3 Religion grones at it

1 For mine owne part, I neuer tasted Timon in my life Nor came any of his bounties ouer me, To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest, For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue, And Honourable Carriage, Had his necessity made vse of me, I would haue put my wealth into Donation, And the best halfe should haue return'd to him, So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue, Men must learne now with pitty to dispence, For Policy sits aboue Conscience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another of Timons Friends.

Semp. Must he needs trouble me in't? Hum. 'Boue all others? He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus, And now Ventidgius is wealthy too, Whom he redeem'd from prison. All these Owes their estates vnto him

Ser. My Lord, They haue all bin touch'd, and found Base-Mettle, For they haue all denied him

Semp. How? Haue they deny'de him? Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny'de him, And does he send to me? Three? Humh? It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him. Must I be his last Refuge? His Friends (like Physitians) Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th' Cure vpon me? Has much disgrac'd me in't, I'me angry at him, That might haue knowne my place. I see no sense for't, But his Occasions might haue wooed me first: For in my conscience, I was the first man That ere receiued guift from him. And does he thinke so backwardly of me now, That Ile requite it last? No: So it may proue an Argument of Laughter To th' rest, and 'mong'st Lords be thought a Foole: I'de rather then the worth of thrice the summe, Had sent to me first, but for my mindes sake: I'de such a courage to do him good. But now returne, And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne; Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.

Exit

Ser. Excellent: Your Lordships a goodly Villain: the diuell knew not what he did, when hee made man Politicke; he crossed himselfe by't: and I cannot thinke, but in the end, the Villanies of man will set him cleere. How fairely this Lord striues to appeare foule? Takes Vertuous Copies to be wicked: like those, that vnder hotte ardent zeale, would set whole Realmes on fire, of such a nature is his politike loue. This was my Lords best hope, now all are fled Saue onely the Gods. Now his Friends are dead, Doores that were ne're acquainted with their Wards Many a bounteous yeere, must be imploy'd Now to guard sure their Master: And this is all a liberall course allowes, Who cannot keepe his wealth, must keep his house. Enter.

Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to wait for his comming out. Then enter Lucius and Hortensius.

Var.man. Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortensius Tit. The like to you kinde Varro

Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together? Luci. I, and I think one businesse do's command vs all. For mine is money

Tit. So is theirs, and ours. Enter Philotus.

Luci. And sir Philotus too

Phil. Good day at once

Luci. Welcome good Brother. What do you thinke the houre? Phil. Labouring for Nine

Luci. So much? Phil. Is not my Lord seene yet? Luci. Not yet

Phil. I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seauen

Luci. I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him: You must consider, that a Prodigall course Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare: 'Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purse, that is: One may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little

Phil. I am of your feare, for that

Tit. Ile shew you how t' obserue a strange euent: Your Lord sends now for Money? Hort. Most true, he doe's

Tit. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift, For which I waite for money

Hort. It is against my heart

Luci. Marke how strange it showes, Timon in this, should pay more then he owes: And e'ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels, And send for money for 'em

Hort. I'me weary of this Charge, The Gods can witnesse: I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth, And now Ingratitude, makes it worse then stealth

Varro. Yes, mine's three thousand Crownes: What's yours? Luci. Fiue thousand mine

Varro. 'Tis much deepe, and it should seem by th' sum Your Masters confidence was aboue mine, Else surely his had equall'd. Enter Flaminius.

Tit. One of Lord Timons men

Luc. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie to come forth? Flam. No, indeed he is not

Tit. We attend his Lordship: pray signifie so much

Flam. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent. Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

Luci. Ha: is not that his Steward muffled so? He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him

Tit. Do you heare, sir? 2.Varro. By your leaue, sir

Stew. What do ye aske of me, my Friend

Tit. We waite for certaine Money heere, sir

Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting, 'Twere sure enough. Why then preferr'd you not your summes and Billes When your false Masters eate of my Lords meat? Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts. And take downe th' Intrest into their glutt'nous Mawes. You do your selues but wrong, to stirre me vp, Let me passe quietly: Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end, I haue no more to reckon, he to spend

Luci. I, but this answer will not serue

Stew. If't 'twill not serue, 'tis not so base as you, For you serue Knaues

1.Varro. How? What does his casheer'd Worship mutter? 2.Varro. No matter what, hee's poore, and that's reuenge enough. Who can speake broader, then hee that has no house to put his head in? Such may rayle against great buildings. Enter Seruilius.

