 | Timon of Athens |  |
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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;
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“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,
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“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.
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“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;
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“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,
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“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.”
| Timon of Athens | |