Excerpt from Timon of Athens - anthology.

Excerpt from Timon of Athens - anthology. A stark bitter play by English dramatist William Shakespeare, Timon of Athens tells the story of the Athenian noble and his alienation from the society that he had formerly cherished. Having bankrupted himself through lavish generosity, Timon is shocked to discover that none of his former "friends" are willing to assist him in his plight. Disgusted by the selfishness and ingratitude of those around him, he turns his back on human society and goes into self-imposed exile, dwelling in a cave in the woods. In Act 4, Scene iii, Timon, still haunted by the hypocrisy of those who had once flattered him and sought his favor, is hunting for roots to eat when he uncovers a deposit of gold. He is then approached by a number of Athenian outcasts. The first to arrive is the Athenian general Alcibiades, banished from Athens for daring to plead for a convicted friend before the Senate, and his two mistresses, labeled as whores. Timon is then met by the cynical philosopher Apemantus, and next by a group of criminals. Timon's utter rejection of Athenian society, in particular its attitude towards both humanity and wealth, is vividly demonstrated in his free and indifferent disposal of gold to those whom society regards as reprobate. Finally Timon is visited by his loyal and honest servant Flavius. The servant's attempt at comfort comes too late, however, for Timon has by now embraced his identity as "Misanthropus." Rejecting humanity altogether, he is unable even to bear the society of "One honest man." Timon of Athens Act 4 Scene iii Enter Timon in the woods TIMON. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity. Below thy sister's orb Infect the air. Twinned brothers of one womb, Whose procreation, residence, and birth, Scarce is dividant--touch them with several fortunes, The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune But by contempt of nature. Raise me this beggar and deject that lord-- The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar native honour. It is the pasture lards the wether's sides, The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, In purity of manhood stand upright, And say, 'This man's a flatterer'? If one be, So are they all, for every grise of fortune Is smoothed by that below. The learned pate Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy; There's nothing level in our cursed natures But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorred All feasts, societies, and throngs of men. His semblable, yea himself; Timon disdains. Destruction fang mankind. Earth, yield me roots. He digs Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate With thy most operant poison. What is here? Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will make Black white, foul fair, wrong right, Base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! Why this? What, this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads. This yellow slave Will knit and break religions, bless th'accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench. This is it That makes the wappened widow wed again-- She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To th'April day again. Come, damned earth, Since riches point to misery an contempt? Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds Among the rout of nations, I will make thee Do thy right nature. March afar off Ha? A drum? Th' art quick, But yet I'll bury thee. Thou'lt go, strong thief, When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. Nay, stay thou out for earnest. He keeps some of the gold, and buries the rest Enter Alcibiades, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; and Phrynia and Timandra ALCIBIADES. What art thou there? Speak. TIMON. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart For showing me again the eyes of man! ALCIBIADES. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee That art thyself a man? TIMON. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something. ALCIBIADES. I know thee well; But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange. TIMON. I know thee too, and more than that I know thee I not desire to know. Follow thy drum. With man's blood paint the ground gules, gules. Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, For all her cherubin look. PHRYNIA. Thy lips rot off! TIMON. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns To thine own lips again. ALCIBIADES. How came the noble Timon to this change? TIMON. As the moon does, by wanting light to give. But then renew I could not like the moon; There were no suns to borrow of. ALCIBIADES. Noble Timon, What friendship may I do thee? TIMON. None, but to Maintain my opinion. ALCIBIADES. What is it Timon? TIMON. Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt promise, the gods plague thee, for Thou art a man. If thou dost not perform, Confound thee, for thou art a man. ALCIBIADES. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. TIMON. Thou sawest them when I had prosperity. ALCIBIADES. I see them now. Then was a blessed time. TIMON. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. TIMANDRA. Is this th'Athenian minion whom the world Voiced so regardfully? TIMON. Art thou Timandra? TIMANDRA. Yes. TIMON. Be a whore still. They love thee not that use thee. Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. Make use of thy salt hours. Season the slaves For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth To the tub-fast and the diet. TIMANDRA. Hang thee, monster! ALCIBIADES. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits Are drowned and lost in his calamities. I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, The want whereof doth daily make revolt In my penurious band. I have heard, and grieved, How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them-- TIMON. I prithee beat thy drum and get thee gone. ALCIBIADES. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. TIMON. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? I had rather be alone. ALCIBIADES. Here is some gold for thee. TIMON. Keep it, I cannot eat it. ALCIBIADES. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-- TIMON. Warrest thou 'gainst Athens? ALCIBIADES. Ay, Timon, and have cause. TIMON. The gods confound them all in thy conquest, And thee after, when thou hast conquered! ALCIBIADES. Why me, Timon? TIMON. That by killing of villains Thou wast born to conquer my country. Put up thy gold. Go on. Here's gold. Go on. Be as a planetary plague, when Jove Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison, In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one. Pity not honoured age for his white beard; He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron-- It is her habit only that is honest, Herself's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps That, through the window, bared, bore at men's eyes Are not within the leaf of pity writ, But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; Think it a bastard whom the oracle Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse. Swear against objects. Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes, Whose proof nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers. Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, Confounded be thyself. Speak not, be gone. ALCIBIADES. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou givest me, Not all thy counsel. TIMON. Dost thou or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee! PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more? TIMON. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts Your aprons mountant. You are not oathable, Although I know you'll swear, terribly swear, Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues Th'immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths; I'll trust to your conditions. Be whores still. And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you-- Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; Let your close fire predominate his smoke, And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains, six months, Be quite contrary; and thatch Your poor thin roofs with burdens of the dead-- Some that were hanged. No matter. Wear them, betray with them, whore still. Paint till a horse may mire upon your face. A pox of wrinkles! PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. Well, more gold. What then? Believe't that we'll do anything for gold. TIMON. Consumptions sow In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, That he may never more false title plead, Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen, That scolds against the quality of flesh And not believes himself. Down with the nose, Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away Of him that, his particular to foresee, Smells from the general weal. Make curled-pate ruffians bald, And let the unscarred braggarts of the war Derive some pain from you. Plague all, That your activity may defeat and quell The source of all erection. There's more gold. Do you damn others, and let this damn you, And ditches grave you all! PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. TIMON. More whore, more mischief first. I have given you earnest. ALCIBIADES. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon. If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. TIMON. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. ALCIBIADES. I never did thee harm. TIMON. Yes, thou spokest well of me. ALCIBIADES. Callest thou that harm? TIMON. Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take Thy beagles with thee. ALCIBIADES. We but offend him. Strike! Drum beats. Exeunt all but Timon TIMON. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, (he digs) Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast Teems and feeds all; whose selfsame mettle, Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puffed, Engenders the black toad and adder blue, The gilded newt and eyeless venomed worm, With all th'abhorred births below crisp heaven Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine-- Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root. Ensear thy fertile and conceptions womb, Let it no more bring out ingrateful man. Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears, Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above Never presented.--O, a root! Dear thanks!-- Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas, Whereof ingrateful man with liquorish draughts And morsels unctuous greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips-- Enter Apemantus More man? Plague, plague! APEMANTUS. I was directed hither. Men report Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. TIMON. 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee! APEMANTUS. This is in thee a nature but infected, A poor unmanly melancholy sprung From change of fortune. Why this spade? This place? This slave-like habit and these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft, Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive By that which has undone thee. Hinge thy knee, And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe Blow off thy cap. Praise his most vicious strain And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus. Thou gavest thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome, To knaves and all approachers. 'Tis most just That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness. TIMON. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself. APEMANTUS. Thou hast cast away thyself being like thyself A madman so long, now a fool. What, thinkest That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees, That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels And skip when thou pointest out? Will the cold brook, Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, To the conflicting elements exposed, Answer mere nature--bid them flatter thee. O, thou shalt find-- TIMON. A fool of thee. Depart. APEMANTUS. I love thee better now than e'er I did. TIMON. I hate thee worse. APEMANTUS. Why? TIMON. Thou flatterest misery. APEMANTUS. I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff. TIMON. Why dost thou seek me out? APEMANTUS. To vex thee. TIMON. Always a villain's office or a fool's. Dost please thyself in't? APEMANTUS. Ay. TIMON. What, a knave too? APEMANTUS. If thou didst put this sour cold habit on To castigate thy pride 'twere well; but thou Dost it enforcedly. Thou'dst courtier be again Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crowned before. The one is filling still, never complete, The other at high wish. Best state, contentless, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse than the worst, content. Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. TIMON. Not by his breath that is more miserable. Thou art a slave whom Fortune's tender arm With favour never clasped. But, bred a dog, Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded The sweet degrees that this brief world affords To such as may the passive. drudges of it Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself In general riot, melted down thy youth In different beds of lust, and never learned The icy precepts of respect, but followed The sugared game before thee. But myself-- Who had the world as my confectionary, The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men At duty, more than I could frame employment; That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare, For every storm that blows--I to bear this, That never knew but better, is some burden. Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? They never flattered thee. What hast thou given? If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, Must be thy subject; who in spite put stuff To some she-beggar and compounded thee Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone. If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. APEMANTUS. Art thou proud yet? TIMON. Ay, that I am not thee. APEMANTUS. I, that I was no prodigal. TIMON. I, that I am one now. Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. That the whole life of Athens were in this! Thus would I eat it. He eats a root APEMANTUS. Here, I will mend thy feast. He offers Timon food TIMON. First mend my company, take away thyself. APEMANTUS. So I shall mend mine own by th'lack of thine. TIMON. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botched. If not, I would it were. APEMANTUS. What wouldst thou have to Athens? TIMON. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If tou wilt, Tell me there I have gold. Look, so I have. APEMANTUS. Here is no use for gold. TIMON. The best and truest; For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. APEMANTUS. Where liest a-nights, Timon? TIMON. Under that's above me. Where feedest thou a-day, Apemantus? APEMANTUS. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it. TIMON. Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind! APEMANTUS. Where wouldst thou send it? TIMON. To sauce thy dishes. APEMANTUS. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extemity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much curiosity. In thy rags thou knowest none, but art despised for the contrary. There's a medlar or thee. Eat it. TIMON. On what I hate I feed not. APEMANTUS. Dost hate a medlar? TIMON. Ay, though it look like thee. APEMANTUS. An th' hadst meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? TIMON. Who, without those means thou talkest of; didst thou ever know beloved? APEMANTUS. Myself. TIMON. I understand thee: thou hadst some means to keep a dog. APEMANTUS. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers? TIMON. Women nearest. But men--men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? APEMANTUS. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. TIMON. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts? APEMANTUS. Ay, Timon. TIMON. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee. If thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee. If thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee when peradventure thou wert accused by the ass. If thou wert the ass, thy dullness would torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury. Wert thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse. Wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard. Wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou be that were not subject to a beast? And what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation! APEMANTUS. If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts. TIMON. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? APEMANTUS. Yonder comes a poet and a painter. The plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again. TIMON. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. APEMANTUS. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. TIMON. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! APEMANTUS. A plague on thee! Thou art too bad to curse. TIMON. All villains that do stand by thee are pure. APEMANTUS. There is no leprosy but what thou speakest. TIMON. If I name thee. I'll beat thee--but I should infect my hands. APEMANTUS. I would my tongue could rot them off. TIMON. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! Choler does kill me that thou art alive. I swoon to see thee. APEMANTUS. Would thou wouldst burst! TIMON. Away, thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee. He throws a stone at Apemantus APEMANTUS. Beast! TIMON. Slave! APEMANTUS. Toad! TIMON. Rogue, rogue, rogue! I am sick of this false world, and will love naught But even the mere necessities upon't. Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave. Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat Thy gravestone daily. Make thine epitaph, That death in me at others' lives may laugh. He addresses the gold O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce 'Twixt natural son and sire, thou bright defiler Of Hymen's purest bed, thou valiant Mars, Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer, Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow That lies on Dian's lap! Thou visible god, That sold'rest close impossibilities, And makest them kiss; that speakest with every tongue, To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue Set them into confounding odds, that beasts May have the world in empire. APEMANTUS. Would 'twere so! But not till I am dead. I'll say th' hast gold. Thou wilt be thronged to shortly. TIMON. Thronged to? APEMANTUS. Ay. TIMON. Thy back, I prithee. APEMANTUS. Live, and love thy misery. TIMON. Long live so, and so die! I am quit. Enter the Bandits APEMANTUS. More things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. Exit FIRST BANDIT. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy. SECOND BANDIT. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. THIRD BANDIT. Let us make the assay upon him. If he care not for't, he will supply us easily. If he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it? SECOND BANDIT. True; for he bears it not about him, 'Tis hid. FIRST BANDIT. Is not this he? THIRD BANDIT. Where? SECOND BANDIT. 'Tis his description. THIRD BANDIT. He. I know him. ALL THE BANDITS. Save thee, Timon. TIMON. Now, thieves? ALL THE BANDITS. Soldiers, not thieves. TIMON. Both two--and women's sons. ALL THE BANDITS. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. TIMON. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips; The bounteous housewife Nature on each bush Lays her full mess before you. Want? Why want? FIRST BANDIT. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, As beasts, and birds, and fishes. TIMON. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con That you are thieves professed, that you work not In holier shapes. For there is boundless theft In limited professions. Rascal thieves, Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o'th'grape Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, And so 'scape hanging. Trust not the physician; His antidotes are poison, and he slays More than you rob. Take wealth and lives together. Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't, Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea. The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun. The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears. The earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement. Each thing's a thief. The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Has unchecked theft. Love not yourselves. Away. Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats. All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, Break open shops--nothing can you steal But thieves do lose it. Steal less for this I give you, And gold confound you howsoe'er. Amen. THIRD BANDIT. 'Has almost charmed me from my profession by persuading me to it. FIRST BANDIT. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mystery. SECOND BANDIT. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. FIRST BANDIT. Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no time so miserable but a man may be true. Exeunt Bandits