Iewell?
¶3 Heere 'tis.
¶4 Heere lyes my Gowne.
¶2 Lord Timons mad.
15003 I feel't vpon my bones.
¶
Exeunt the Senators.
¶
Enter Timon.
¶Tim. Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall
1505That girdles in those Wolues, diue in the earth,
¶And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent,
¶Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles
¶Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
1510Conuert o'th' Instant greene Virginity,
¶Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast
¶Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues,
¶Large-handed Robbers your graue Masters are,
1515And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Masters bed,
¶Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
¶With it, beate out his Braines, Piety, and Feare,
¶Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iustice, Truth,
¶Decline to your confounding contraries.
¶And yet Confusion liue: Plagues incident to men,
1525Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape
¶On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
¶Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt
¶As lamely as their Manners. Lust, and Libertie
¶Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth,
¶And drowne themselues in Riot. Itches, Blaines,
¶So we all th' Athenian bosomes, and their crop
¶Be generall Leprosie: Breath, infect breath,
¶That their Society (as their Friendship) may
1535Be meerely poyson. Nothing Ile beare from thee
¶Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes:
¶Timon will to the Woods, where he shall finde
1540The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all)
¶Th'Athenians both within and out that Wall:
¶And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow
¶To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low.
¶Amen.
Exit.
1545
Enter Steward with two or three Seruants.
¶Are we vndone, cast off, nothing remaining?
¶Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods,
1550I am as poore as you.
¶So Noble a Master falne, all gone, and not
¶One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme,
¶And go along with him.
15552 As we do turne our backes
¶From our Companion, throwne into his graue,
¶So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes
¶Slinke all away, leaue their false vowes with him
1560A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre,
¶Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes.
¶
Enter other Seruants.
15653 Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery,
¶Seruing alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our Barke,
¶And we poore Mates, stand on the dying Decke,
¶Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part
1570Into this Sea of Ayre.
¶Stew. Good Fellowes all,
1575As 'twere a Knell vnto our Masters Fortunes,
¶Nay put out all your hands: Not one word more,
¶Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poore.
¶
Embrace and part seuerall wayes.
¶Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
¶Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt?
¶Who would be so mock'd with Glory, or to liue
¶But in a Dreame of Friendship,
1585To haue his pompe, and all what state compounds,
¶But onely painted like his varnisht Friends:
¶Poore honest Lord, brought lowe by his owne heart,
1590Who then dares to be halfe so kinde agen?
¶For Bounty that makes Gods, do still marre Men.
¶Rich onely to be wretched; thy great Fortunes
¶Are made thy cheefe Afflictions. Alas (kinde Lord)
1595Hee's flung in Rage from this ingratefull Seate
¶Of monstrous Friends:
¶Nor ha's he with him to supply his life,
¶Or that which can command it:
¶Ile follow and enquire him out.
Exit.
¶
Enter Timon in the woods.
¶Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe
1605Infect the ayre. Twin'd Brothers of one wombe,
1610But by contempt of Nature.
¶Raise me this Begger, and deny't that Lord,
¶The Senators shall beare contempt Hereditary,
¶The Begger Natiue Honor.
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.
1625Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes,
¶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
1635Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads.
¶This yellow Slaue,
¶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;
¶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:
¶
Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fife in warlike manner,
¶
and Phrynia and Timandra.
¶For shewing me againe the eyes of Man.
¶That art thy selfe a Man?
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.
¶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.
¶Tim. None, but to maintaine my opinion.
1680Alc. What is it Timon?
¶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.
¶Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots.
¶Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world
1690Voic'd so regardfully?
¶and the Diet.
¶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
¶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.
¶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.
¶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
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
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
¶Thinke it a Bastard, whom the Oracle
1735Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat shall cut,
¶Put Armour on thine eares, and on thine eyes,
¶Whose proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes,
1740Shall pierce a iot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers,
¶Confounded be thy selfe. Speake not, be gone.
¶thee.
¶And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold vp you Sluts
1750Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable,
¶Th'immortall Gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes:
¶Be strong in Whore, allure him, burne him vp,
¶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.
¶And marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce,
1770That he may neuer more false Title pleade,
¶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
(bald
¶And let the vnscarr'd Braggerts of the Warre
¶Deriue some paine from you. Plague all,
¶That your Actiuity may defeate and quell
¶Do you damne others, and let this damne you,
¶And ditches graue you all.
