Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)

    82Timon of Athens.

    Like Madnesse is the glory of this life,
    As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote.
    480We make our selues Fooles, to disport our selues,
    And spend our Flatteries, to drinke those men,
    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:
    I should feare, those that dance before me now,
    Would one day stampe vpon me: 'Tas bene done,
    Men shut their doores against a setting Sunne.

    490The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and
    to shew their loues, each single out an Amazon, and all
    Dance, men with women, a loftie straine or two to the
    Hoboyes, and cease.

    Tim. You haue done our pleasures
    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.
    1 Lord. My Lord you take vs euen at the best.
    Aper. Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold
    taking, I doubt me.
    Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
    505Please you to dispose your selues.
    All La. Most thankfully, my Lord. Exeunt.
    Tim. Flauius.
    Fla. My Lord.
    Tim. The little Casket bring me hither.
    510Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Iewels yet?
    There is no crossing him in's humor,
    Else I should tell him well, yfaith I should;
    When all's spent, hee'ld be crost then, and he could:
    'Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,
    515That man might ne're be wretched for his minde. Exit.
    1 Lord. Where be our men?
    Ser. Heere my Lord, in readinesse.
    2 Lord. Our Horses.
    Tim. O my Friends:
    520I haue one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L.
    I must intreat you honour me so much,
    As to aduance this Iewell, accept it, and weare it,
    Kinde my Lord.
    1 Lord. I am so farre already in your guifts.
    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.
    Fla. I beseech your Honor, vouchsafe me a word, it
    does concerne you neere.
    Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee.
    I prythee let's be prouided to shew them entertainment.
    535Fla. I scarse know how.
    Enter another Seruant.
    Ser. May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius
    (Out of his free loue) hath presented to you
    Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Siluer.
    540Tim. I shall accept them fairely: let the Presents
    Be worthily entertain'd.
    Enter a third Seruant.
    How now? What newes?
    3.Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentle-
    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.
    His promises flye so beyond his state,
    That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for eu'ry word:
    He is so kinde, that he now payes interest for't;
    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
    Tim. You do your selues much wrong,
    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.
    3.Lord. O he's the very soule of Bounty.
    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.
    1.L. Oh, I beseech you pardon mee, my Lord, in that.
    Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no
    575man can iustly praise, but what he does affect. I weighe
    my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true,
    Ile call to you.
    All Lor. O none so welcome.
    Tim. I take all, and your seuerall visitations
    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
    585Is mong'st the dead: and all the Lands thou hast
    Lye in a pitcht field.
    Alc. I, defil'd Land, my Lord.
    1.Lord. We are so vertuously bound.
    Tim. And so am I to you.
    5902.Lord. So infinitely endeer'd.
    Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights.
    1.Lord. The best of Happines, Honor, and Fortunes
    Keepe with you Lord Timon.
    Tim. Ready for his Friends. Exeunt Lords
    595Aper. What a coiles heere, seruing of beckes, and iut-
    ting out of bummes. I doubt whether their Legges be
    worth the summes that are giuen for 'em.
    Friendships full of dregges,
    Me thinkes false hearts, should neuer haue sound legges.
    600Thus honest Fooles lay out their wealth on Curtsies.
    Tim. Now Apermantus (if thou wert not sullen)
    I would be good to thee.
    Aper. No, Ile nothing; for if I should be brib'd too,
    there would be none left to raile vpon thee, and then thou
    605wouldst sinne the faster. Thou giu'st so long Timon (I
    feare me) thou wilt giue away thy selfe in paper shortly.
    What needs these Feasts, pompes, and Vaine-glories?