Tit. Oh heere's Seruilius: now wee shall know some answere

Seru. If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayre some other houre, I should deriue much from't. For tak't of my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent: His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much out of health, and keepes his Chamber

Luci. Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke: And if it be so farre beyond his health, Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts, And make a cleere way to the Gods

Seruil. Good Gods

Titus. We cannot take this for answer, sir

Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord. Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my dores oppos'd against my passage? Haue I bin euer free, and must my house Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole? The place which I haue Feasted, does it now (Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart? Luci. Put in now Titus

Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill

Luci. Here's mine

1.Var. And mine, my Lord

2.Var. And ours, my Lord

Philo. All our Billes

Tim. Knocke me downe with 'em, cleaue mee to the Girdle

Luc. Alas, my Lord

Tim. Cut my heart in summes

Tit. Mine, fifty Talents

Tim. Tell out my blood

Luc. Fiue thousand Crownes, my Lord

Tim. Fiue thousand drops payes that. What yours? and yours? 1.Var. My Lord

2.Var. My Lord

Tim. Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.

Exit Timon.

Hort. Faith I perceiue our Masters may throwe their caps at their money, these debts may well be call'd desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Exeunt.

Enter Timon.

Timon. They haue e'ene put my breath from mee the slaues. Creditors? Diuels

Stew. My deere Lord

Tim. What if it should be so? Stew. My Lord

Tim. Ile haue it so. My Steward? Stew. Heere my Lord

Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All, Ile once more feast the Rascals

Stew. O my Lord, you onely speake from your distracted soule; there's not so much left to furnish out a moderate Table

Tim. Be it not in thy care: Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tide Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.

Exeunt.

Enter three Senators at one doore, Alcibiades meeting them, with Attendants

1.Sen. My Lord, you haue my voyce, too't, The faults Bloody: 'Tis necessary he should dye: Nothing imboldens sinne so much, as Mercy

2 Most true; the Law shall bruise 'em

Alc. Honor, health, and compassion to the Senate

1 Now Captaine

Alc. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues; For pitty is the vertue of the Law, And none but Tyrants vse it cruelly. It pleases time and Fortune to lye heauie Vpon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood Hath stept into the Law: which is past depth To those that (without heede) do plundge intoo't. He is a Man (setting his Fate aside) of comely Vertues, Nor did he soyle the fact with Cowardice. (And Honour in him, which buyes out his fault) But with a Noble Fury, and faire spirit, Seeing his Reputation touch'd to death, He did oppose his Foe: And with such sober and vnnoted passion He did behooue his anger ere 'twas spent, As if he had but prou'd an Argument

1.Sen. You vndergo too strict a Paradox, Striuing to make an vgly deed looke faire: Your words haue tooke such paines, as if they labour'd To bring Man-slaughter into forme, and set Quarrelling Vpon the head of Valour; which indeede Is Valour mis-begot, and came into the world, When Sects, and Factions were newly borne. Hee's truly Valiant, that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breath, And make his Wrongs, his Out-sides, To weare them like his Rayment, carelessely, And ne're preferre his iniuries to his heart, To bring it into danger. If Wrongs be euilles, and inforce vs kill, What Folly 'tis, to hazard life for Ill

Alci. My Lord

1.Sen. You cannot make grosse sinnes looke cleare, To reuenge is no Valour, but to beare