¶Timon.
¶uen you earnest.
¶Alc. Strike vp the Drum towardes Athens, farewell
¶Timon: if I thriue well, Ile visit thee againe.
1790Alc. I neuer did thee harme.
¶Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away,
¶And take thy Beagles with thee.
¶Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou
1800Whereof thy proud Childe (arrogant man) is puft,
¶Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew,
¶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
¶
Enter Apemantus.
¶More man? Plague, plague.
¶Ape. I was directed hither. Men report,
¶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
1835And call it excellent: thou wast told thus:
¶That the bleake ayre, thy boysterous Chamberlaine
1845That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles
¶Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste
¶To cure thy o're-nights surfet? Call the Creatures,
¶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.
¶Ape. Why?
¶Ape. To vex thee.
¶Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles.
¶Ape. I.
1865Tim. What, a Knaue too?
¶To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
¶Wert thou not Beggar: willing misery
1870Out-liues: incertaine pompe, is crown'd before:
¶The one is filling still, neuer compleat:
¶Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme
¶With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge.
1880The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords,
¶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;
¶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
¶They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen?
¶If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge)
¶Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone,
¶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.
¶If not, I would it were.
¶Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt,
¶Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue.
¶For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme.
¶Tim. Vnder that's aboue me.
1925Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus?
¶where I eate it.
¶but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy
¶Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much
1935spis'd for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it.
¶Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.
¶Tim. I, though it looke like thee.
¶euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes?
¶thou euer know belou'd?
¶keepe a Dogge.
¶compare to thy Flatterers?
¶pemantus, if it lay in thy power?
1955Ape. I Timon.
¶thee t'attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
¶beguile thee. if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would
1965thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound
¶pard: wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the
1970Lion, and the spottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy
¶Haue hit vpon it heere.
¶The Commonwealth of Athens, is become
¶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.
¶Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee;
¶But I should infect my hands.
¶Ape. I would my tongue
¶Could rot them off.
¶Choller does kill me,
¶Tim. Slaue.
¶Ape. Toad.
¶Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.
¶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,
¶That lyes on Dians lap.
¶Thou visible God,
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.
¶Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly.
¶Tim. Throng'd too?
¶Ape. I.
¶Tim. Thy backe I prythee.
¶Ape. Mo things like men,
¶Eate Timon, and abhorre then.
Exit Apeman.
¶
Enter the Bandetti.
¶want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, droue
¶him into this Melancholly.
¶2 It is nois'd
¶shall's get it?
¶2 True: for he beares it not about him:
2055'Tis hid.
¶1 Is not this hee?
¶All. Where?
¶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.
¶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,
¶That you are Theeues profest: that you worke not
2080Till the high Feauor seeth your blood to froth,
¶Moe then you Rob: Take wealth, and liues together,
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,
2090The Moone into Salt teares. The Earth's a Theefe,
¶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,
¶And Gold confound you howsoere: Amen.
¶swading me to it.
¶vs not to haue vs thriue in our mystery.
¶2 Ile beleeue him as an Enemy,
2105And giue ouer my Trade.
¶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,
¶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
¶Tim. Away: what art thou?
¶Stew. Haue you forgot me, Sir?
¶Then, if thou grunt'st, th'art a man.
¶I haue forgot thee.
¶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.
¶Neu'r did poore Steward weare a truer greefe
¶For his vndone Lord, then mine eyes for you.
¶Come neerer, then I loue thee
¶Flinty mankinde: whose eyes do neuer giue,
2140Strange times yt weepe with laughing, not with weeping.
¶Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord,
¶To entertaine me as your Steward still.
¶Tim. Had I a Steward
¶It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde.
¶Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
¶Was borne of woman.
2150You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime
¶No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.
¶How faine would I haue hated all mankinde,
2155I fell with Curses.
2160Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,
¶Expecting in returne twenty for one?
¶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.
¶Heere take: the Gods out of my miserie
2180But thus condition'd: Thou shalt build from men:
¶Ere thou releeue the Begger. Giue to dogges
2185Debts wither 'em to nothing, be men like blasted woods
¶And so farewell, and thriue.
