University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

A publick place in the City.
Enter a Senator.
SENATOR.
And late, five thousand: to Varro, and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum;
Which makes it five and twenty.—Still in motion
Of raging waste. It cannot hold, it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy ten more
Better than he; why, give my horse to Timon;
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me straight
Ten able horses. No porter at his gate;
But rather one that smiles, and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, hoa!
Caphis, I say.

Enter Caphis.
Cap.
Here, Sir, what is your pleasure?

Sen.
Get on your cloke, and haste you to lord Timon,
Importune him for monies, be not ceast
With slight denial; nor then silenc'd with
‘Commend me to your master’—and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus:—but tell him, sirrah,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
And my reliance on his fracted dates
Has smit my credit. I love and honour him;
But must not break my back, to heal his finger.
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be tost and turn'd to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone.
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand: for I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon wilt be left a naked gull,
Who flashes now a Phœnix—get you gone.

Cap.
I go, Sir.

Sen.
I go, Sir?—take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in compt.

Cap.
I will, Sir.

Sen.
Go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

An apartment in Timon's house.
Lucius and Evanthe.
Luc.
“Two tedious years are past, since I have sigh'd
“In secret, and consum'd away with love
“Of fair Evanthe: is it much to ask
“A moment's patience?—On my knees I beg it.

Evan.
“Rise, rise, my Lord, you wrong your state too much:
“Doubt not you have my love; all that are friends
“To Timon have my love; and you the most;
“For you are inmost with his heart, and guide
“Those springs that put his bounty into action.
“You are no flatterer, you, to hug him close
“And hood-wink him with kisses, till he strikes
“The rocks and shallows, where his fortunes perish.

Luc.
“Who doubts my friendship?

Evan.
“Perish he that doubts it!
“You are not like the false ones of the world,
“Who, when the veering winds forsake their quarter,
“Turn from his worshipt side, where late they hung,
“And like the ebbing and unsteady waves,
“Fall back and leave him bare.

Luc.
“Enough of this;
“I pray you hear me now.

Evan.
“Your pardon, Sir.
“Do I not know your most uncommon virtue?
“And with what constancy you entertain
“The various gifts his bounty has shower'd on you,
“But as the untouch'd pledges of his love;
“Ready to deal them back with such addition,
“As grows in generous minds, when his necessities
“Shall challenge restitution. Would'st thou not
“Do all, give all for my dear father's sake?
[Lucullus enters.]
“Why here's Lucullus too; a worthy Lord:
“How can I chuse but prize such equal friends?
“Of this be both assur'd, such love as each
“To Timon bears, bear I to him. Farewel.

[Exit Evanthe.

SCENE III.

Lucius and Lucullus.
“Lucul.
How now, my Lord; in private?

“Luc.
Yes, I thought so,
“Till an unwelcome, intermedling Lord
“Stept in and ask'd the question.

“Lucul.
What, in anger?
“By Heav'ns I'll gall him; for he stands before me
“In the broad sunshine of Lord Timon's bounty,
“And throws my better merits into shade.

[aside.
“Luc.
Now would I kill him, if I durst.

[aside.
“Lucul.
Methinks
“You look but coldly: What has crost your suit?
“Alas, poor Lucius! but I read your fate
“In that unkind one's frown.

Luc.
“No doubt, my Lord,
“You that receive them ever, are well vers'd
“In that unkind one's frowns; as the clear stream
“Reflects your person, so may you espy
“In the sure mirrour of her scornful brow
“The clouded picture of your own despair.

Lucul.
“Come, you presume too far: talk not thus idly
“To me that know you.

Luc.
“Know me?

Lucul.
“Ay, that know you,
“For one that courses up and down on errands,
“A stale retainer at Lord Timon's table;
“A man grown great by making legs and cringes,
“By winding round a wanton spendthrift's heart,
“And gulling him at pleasure. Now, do I know you?

Luc.
“Gods! must I bear this, bear it from Lucullus?
“I, who first brought thee to Lord Timon's stirrup,
“Set thee in sight, and breath'd into thy ear
“The breath of hope? What had'st thou been, ingrateful,
“But that I took up Jove's imperfect work,
“Gave thee a shape, and made thee into man?

SCENE IV.

Alcibiades to them.
Alcib.
“What, wrangling, Lords; like hungry curs for crusts?
“Away with this unmanly war of words!
“Pluck forth your shining rapiers from their shells,
“And level boldly at each other's heart!
“Hearts, did I say?—But they are gone from home,
“And hid in Timon's coffers—Fie upon it!