Alci. My Lords, then vnder fauour, pardon me, If I speake like a Captaine. Why do fond men expose themselues to Battell, And not endure all threats? Sleepe vpon't, And let the Foes quietly cut their Throats Without repugnancy? If there be Such Valour in the bearing, what make wee Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant That stay at home, if Bearing carry it: And the Asse, more Captaine then the Lyon? The fellow loaden with Irons, wiser then the Iudge? If Wisedome be in suffering. Oh my Lords, As you are great, be pittifully Good, Who cannot condemne rashnesse in cold blood? To kill, I grant, is sinnes extreamest Gust, But in defence, by Mercy, 'tis most iust. To be in Anger, is impietie: But who is Man, that is not Angrie. Weigh but the Crime with this

2.Sen. You breath in vaine

Alci. In vaine? His seruice done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium, Were a sufficient briber for his life

1 What's that? Alc. Why say my Lords ha's done faire seruice, And slaine in fight many of your enemies: How full of valour did he beare himselfe In the last Conflict, and made plenteous wounds? 2 He has made too much plenty with him: He's a sworne Riotor, he has a sinne That often drownes him, and takes his valour prisoner. If there were no Foes, that were enough To ouercome him. In that Beastly furie, He has bin knowne to commit outrages, And cherrish Factions. 'Tis inferr'd to vs, His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous

1 He dyes

Alci. Hard fate: he might haue dyed in warre. My Lords, if not for any parts in him, Though his right arme might purchase his owne time, And be in debt to none: yet more to moue you, Take my deserts to his, and ioyne 'em both. And for I know, your reuerend Ages loue Security, Ile pawne my Victories, all my Honour to you Vpon his good returnes. If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life, Why let the Warre receiue't in valiant gore, For Law is strict, and Warre is nothing more

1 We are for Law, he dyes, vrge it no more On height of our displeasure: Friend, or Brother, He forfeits his owne blood, that spilles another

Alc. Must it be so? It must not bee: My Lords, I do beseech you know mee

2 How? Alc. Call me to your remembrances

3 What

Alc. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me, It could not else be, I should proue so bace, To sue and be deny'de such common Grace. My wounds ake at you

1 Do you dare our anger? 'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect: We banish thee for euer

Alc. Banish me? Banish your dotage, banish vsurie, That makes the Senate vgly

1 If after two dayes shine, Athens containe thee, Attend our waightier Iudgement. And not to swell our Spirit, He shall be executed presently.

Exeunt.

Alc. Now the Gods keepe you old enough, That you may liue Onely in bone, that none may looke on you. I'm worse then mad: I haue kept backe their Foes While they haue told their Money, and let out Their Coine vpon large interest. I my selfe, Rich onely in large hurts. All those, for this? Is this the Balsome, that the vsuring Senat Powres into Captaines wounds? Banishment. It comes not ill: I hate not to be banisht, It is a cause worthy my Spleene and Furie, That I may strike at Athens. Ile cheere vp My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts; 'Tis Honour with most Lands to be at ods, Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as Gods. Enter.

Enter diuers Friends at seuerall doores.

1 The good time of day to you, sir

2 I also wish it to you: I thinke this Honorable Lord did but try vs this other day

1 Vpon that were my thoughts tyring when wee encountred. I hope it is not so low with him as he made it seeme in the triall of his seuerall Friends

2 It should not be, by the perswasion of his new Feasting

1 I should thinke so. He hath sent mee an earnest inuiting, which many my neere occasions did vrge mee to put off: but he hath coniur'd mee beyond them, and I must needs appeare

2 In like manner was I in debt to my importunat businesse, but he would not heare my excuse. I am sorrie, when he sent to borrow of mee, that my Prouision was out

1 I am sicke of that greefe too, as I vnderstand how all things go

2 Euery man heares so: what would hee haue borrowed of you? 1 A thousand Peeces

2 A thousand Peeces? 1 What of you? 2 He sent to me sir- Heere he comes. Enter Timon and Attendants.

Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how fare you? 1 Euer at the best, hearing well of your Lordship

2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing, then we your Lordship

Tim. Nor more willingly leaues Winter, such Summer Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompence this long stay: Feast your eares with the Musicke awhile: If they will fare so harshly o'th' Trumpets sound: we shall too't presently

1 I hope it remaines not vnkindely with your Lordship, that I return'd you an empty Messenger

Tim. O sir, let it not trouble you

2 My Noble Lord

Tim. Ah my good Friend, what cheere?

