University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE changes to the Walls of Athens.
Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.
1 Sen.
Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files
As full as thy report?

Mes.
I have spoke the least,
Besides his expedition promises
Present approach.

2 Sen.

We stand much hazard, if they bring not
Timon.

Enter the other Senators.
1 Sen.
Here come our brothers.

3 Sen.
No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect—
The enemies drum is heard, and fearful scowring
Doth choak the air with dust. In and prepare;
Our's is the fall, I fear, our foes the snare.

[Exeunt in the Gate.
Trumpet sound. Enter Alcibiades with his powers.
Alc.
Sound to this coward and lascivious town
Our terrible approach.
[Sound a parley. Senators appear upon the walls.
“Oh! have I rouz'd you?
“Your banish'd soldier is return'd, my Lords,
“And vengeance now must work.

1 Sen.
“Speak your desires.

Alc.
“Bring forth Evanthe, noble Timon's daughter,
“Set her before me. By the Gods, rash men,
“If ye have dar'd to touch her sacred life,
“I'll tread your cursed city into dust
“And bury you in the ruins.

2 Sen.
“Noble Sir,
“Here is the Lady ready to come forth;
“(Give her safe conduct there!) and we do hope
“She'll prove a gentle advocate with thee
“To stir thy noble heart unto forgiveness:”
We sent to thee to give thy rages balm
To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
Above its quantity.

1 Sen.
So did we woo
Transformed Timon to our city's love,
By humble message and by promis'd meads:
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

3 Sen.
Set but thy foot
Against our rampir'd gates, and they shall ope
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before
To say thou'lt enter friendly.

(Evanthe enters.)
Alc.
“Hah, she comes,—
“Hail, loveliest, dearest maid;
“Oh, grant thy soldier to repay his toils
“With this one fond embrace.

Evan.
“Thus, on my knees,
“I thank the Gods and thee, and thus beseech thee,
“O spare thy country, spare the reverend Senate,
“Spare this repentant city.” These our walls
Were not erected by their hands, from whom
We have received our griefs; nor are they such,
That these great tow'rs, trophies, and schools shou'd fall
For private faults in them.

Alc.
“Sweet pleader, rise!
“Hear ye this, Sirs?”

1 Sen.
March on, dear countryman,
Into our city with thy banners spread:
Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage:
Spare thy Athenian cradle; like a shepherd
Approach the fold, and cull the infected forth,
But kill not all together.

2 Sen.
Throw thy glove,
Or any token of thine honour else,
That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress,
And not as our confusion; all thy powers
Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
Have seal'd thy full desire.

Alc.
Then there's my glove;
Descend and open your uncharged ports,
Those enemies of Timon, and mine own,
Whom ye yourselves shall set out for reproof,
Fall, and no more; and to atone your fears
With my more noble meaning, not a man
Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
But shall be remedied by public laws
At heaviest answer.

Both.
'Tis most nobly spoken.

Alc.
Descend, and keep your words.

Evan.
“—'Tis done! my country can demand no more;
“Now, nature, I am thine.

Alc.
“What means Evanthe?

Evan.
“I've sav'd a city; grant me now, kind Gods,
“To save a father. Give me instant convoy
“To the lone wilds where wretched Timon haunts,
“And with the howling savages consorts
“The exile of mankind.

Alc.
“See, where the senate
“Expect us at their gates: enter with me,
“And all due terms of reconcilement ended,
“Myself will be your guide.

Evan.
“Forbid it, Heaven!
“Too much already have I given to Athens:
“My heart is gone before to Timon's cave;
“And I must follow it.

Alc.
“Yet e're we part,
“The hope, to which your looks, your words, gave life,
“Bid it grow up and multiply within me:
“Oh, take from piety a moment's truce,
“And once again with soft consenting smiles
“Tell me Evanthe will be only mine.

Evan.
“O covetous in love; possessing all
“Which my fond heart can give, dost thou require
“That I shou'd tell it to thee o'er and o'er,
“While with a miser's transport thou enjoy'st
“The contemplation of thy own success?
“Yield to the time; a father claims me now;
“Sacred to him let me preserve this hour,
“Nor take from nature what I give to thee.

[Exit.
Alc.
“Pausanias, take thy guard; follow Evanthe,
“And spread with care thy troop around the wood
“Where Timon harbours; give the word for Athens.