Luc.
“My Lord Lucullus, I shall find a time.

Alcib.
“Hah! find a time?—The brave make time and place:
“Gods, Gods! what things are men? You'll find a time?
“A time for what? To murder him in's sleep?—
“The man, who wrongs me, at the altar's foot
“I'll seize, yea drag him from the shelt'ring ægis
“Of stern Minerva.

Luc.
“Ay, 'tis your profession.

Alc.
“Down on your knees, and thank the gods for that;
“Or woe for Athens! was it left for such
“As you are to defend. Do ye not hate
“Each other heartily? yet neither dares
“To bare his trembling falchion to the sun:
“How tame they dangle on your coward thighs!

Lucul.
“We are no soldiers, Sir.

Alc.
“No, ye are Lords:
“A lazy, proud, unprofitable crew,
“The vermin, gender'd from the rank corruption
“Of a luxurious state.—No soldiers, say you?
“And wherefore are ye none? Have you not life,
“Friends, honour, freedom, country to defend?
“He that has these by nature is a soldier,
“And, when he weilds his sword in their defence,
“Instinctively fulfills the end he lives for.
“What then are ye? Hence, and avoid my sight.
[Exeunt Lucius and Lucullus
Alcibiades.
“Gods! that such triflers shou'd be call'd Athenians:
“O great Minerva, patroness of Athens,
“How is our fathers antient spirit fled!
“By heav'ns I'll strait betake me to Lord Timon
“And free him from these harpies—Hah! Evanthe?—

SCENE V.

Alcibiades and Evanthe.
Alc.
“Lady, your noble father's grossly wrong'd:
“His fortune breeds a swarm of summer flies,
“Whose filthy buzzing fills his ears a-while,
“Till with the first cold blast that nips his blossoms,
“The flutt'ring insects take the wing, and leave him.

Evan.
“'Tis Lucius and Lucullus, whom you point at.

Alc.
“Chiefly at them, for they were last in sight;
“And 'tis but now I scar'd the drones away.

Evan.
“For that I am to thank you; my tir'd ears
“Had else been tortur'd with their dreams of love.

Alc.
“Their love? with Lucius, with Lucullus love?
“How sleeps the thunder when men scale the heavens!
“Yet who can see such beauty and not love?
“Our hearts must tell it, tho' our tongues keep silence.

Evan.
“Nay, my good Lord, no more of this, I pray you.
“She, who inspires thee with a private passion,
“Must be her country's foe.

Alc.
“Oh say not that—
“Must then your soldier toil without reward?
“Beauty, that son of bliss, that lights the world,
“And love, that lifts us equal to the gods,
“Say must these blessings be reserv'd alone
“To the soft sons of peace? Then war farewel!
“Take they who will, the chearless trade of arms,
“I envy not such honourable folly.

Evan.
“Yes, you have words to make each cause your own,
“Lips, which your master Socrates has tun'd
“To sounds, that soften, and persuade the soul:
“Oh, you're an apt disciple.

Alc.
“You mistake me;
“I am no courtier; have no wit, no cunning
“To wrap your heart in flattery's silken snare
“And hook it gently in, as some can do,
“Home-keeping youths, the idlers of the age,
“Smooth summer fops, that line your father's table
“With fashionable follies.—I've no art
“To pay your virtue reverence with my eyes,
“And wrong it with my heart; such as I am,
“Such nature form'd me; philosophic aid
“Nor gives, nor takes away; of nought I boast
“Save of a faithful, pure, and ardent love

Evan.
“O my caught heart, ah! whither wou'd you lead me?
“But come, my Lord, the hall begins to fill;
“If you'll commit yourself to such society
“As my poor thoughts can furnish, a short hour
“Frees you, and brings my father from the chace.”

[Exeunt.
SCENE V continues.
Enter Flavius with many bills in his hand.
Flav.
No care, no stop—so senseless of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot? Takes no account
How things go from him, and resumes no care
Of what is to continue: never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done?—He will not hear, till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting
Fy, fy, fy, fy.

[Exit.
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.
Cap.
Good evening! what, you come for money?

Var.
Is't not your business too?

Cap.
It is; and yours too?

Isid.
It is so.

Cap.
Would we were all discharg'd.

Var.
I fear it.

Cap.
Here comes the Lord.

Enter Timon, and his train, with Flavius
Tim.
So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again.
—Well, what's your will?

[They present their bills.
Cap.
My Lord, here is a note of certain dues.

Tim.
Dues? whence are you?

Cap.
Of Athens here, my Lord.

Tim.
Go to my steward.