The Banket brought in.

2 My most Honorable Lord, I am e'ne sick of shame, that when your Lordship this other day sent to me, I was so vnfortunate a Beggar

Tim. Thinke not on't, sir

2 If you had sent but two houres before

Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. Come bring in all together

2 All couer'd Dishes

1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you

3 Doubt not that, if money and the season can yeild it 1 How do you? What's the newes? 3 Alcibiades is banish'd: heare you of it? Both. Alcibiades banish'd? 3 'Tis so, be sure of it

1 How? How? 2 I pray you vpon what? Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw neere? 3 Ile tell you more anon. Here's a Noble feast toward 2 This is the old man still

3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold? 2 It do's: but time will, and so

3 I do conceyue

Tim. Each man to his stoole, with that spurre as hee would to the lip of his Mistris: your dyet shall bee in all places alike. Make not a Citie Feast of it, to let the meat coole, ere we can agree vpon the first place. Sit, sit. The Gods require our Thankes. You great Benefactors, sprinkle our Society with Thankefulnesse. For your owne guifts, make your selues prais'd: But reserue still to giue, least your Deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that one neede not lend to another. For were your Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make the Meate be beloued, more then the Man that giues it. Let no Assembly of Twenty, be without a score of Villaines. If there sit twelue Women at the Table, let a dozen of them bee as they are. The rest of your Fees, O Gods, the Senators of Athens, together with the common legge of People, what is amisse in them, you Gods, make suteable for destruction. For these my present Friends, as they are to mee nothing, so in nothing blesse them, and to nothing are they welcome. Vncouer Dogges, and lap

Some speake. What do's his Lordship meane? Some other. I know not

Timon. May you a better Feast neuer behold You knot of Mouth-Friends: Smoke, & lukewarm water Is your perfection. This is Timons last, Who stucke and spangled you with Flatteries, Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villany. Liue loath'd, and long Most smiling, smooth, detested Parasites, Curteous Destroyers, affable Wolues, meeke Beares: You Fooles of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Times Flyes, Cap and knee-Slaues, vapours, and Minute Iackes. Of Man and Beast, the infinite Maladie Crust you quite o're. What do'st thou go? Soft, take thy Physicke first; thou too, and thou: Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none. What? All in Motion? Henceforth be no Feast, Whereat a Villaine's not a welcome Guest. Burne house, sinke Athens, henceforth hated be Of Timon Man, and all Humanity.

Exit

Enter the Senators, with other Lords.

1 How now, my Lords? 2 Know you the quality of Lord Timons fury? 3 Push, did you see my Cap? 4 I haue lost my Gowne

1 He's but a mad Lord, & nought but humors swaies him. He gaue me a Iewell th' other day, and now hee has beate it out of my hat. Did you see my Iewell? 2 Did you see my Cap

3 Heere 'tis

4 Heere lyes my Gowne

1 Let's make no stay

2 Lord Timons mad

3 I feel't vpon my bones

4 One day he giues vs Diamonds, next day stones.

Exeunt. the Senators.

Enter Timon.