(Alcibiades enters the city with his army.)
SCENE changes to a Street in Athens.
Lucullus
enters.
“Let the storm light upon improvident man!
“I saw it in the wind. Let Athens blaze;
“Let Alcibiades with brutal rage
“Extinguish this fair scene, and these fam'd schools,
“Towers, temples, palaces, convert to dust;
“Lucullus built not on such sandy hopes;
“But as the wary falcon hangs her nest
“Where danger cannot reach it, so did I,
“Prophetic of this hour, dispose my fortune
“Where the sun never looks, within the womb
“Of mother earth, deep hid, a mine of gold,
“A magazine to save or sack a city,
“The fruit of seven years bounty from this Timon
“With all my thrift cou'd add—Good morrow, Caphis.

Caphis enters.
Caph.
“Here's a sad change; all's lost—myself beheld
“Your palace flaming.

Lucul.
“Knowing this, good Caphis,
“I know the worst—What bring you from Lord Timon?

Caph.
“Contempt and mockery; he's too proud to curse you.

Lucul.
“Took he the gold I sent?

Caph.
“He took your gold
“And scattered it like ashes; why 'twas nothing;
“Breast high in coin he stands, I think the Gods
“Have show'r'd it on him; never did I see
“So vast a treasure.

Lucul.
“Hah! a treasure sayst thou?
“Did I hear right; hath Timon found a treasure?

Caph.
“He hath, my Lord; and such an one it seems
“As betters his lost fortune.

Lucul.
“You confound me;
“Where was this mine discover'd? Tell me, Caphis.
“Canst thou describe the spot?

Caph.
“Know you the wood
“West of the city, where Lord Timon keeps
“His wild and savage haunt?

Lucul.
“Well, Caphis, well;
“Proceed, I know it well; each brake and bramble;
“Each little path that threads its winding way
“Thro' the fantastic maze, I can unravel
“Familiar as my garden.

Caph.
“On the skirts
“Of this rude waste within a lonely dell,
“With poplars and with aspins planted round,
“Sacred to Faunus stands a Sylvan fane
“An antique structure.

Lucul.
“Did he find it there?
“I am alive again.

Caph.
“Observe me well:
“South of this fane, about an arrow's flight,
“A solitary beech, whose upmost boughs,
“Mould'ring with age, in leafless ruin hang,
“The grandsire of the forest, stands—

Lucul.
“Enough.
“It is my treasure; you've describ'd the spot—
“It is my treasure; these providings hands
“Dug the unfaithful soil and at the root
“Of that old traitor buried all my hopes.

Caph.
“Your treasure?—Fortune, how severe thou art!

Lucul.
“These are your doings, ye vindictive Gods!
“I see you rise against ingratitude,
“And push us from the earth; I have deserv'd it.
“Timon, thou art revenged—Death, be my refuge!

[Exeunt.
Lucius
enters muffled.
“Soft, who goes there? Lucullus, as I think;
“I have no heart to speak. Where shall I hide?
“What hill will cover, or what cave conceal
“A wretch like me? Wou'd I were Timon's dog
“Rather than what I am—Egregious dotard!
Various Soldiers of Alcibiades enter, carrying plate, treasure, &c.
“How now, what's here? O poison to my sight!
“These are my treasures—Lost, undone for ever.
“See, see another yet, and yet another—
“By heavens the very cup which I did worship
“More reverently than the Gods—It was the work
“Of antique Melidorus, fit to bear
“Celestial Nectar from the ministring hand
“Of Hebe to the lips of Cretan Jove.
“Swallow me, earth—Oh, the unholy villains,
“They pause for breath; they'll kill me if I speak to 'em.
[They pass over.
“But soft! this man seems of a gentler sort:
“He is a stranger of the General's train
“And knows me not. I may accost him safely.
“The good hour to you, Sir—I pray you now
“Whence are these riches?

Sold.
Do you live in Athens,
“And ask that question? Know you not one Lucius?

Luc.
“I've seen the man.

Sold.
“Then you have seen a villain,
“A most dissembling, base, unmanly villain.
“Wou'd I cou'd meet him—

Luc.
“Wou'd you slay him then?

Sold.
“No, but the sight of these his treasures wou'd:
“We've stript the knave to the skin; he did deny
“Lord Timon certain vile and sorry drachms
“In his distress; now Timon's star prevails,
“And justice wrings these treasures from the gripe
“Of that perfidious, that ingrateful Lucius.

Luc.
“Men in all ages have been found ingrateful.

Sold.
“But none like him; society bleeds for it.

Luc.
“Hath Athens then a law to try the heart?

Sold.
“The order of the General is our law.

Luc.
“But is there nothing sav'd?