Exit
¶
Enter Poet, and Painter.
¶Pain. As I tooke note of the place, it cannot be farre
¶where he abides.
2195Poet. What's to be thought of him?
¶Does the Rumor hold for true,
¶That hee's so full of Gold?
¶Painter. Certaine.
¶Alcibiades reports it: Phrinica and Timandylo
2200Had Gold of him. He likewise enrich'd
¶Poore stragling Souldiers, with great quantity.
¶'Tis saide, he gaue vnto his Steward
¶A mighty summe.
¶Poet. Then this breaking of his,
2205Ha's beene but a Try for his Friends?
¶And is very likely, to loade our purposes
¶With what they trauaile for,
¶If it be a iust and true report, that goes
2215Of his hauing.
¶Poet. What haue you now
¶To present vnto him?
¶Painter. Nothing at this time
2220An excellent Peece.
¶Tell him of an intent that's comming toward him.
¶Promising, is the verie Ayre o'th' Time;
2225It opens the eyes of Expectation.
¶Performance, is euer the duller for his acte,
¶And but in the plainer and simpler kinde of people,
¶The deede of Saying is quite out of vse.
2230Performance, is a kinde of Will or Testament
¶That makes it.
¶
Enter Timon from his Caue.
¶Timon. Excellent Workeman,
¶As is thy selfe.
¶Poet. I am thinking
¶With a Discouerie of the infinite Flatteries
¶That follow youth and opulencie.
¶Stand for a Villaine in thine owne Worke?
2245Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men?
¶Do so, I haue Gold for thee.
¶When we may profit meete, and come too late.
2250Painter. True:
¶When the day serues before blacke-corner'd night;
¶Finde what thou want'st, by free and offer'd light.
¶Come.
¶Tim. Ile meete you at the turne:
2255What a Gods Gold, that he is worshipt
¶In a baser Temple, then where Swine feede?
¶Setlest admired reuerence in a Slaue,
¶To thee be worshipt, and thy Saints for aye:
2260Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay.
¶Fit I meet them.
¶Poet. Haile worthy Timon.
¶Timon. Haue I once liu'd
¶Poet. Sir:
¶Hauing often of your open Bounty tasted,
¶Hearing you were retyr'd, your Friends falne off,
2270Not all the Whippes of Heauen, are large enough.
¶What, to you,
¶To their whole being? I am rapt, and cannot couer
¶The monstrous bulke of this Ingratitude
2275With any size of words.
¶Timon. Let it go,
¶Naked men may see't the better:
¶You that are honest, by being what you are,
¶Haue trauail'd in the great showre of your guifts,
¶And sweetly felt it.
¶Painter. We are hither come
2285To offer you our seruice.
¶Why how shall I requite you?
¶Can you eate Roots, and drinke cold water, no?
¶Both. What we can do,
2290Wee'l do to do you seruice.
¶Y'haue heard that I haue Gold,
2295Came not my Friend, nor I.
¶That thou art euen Naturall in thine Art.
¶But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)
¶You take much paines to mend.
¶To make it knowne to vs.
¶Tim. You'l take it ill.
¶Timon. Will you indeed?
¶Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord.
¶That mightily deceiues you.
2315Both. Do we, my Lord?
¶Tim. I, and you heare him cogge,
2320That he's a made-vp-Villaine.
¶Poet. Nor I.
¶Timon. Looke you,
¶I loue you well, Ile giue you Gold
2325Rid me these Villaines from your companies;
¶Hang them, or stab them, drowne them in a draught,
¶Ile giue you Gold enough.
¶Both. Name them my Lord, let's know them.
2330Tim. You that way, and you this:
¶But two in Company:
¶Each man a part, all single, and alone,
¶Yet an arch Villaine keepes him company:
¶If where thou art, two Villaines shall not be,
2335Come not neere him. If thou would'st not recide
¶But where one Villaine is, then him abandon.
¶Hence, packe, there's Gold, you came for Gold ye slaues:
¶You haue worke for me; there's payment, hence,
¶You are an Alcumist, make Gold of that:
2340Out Rascall dogges.
Exeunt
¶
Enter Steward, and two Senators.
¶That nothing but himselfe, which lookes like man,
2345Is friendly with him.