Cap.
Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days, this month:
My master is awak'd by great occasion,
To call upon his own; and humbly prays you,
That with your other noble parts you'll suit,
In giving him his right.

Tim.
My honest friend,
I pr'ythee but repair to me next morning.

Cap.
Nay, good my Lord.

Tim.
Contain thyself, good friend.

Var.
One Varro's servant, my good Lord—

Isid.
From Isidore, he prays your speedy payment—

Cap.
If you did know, my Lord, my master's wants—

Var.
'Twas due on forfeiture, my Lord, six weeks, and past—

Isid.
Your steward puts me off, my Lord, and I
Am sent expressly to your Lordship.

Tim.
Give me breath:—
I do beseech you, good my Lords, keep on,
[Ex. Lords.
I'll wait upon you instantly.—Come hither:
How goes the world, that I am thus encountred
With clam'rous demands of broken bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?

Flav.
Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business:
Your importunity cease, till after dinner;
That I may make his Lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim.
Do so, my friends; see them well entertain'd.

Flav.
Pray you, away!

[Exeunt creditors.
Tim.
You make me marvel: wherefore, ere this time,
Had you not fully laid my state before me?
That I might so have rated my expence,
As I had leave of means.

Flav.
You would not hear me:
At many leisures I propos'd.

Tim.
Go to:
Perchance, some single vantages you took,
When my indisposition put you back:
And that unaptness made you minister
Thus to excuse yourself.

Flav.
O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine honesty;
When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
Return so much, I've shook my head, and wept;
Yea, 'gainst th' authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close. I did endure
Not seldom, nor no slight checks; when I have
Prompted you in the ebb of your estate,
And your great flow of debts. My dear lov'd Lord,
Though you hear now too late, yet now's a time;
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.

Tim.
Let all my land be sold.

Flav.
'Tis all engag'd, some forfeited and gone:
And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues.

Tim.
To Lacedæmon did my land extend.

Flav.
O my good Lord, the world is but a world;
Were it all yours, to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone!

Tim.
You tell me true.

Flav.
If you suspect my husbandry,
Call me before th' exactest auditors,
And set me on the proof. So the Gods bless me,
When all our offices have been opprest
With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine; when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsie,
I have retir'd me to a lonely corner,
And set my eyes at flow.

Tim.
Pr'ythee, no more.

Flav.
Heav'ns! have I said, the bounty of this Lord!
How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
This night englutted! who now is not Timon's?
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon's?
Ah! when the means are gone, that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
These flies are coucht.

Tim.
Come, sermon me no further,
No villainous bounty yet hath past my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
Why dost thou weep? canst thou the conscience lack,
To think I shall lack friends? secure thy heart;
If I would broach the vessels of my love,
And try the arguments of hearts by borrowing,
Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use,
As I can bid thee speak.

Flav.
Assurance bless your thoughts!

Tim.
And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd,
That I account them blessings; for by these
Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you
Mistake my fortunes: in my friends I'm wealthy.
Within there, Ho! Flaminius, Servilius!

Enter Flaminius, Servilius, and other servants.
Serv.

My Lord, my Lord.

Tim.
I will dispatch you sev'rally.

You to Lord Lucius—to Lord Lucullus you,—you to
Sempronius—commend me to their loves; and I am
proud, say, that my occasions have found time to use
'em toward a supply of money; let the request be
fifty talents.

Flam.
As you have said, my Lord.

Flav.
Lord Lucius and Lucullus? humph!

Tim.
Go, you, Sir, to the senators;
[to Flavius.]
Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
Deserv'd this hearing; bid 'em send o'th' instant
A thousand talents to me.

Flav.
I've been bold,
(For that I knew it the most general way)
To them to use your signet and your name;
But they do shake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.

Tim.
Is't true? can't be?

Flav.
They answer in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
Do what they would; are sorry—You are honourable—
And so intending other serious matters,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods,
They froze me into silence.

Tim.
You Gods reward them!
I pr'ythee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows,
And nature, as it grows again tow'rd earth,
Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.
Go to Ventidius—pr'ythee, be not sad,
Thou'rt true, and just; ingenuously I speak,
No blame belongs to thee: Ventidius lately
Bury'd his father, by whose death he's stepp'd
Into a great estate; when he was poor,
Imprison'd, and in scarcity of friends,
I clear'd him with five talents. Greet him from me;
Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd
With those five talents. That had, give't these fellows,
To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think
That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.

Stew.
Would, I could not: that thought is bounty's foe;
Being free itself, it thinks all others so.

[Exeunt.