Sold.
“All, all is swept
“To the last drachm; pictures, statues, coins,
“Rich hangings, couches, vestments wrought with gold,
“And robes of Tyrian dye; plate, jewels, gems—
“Is't not a pleasant jest? Why laugh you not?
“You only seem of all men to be sad.

Luc.
“I cry you mercy; I am wondrous merry—
[Feigns a laugh
“I've heard he had a ring, a most rare jewel,
“Is that gone too?

Sold.
“Behold!

[Shewing the ring
Luc.
“Ay, 'tis the same.

Sold.
“Mark, what a play! 'tis a most perfect stone.

Luc.
“Wou'd 'twere a basilisk!—must this away
“To Timon's with the rest?

Sold.
“Yes, and 'tis time
“That it were there—Good morrow, gentle Sir.

Luc.
“Curse on your courtesy!

[aside.
Sold.
“I'm glad you like
“The ring so well: If you should meet the knave,
“Tell him the prize we've got, and gird him well,
“I know 'twill give you pleasure: All men loath him.
“Be sure you wring him to the quick—remember.

[Exit
Luc.
“Remember! yes: no fear but I'll remember.
“You've giv'n me cause; the Gods, who deal in vengeance,
“Reward you for it! I could dash my brains,
“For that way only can I 'scape remembrance.
“O nature, what a luckless piece of work was man!

[Exit.
SCENE.
The prospect of a rude wild country, to a considerable extent, with the ruins of a temple to Faunus, Timon is discovered at the extremity of the stage led in by Flavius: At the same time Evanthe enters at the front, surveys him some time, and while he slowly advances, speaks.
Evan.
“O spectacle of sorrow! Mighty Gods,
“Is that my father?—is that mournful ruin,
“That bare and blasted trunk the spreading vine,
“Beneath whose shade late a whole nation sat
“And feasted from its branches? Hold, my heart:
“Sink not, my knees, beneath your weight of woe,
“But bear me to his feet—My Lord, my father!

[She kneels.
Timon.
“Rise, rise, my daughter—do I once again
“Enfold thee in my arms? Alas, my child,
“I'm old and weak and smitten sore with grief.
“Gods, how ingratitude lays waste your works!
“Unkindness, like another deadly plague,
“Strikes all below the moon; creation groans;
“Nature with more than mother's pangs brings forth
“Her thankless offspring man.

Evan.
“All shall be well.

Timon.
“All, all is well, for thou art in my sight,
“Mute as these scenes and calm as summer seas,
“Here will we sit and meditate a while,
“Then die and be at peace.

Evan.
“Oh! talk not thus.

Timon.
“Give me your pardon; I have suffer'd much,
“And much I fear sorrow has shook my wits;
“But in the bitterest moments of affliction,
“I have remember'd still to bless my child.

Evan.
“O bless me not in part, compleat my joy,
“Return to me, to Athens, to thyself,
“And these base emblems of thy discontent
“Like the Nessean garment cast away,
“And be at peace with a repentant world.

Tim.
“Can I, who from the depth of hell have call'd
“Malignant spirits to ensnare mankind,
“I, who each night upon the lonely strand
“By the sea brink, or in this silent waste
“Have stood and bandied curses to the moon,
“Till the grey dawn look'd out; can I now teach
“That voice, which execration has made hoarse,
“The smooth soft notes of peace? will nature pardon,
“That common mother, in whose patient bosom
“I have stuck iron goads?—It will not be.

Flav.
“Move him no more, dear Lady, 'tis in vain.

Tim.
“Yet I had cause—Speak, Flavius, thou art honest,
“And wilt not flatter, had I not full cause?

Flav.
“May the just Gods, who know thy wrongs, revenge 'em!

Tim.
Hush, hush! no more of that—We must be calm;
“Shatter'd with storms, at length I see my port,
“And stretch for death's calm shore—Rejoice, my child,
“Thy father's sufferings hasten to an end,
“And life and care shall terminate together.

Evan.
Alas, my father, talk not in this strain;
“Bright years of glory rise to crown thy hopes;
“Great Alcibiades defends thy cause,
“The suppliant Senate come to kiss thy feet,
“Loaded with treasure, while repentant Athens
“From all her gates pours forth unnumber'd crowds,
“To hail thy glad return.

Tim.
“—Why let them come!
“Shou'd Alcibiades to please old Timon,
“Burn Athens to a heap, crush the proud Senate,
“And swallow that vile swarm of summer friends,
“That left him bare to shame; shall Timon say
“I thank thee, Sir, for this great courtesy?
“Shall man say this to man, who in pure love
“And singleness of heart ne'er stirs his hand
“To aid his suffering fellow?

Evan.
“Nay, that's hard.