¶1.Sen. Bring vs to his Caue.
¶It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
¶To speake with Timon.
¶2.Sen. At all times alike
¶That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand,
¶Offering the Fortunes of his former dayes,
¶The former man may make him: bring vs to him
¶And chanc'd it as it may.
2355Stew. Heere is his Caue:
¶Peace and content be heere. Lord Timon, Timon,
¶Looke out, and speake to Friends: Th'Athenians
¶By two of their most reuerend Senate greet thee:
¶Speake to them Noble Timon.
2360
Enter Timon out of his Caue.
¶Tim. Thou Sunne that comforts burne,
¶Speake and be hang'd:
¶Be as a Cantherizing to the root o'th' Tongue,
¶1 Worthy Timon.
¶And you of Timon.
¶1 The Senators of Athens, greet thee Timon.
2370Tim. I thanke them,
¶And would send them backe the plague,
¶Could I but catch it for them.
¶1 O forget
2375The Senators, with one consent of loue,
¶Intreate thee backe to Athens, who haue thought
¶On speciall Dignities, which vacant lye
¶Which now the publike Body, which doth sildome
¶Play the re-canter, feeling in it selfe
¶A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall
¶Of it owne fall, restraining ayde to Timon,
¶Together, with a recompence more fruitfull
¶Then their offence can weigh downe by the Dramme,
¶As shall to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs,
2390And write in thee the figures of their loue,
¶Euer to read them thine.
¶Tim. You witch me in it;
¶Surprize me to the very brinke of teares;
¶Lend me a Fooles heart, and a womans eyes,
2395And Ile beweepe these comforts, worthy Senators.
¶And of our Athens, thine and ours to take
¶Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name
¶Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
¶Who like a Bore too sauage, doth root vp
¶His Countries peace.
2405Against the walles of Athens.
¶1 Therefore Timon.
¶If Alcibiades kill my Countrymen,
¶Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
2410That Timon cares not. But if he sacke faire Athens,
¶And take our goodly aged men by'th' Beards,
¶Giuing our holy Virgins to the staine
¶Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd warre:
¶Then let him know, and tell him Timon speakes it,
2415In pitty of our aged, and our youth,
¶I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
¶And let him tak't at worst: For their Kniues care not,
¶There's not a whittle, in th' vnruly Campe,
2420But I do prize it at my loue, before
¶The reuerends Throat in Athens. So I leaue you
¶To the protection of the prosperous Gods,
¶As Theeues to Keepers.
¶Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine.
2425Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
¶Of Health, and Liuing, now begins to mend,
¶And nothing brings me all things. Go, liue still,
¶Be Alcibiades your plague; you his,
¶Tim. But yet I loue my Country, and am not
¶One that reioyces in the common wracke,
¶As common bruite doth put it.
¶Tim. Commend me to my louing Countreymen.
¶row them.
¶2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers
2440In their applauding gates.
¶Tim. Commend me to them,
¶And tell them, that to ease them of their greefes,
¶Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes
¶In lifes vncertaine voyage, I will some kindnes do them,
¶Ile teach them to preuent wilde Alcibiades wrath.
¶1 I like this well, he will returne againe.
2450That mine owne vse inuites me to cut downe,
¶Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,
2455Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe,
¶And hang himselfe. I pray you do my greeting.
¶Finde him.
¶Vpon the Beached Verge of the salt Flood,
¶The turbulent Surge shall couer; thither come,
¶And let my graue-stone be your Oracle:
2465Lippes, let foure words go by, and Language end:
¶Graues onely be mens workes, and Death their gaine;
¶Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne.
¶
Exit Timon.
¶ture.
¶2 Our hope in him is dead: let vs returne,
¶And straine what other meanes is left vnto vs
¶In our deere perill.
¶
Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.
¶As full as thy report?
¶Mes. I met a Currier, one mine ancient Friend,
¶Whom though in generall part we were oppos'd,
¶Yet our old loue made a particular force,
2485And made vs speake like Friends. This man was riding
¶From Alcibiades to Timons Caue,
¶With Letters of intreaty, which imported
¶In part for his sake mou'd.
2490
Enter the other Senators.
¶1 Heere come our Brothers.