Tim. Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall That girdles in those Wolues, diue in the earth, And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent, Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench, And minister in their steeds, to generall Filthes. Conuert o'th' Instant greene Virginity, Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues, And cut your Trusters throates. Bound Seruants, steale, Large-handed Robbers your graue Masters are, And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Masters bed, Thy Mistris is o'th' Brothell. Some of sixteen, Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire, With it, beate out his Braines. Piety, and Feare, Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iustice, Truth, Domesticke awe, Night-rest, and Neighbourhood, Instruction, Manners, Mysteries, and Trades, Degrees, Obseruances, Customes, and Lawes, Decline to your confounding contraries. And yet Confusion liue: Plagues incident to men, Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica, Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt As lamely as their Manners. Lust, and Libertie Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth, That 'gainst the streame of Vertue they may striue, And drowne themselues in Riot. Itches, Blaines, So we all th' Athenian bosomes, and their crop Be generall Leprosie: Breath, infect breath, That their Society (as their Friendship) may Be meerely poyson. Nothing Ile beare from thee But nakednesse, thou detestable Towne, Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes: Timon will to the Woods, where he shall finde Th' vnkindest Beast, more kinder then Mankinde. The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all) Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall: And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low. Amen. Enter.

Enter Steward with two or three Seruants.

1 Heare you M[aster]. Steward, where's our Master? Are we vndone, cast off, nothing remaining? Stew. Alack my Fellowes, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods, I am as poore as you

1 Such a House broke? So Noble a Master falne, all gone, and not One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme, And go along with him

2 As we do turne our backes From our Companion, throwne into his graue, So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes Slinke all away, leaue their false vowes with him Like empty purses pickt; and his poore selfe A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre, With his disease, of all shunn'd pouerty, Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes. Enter other Seruants.

Stew. All broken Implements of a ruin'd house

3 Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery, That see I by our Faces: we are Fellowes still, Seruing alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our Barke, And we poore Mates, stand on the dying Decke, Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part Into this Sea of Ayre

Stew. Good Fellowes all, The latest of my wealth Ile share among'st you. Where euer we shall meete, for Timons sake, Let's yet be Fellowes. Let's shake our heads, and say As 'twere a Knell vnto our Masters Fortunes, We haue seene better dayes. Let each take some: Nay put out all your hands: Not one word more, Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poore.

Embrace and part seuerall wayes.

Oh the fierce wretchednesse that Glory brings vs! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt? Who would be so mock'd with Glory, or to liue But in a Dreame of Friendship, To haue his pompe, and all what state compounds, But onely painted like his varnisht Friends: Poore honest Lord, brought lowe by his owne heart, Vndone by Goodnesse: Strange vnvsuall blood, When mans worst sinne is, He do's too much Good. Who then dares to be halfe so kinde agen? For Bounty that makes Gods, do still marre Men. My deerest Lord, blest to be most accurst, Rich onely to be wretched; thy great Fortunes Are made thy cheefe Afflictions. Alas (kinde Lord) Hee's flung in Rage from this ingratefull Seate Of monstrous Friends: Nor ha's he with him to supply his life, Or that which can command it: Ile follow and enquire him out. Ile euer serue his minde, with my best will, Whilst I haue Gold, Ile be his Steward still. Enter.

Enter Timon in the woods.

Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe Infect the ayre. Twin'd Brothers of one wombe, Whose procreation, residence, and birth, Scarse is diuidant; touch them with seuerall fortunes, The greater scornes the lesser. Not Nature (To whom all sores lay siege) can beare great Fortune But by contempt of Nature. Raise me this Begger, and deny't that Lord, The Senators shall beare contempt Hereditary, The Begger Natiue Honor. It is the Pastour Lards, the Brothers sides, The want that makes him leaue: who dares? who dares In puritie of Manhood stand vpright And say, this mans a Flatterer. If one be, So are they all: for euerie grize of Fortune Is smooth'd by that below. The Learned pate Duckes to the Golden Foole. All's obliquie: There's nothing leuell in our cursed Natures But direct villanie. Therefore be abhorr'd, All Feasts, Societies, and Throngs of men. His semblable, yea himselfe Timon disdaines, Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes, Who seekes for better of thee, sawce his pallate With thy most operant Poyson. What is heere? Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold? No Gods, I am no idle Votarist, Roots you cleere Heauens. Thus much of this will make Blacke, white; fowle, faire; wrong, right; Base, Noble; Old, young; Coward, valiant. Ha you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why this Will lugge your Priests and Seruants from your sides: Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads. This yellow Slaue, Will knit and breake Religions, blesse th' accurst, Make the hoare Leprosie ador'd, place Theeues, And giue them Title, knee, and approbation With Senators on the Bench: This is it That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe; Shee, whom the Spittle-house, and vlcerous sores, Would cast the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices To'th' Aprill day againe. Come damn'd Earth, Thou common whore of Mankinde, that puttes oddes Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee Do thy right Nature.