Tim.
“Rather let Timon say, I have a daughter
“Beauteous and young, and fair as unsun'd lilies;
“Your eye has drank her charms, and strong desire
“Knocks at your heart, therefore let Athens burn;
“Spare not a man that e'er spake Timon's name
“But in the way of worship—Oh, 'tis great,
“'Tis glorious friendship in his daughter's arms.

Evan.
“That daughter is no idle wanton, Sir,
“To doat on every form that courts the eye;
“Tho' nature fashion'd him with every grace
“Which the joint bounty of the Gods cou'd give him,
“Yet Alcibiades had pass'd unnotic'd,
“With Lucius and Lucullus, and the herd
“Of common flatterers, were he that base thing,
“Which your description paints him.

Tim.
“Soft you now;
“He is a man, and Flavius is no more;
“Yet he is honest, and you'll say, another
“May be so too—Two honest men, ye Gods!—
“Can there be two? I know you can do much,
“Ye great Divinities! therefore I say,
“It may be so; but mark me well, my child,
“I vouch it not; that were indeed too much.

Evan.
“Does Heav'n cloath falsehood in celestial robes?
“See where he comes. Who can survey that form,
“And doubt if honour dwells in such a shrine?
“Yes, in each glance, each gesture it appears,
“Lives in his tongue, and lightens in his eye,
“Pervades, inspires, and occupies his soul.

Alcibiades enters.
Alcib.
“Health to thee, noble Timon! health and fame,
“Peace and fair fortune! The Athenian Senate,
“Stung with remorse and shame, present themselves,
“Entreating your return with them to Athens.

Tim.
“Say to the Senate, you have seen me die;
“Timon is now now more; here lies their prey.
[He sinks down on the steps of the temple, being supported in his fall by Evanthe and Flavius.
“The stout old hart they've cours'd so long in view,
“Dead, dead you see, and fairly hunted down.

Alcib.
“Much injur'd Timon, they have seen their faults,
“Their former thriftiness they have cast from them;
“And now their coffers, like their hearts, stand open
“To your free use.

Tim.
“Alas, kind-hearted men!
“Oh! they are cunning murderers; fine the wound,
“And hard to trace; where sharp unkindness strikes,
“Therefore they say I am not struck at all;
“But Heav'n rejects their plea, and in my heart
“Sees the dire arrow rankle.

Alcib.
“Live, oh live!
“Shake off despair and live, most worthy Timon;
“See on all sides my soldiers fence thee round.
“Athens I've humbled to thy meanest use,
“And driv'n to shameful flight that loathsome crew,
“Whose black ingratitude corrodes thy heart.

Tim.
And what in recompence can Timon give
“To Alcibiades?

Alcib.
“More than the Gods did,
“When they gave life; thou can'st bestow Evanthe.

Evan.
“O Alcibiades, forbear to urge
“At this sad hour thy inauspicious suit:
“Hence must we date our nuptials? this a time
“To ask a blessing in? this awful moment,
“For mourning, for misfortune only fit,
“Can this be happy when a father dies?

Timon.
“No more: give me your hands; come on each side:
“The overshadowing heavens shower down upon you
“Infinite blessings; make you one in heart,
“In mind, faith, truth, contentment! shun mankind:
“Live to yourselves and to the Gods alone.

Evan.
“Break, break, my heart!

Timon.
“Weep not for me, my child; death is my cure,
“Life my disease. Son, daughter, friend, farewell.
“Bring not my corps within the walls of Athens,
“But lay me on the very hem of the sea,
“Where the vast Neptune may for ever weep
“On my low grave—Remember—Oh! 'tis past.

[Dies.
Evan.
“There fled his spirit: waft it, immortal Gods,
“Up to your heavenly mansions: yes, my father,
“We will entomb thee by the ocean's edge
“On the salt beech; and when the thronging waves,
“Which every morn shall bow their curled heads
“To kiss thy tomb, shall, like the flattering friends
“Of this base world, fall off and leave thee bare;
“Then will I come down to the vacant strand,
“Washing thy grave with never-ceasing tears,
“Till the sea flows again.

Alcib.
“Ah turn, Evanthe,
“Turn from that mournful sight and look upon me:
“Damp not the blessing which his dying breath
“Pronounc'd upon us, and lament not him,
“Who, freed from this bad world, rests from his cares.
“Now let us bear him to the neighbouring beech,
“And with such rites, as soldiers use, inter him
“Under the vaulted cliff, (such was his will)
“Strong in extremes, from love to hatred tost,
“In the fierce conflict he was whelm'd and lost.”