¶3 No talke of Timon, nothing of him expect,
¶The Enemies Drumme is heard, and fearefull scouring
¶Doth choake the ayre with dust: In, and prepare,
2495Ours is the fall I feare, our Foes the Snare.
Exeunt
¶
Enter a Souldier in the Woods, seeking Timon.
2500Some Beast reade this; There do's not liue a Man.
¶Dead sure, and this his Graue, what's on this Tomb,
¶I cannot read: the Charracter Ile take with wax,
¶Our Captaine hath in euery Figure skill;
¶An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes:
2505Before proud Athens hee's set downe by this,
¶Whose fall the marke of his Ambition is.
Exit.
¶
Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers
¶
before Athens.
2510Our terrible approach.
¶
Sounds a Parly.
¶
The Senators appeare vpon the wals.
¶Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time
¶With all Licentious measure, making your willes
¶Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd
¶When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong
¶With feare and horrid flight.
¶1.Sen. Noble, and young;
2525When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit,
¶We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme,
¶To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loues
¶Aboue their quantitie.
25302 So did we wooe
¶Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue
¶We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue
¶The common stroke of warre.
¶Were not erected by their hands, from whom
¶You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such,
¶For priuate faults in them.
25402 Nor are they liuing
¶Who were the motiues that you first went out,
¶Hath broke their hearts. March, Noble Lord,
¶Into our City with thy Banners spred,
2545By decimation and a tythed death;
¶If thy Reuenges hunger for that Food
¶Which Nature loathes, take thou the destin'd tenth,
¶And by the hazard of the spotted dye,
¶Let dye the spotted.
25501 All haue not offended:
¶On those that are, Reuenge: Crimes, like Lands
¶Are not inherited, then deere Countryman,
¶Bring in thy rankes, but leaue without thy rage,
2555Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin
¶With those that haue offended, like a Shepheard,
¶Approach the Fold, and cull th' infected forth,
¶But kill not altogether.
25602 What thou wilt,
¶Then hew too't, with thy Sword.
¶1 Set but thy foot
2565So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
¶To say thou't enter Friendly.
¶2 Throw thy Gloue,
¶Or any Token of thine Honour else,
2570And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers
¶Shall make their harbour in our Towne, till wee
¶Alc. Then there's my Gloue,
¶Defend and open your vncharged Ports,
2575Those Enemies of Timons, and mine owne
¶Fall and no more; and to attone your feares
¶With my more Noble meaning, not a man
2580Of Regular Iustice in your Citties bounds,
¶But shall be remedied to your publique Lawes
2585
Enter a Messenger.
¶Mes. My Noble Generall, Timon is dead,
¶Entomb'd vpon the very hemme o'th' Sea,
2590Interprets for my poore ignorance.
¶
Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.
¶Heere lies a wretched Coarse, of wretched Soule bereft,¶Seek not my name: A Plague consume you, wicked Caitifs left:¶Heere lye I Timon, who aliue, all liuing men did hate,
¶Though thou abhorrd'st in vs our humane griefes,
¶From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit
2600Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye
¶On thy low Graue, on faults forgiuen. Dead
¶Is Noble Timon, of whose Memorie
¶Heereafter more. Bring me into your Citie,
¶And I will vse the Oliue, with my Sword:
2605Make war breed peace; make peace stint war, make each
¶Prescribe to other, as each others Leach.
¶Let our Drummes strike.
Exeunt.
¶
FINIS.
¶
THE
2610
ACTORS
¶
NAMES.
¶TTYMON of Athens.
¶Lucius, And
¶Lucullus, two Flattering Lords.
¶Sempronius another flattering Lord.
¶Alcibiades, an Athenian Captaine.
¶Poet.
¶Painter.
2620Ieweller.
¶Merchant.
¶Certaine Senatours.
¶Certaine Maskers.
¶Certaine Theeues.
2625Flaminius, one of Tymons Seruants.
¶Seruilius, another.
¶Caphis. }
¶Varro. }
¶Philo. } Seuerall Seruants to Vsurers.
2630Titus. }
¶Lucius. }
¶Hortensis }
¶Ventigius. one of Tymons false Friends.
¶Cupid.
2635Sempronius.
¶With diuers other Seruants,
¶And Attendants.