March afarre off.

Ha? A Drumme? Th'art quicke, But yet Ile bury thee: Thou't go (strong Theefe) When Gowty keepers of thee cannot stand: Nay stay thou out for earnest. Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fife in warlike manner, and Phrynia and Timandra.

Alc. What art thou there? speake

Tim. A Beast as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy hart For shewing me againe the eyes of Man

Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hatefull to thee, That art thy selfe a Man? Tim. I am Misantropos, and hate Mankinde. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dogge, That I might loue thee something

Alc. I know thee well: But in thy Fortunes am vnlearn'd, and strange

Tim. I know thee too, and more then that I know thee I not desire to know. Follow thy Drumme, With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules: Religious Cannons, ciuill Lawes are cruell, Then what should warre be? This fell whore of thine, Hath in her more destruction then thy Sword, For all her Cherubin looke

Phrin. Thy lips rot off

Tim. I will not kisse thee, then the rot returnes To thine owne lippes againe

Alc. How came the Noble Timon to this change? Tim. As the Moone do's, by wanting light to giue: But then renew I could not like the Moone, There were no Sunnes to borrow of

Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee? Tim. None, but to maintaine my opinion

Alc. What is it Timon? Tim. Promise me Friendship, but performe none. If thou wilt not promise, the Gods plague thee, for thou art a man: if thou do'st performe, confound thee, for thou art a man

Alc. I haue heard in some sort of thy Miseries

Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperitie

Alc. I see them now, then was a blessed time

Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots

Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world Voic'd so regardfully? Tim. Art thou Timandra? Timan. Yes

Tim. Be a whore still, they loue thee not that vse thee, giue them diseases, leauing with thee their Lust. Make vse of thy salt houres, season the slaues for Tubbes and Bathes, bring downe Rose-cheekt youth to the Fubfast, and the Diet

Timan. Hang thee Monster

Alc. Pardon him sweet Timandra, for his wits Are drown'd and lost in his Calamities. I haue but little Gold of late, braue Timon, The want whereof, doth dayly make reuolt In my penurious Band. I haue heard and greeu'd How cursed Athens, mindelesse of thy worth, Forgetting thy great deeds, when Neighbour states But for thy Sword and Fortune trod vpon them

Tim. I prythee beate thy Drum, and get thee gone

Alc. I am thy Friend, and pitty thee deere Timon

Tim. How doest thou pitty him whom y dost troble, I had rather be alone

Alc. Why fare thee well: Heere is some Gold for thee

Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eate it

Alc. When I haue laid proud Athens on a heape

Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens

Alc. I Timon, and haue cause

Tim. The Gods confound them all in thy Conquest, And thee after, when thou hast Conquer'd

Alc. Why me, Timon? Tim. That by killing of Villaines Thou was't borne to conquer my Country. Put vp thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, go on; Be as a Plannetary plague, when Ioue Will o're some high-Vic'd City, hang his poyson In the sicke ayre: let not thy sword skip one: Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard, He is an Vsurer. Strike me the counterfet Matron, It is her habite onely, that is honest, Her selfe's a Bawd. Let not the Virgins cheeke Make soft thy trenchant Sword: for those Milke pappes That through the window Barne bore at mens eyes, Are not within the Leafe of pitty writ, But set them down horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe Whose dimpled smiles from Fooles exhaust their mercy; Thinke it a Bastard, whom the Oracle Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse. Sweare against Obiects, Put Armour on thine eares, and on thine eyes, Whose proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes, Nor sight of Priests in holy Vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a iot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers, Make large confusion: and thy fury spent, Confounded be thy selfe. Speake not, be gone

Alc. Hast thou Gold yet, Ile take the Gold thou giuest me, not all thy Counsell

Tim. Dost thou or dost thou not, Heauens curse vpon thee

Both. Giue vs some Gold good Timon, hast y more? Tim. Enough to make a Whore forsweare her Trade, And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold vp you Sluts Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable, Although I know you'l sweare, terribly sweare Into strong shudders, and to heauenly Agues Th' immortall Gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes: Ile trust to your Conditions, be whores still. And he whose pious breath seekes to conuert you, Be strong in Whore, allure him, burne him vp, Let your close fire predominate his smoke, And be no turne-coats: yet may your paines six months Be quite contrary, And Thatch Your poore thin Roofes with burthens of the dead, (Some that were hang'd) no matter: Weare them, betray with them; Whore still, Paint till a horse may myre vpon your face: A pox of wrinkles

Both. Well, more Gold, what then? Beleeue't that wee'l do any thing for Gold

Tim. Consumptions sowe In hollow bones of man, strike their sharpe shinnes, And marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce, That he may neuer more false Title pleade, Nor sound his Quillets shrilly: Hoare the Flamen, That scold'st against the quality of flesh, And not beleeues himselfe. Downe with the Nose, Downe with it flat, take the Bridge quite away Of him, that his particular to foresee Smels from the generall weale. Make curl'd pate Ruffians bald And let the vnscarr'd Braggerts of the Warre Deriue some paine from you. Plague all, That your Actiuity may defeate and quell The sourse of all Erection. There's more Gold. Do you damne others, and let this damne you, And ditches graue you all

Both. More counsell with more Money, bounteous Timon

Tim. More whore, more Mischeefe first, I haue giuen you earnest

Alc. Strike vp the Drum towardes Athens, farewell Timon: if I thriue well, Ile visit thee againe

Tim. If I hope well, Ile neuer see thee more

Alc. I neuer did thee harme

Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me

Alc. Call'st thou that harme? Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away, And take thy Beagles with thee

Alc. We but offend him, strike.

Exeunt.

Tim. That Nature being sicke of mans vnkindnesse Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou Whose wombe vnmeasureable, and infinite brest Teemes and feeds all: whose selfesame Mettle Whereof thy proud Childe (arrogant man) is puft, Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew, The gilded Newt, and eyelesse venom'd Worme, With all th' abhorred Births below Crispe Heauen, Whereon Hyperions quickning fire doth shine: Yeeld him, who all the humane Sonnes do hate, From foorth thy plenteous bosome, one poore roote: Enseare thy Fertile and Conceptious wombe, Let it no more bring out ingratefull man. Goe great with Tygers, Dragons, Wolues, and Beares, Teeme with new Monsters, whom thy vpward face Hath to the Marbled Mansion all aboue Neuer presented. O, a Root, deare thankes: Dry vp thy Marrowes, Vines, and Plough-torne Leas, Whereof ingratefull man with Licourish draughts And Morsels Vnctious, greases his pure minde, That from it all Consideration slippes- Enter Apemantus.

More man? Plague, plague

Ape. I was directed hither. Men report, Thou dost affect my Manners, and dost vse them

Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keepe a dogge Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee

Ape. This is in thee a Nature but infected, A poore vnmanly Melancholly sprung From change of future. Why this Spade? this place? This Slaue-like Habit, and these lookes of Care? Thy Flatterers yet weare Silke, drinke Wine, lye soft, Hugge their diseas'd Perfumes, and haue forgot That euer Timon was. Shame not these Woods, By putting on the cunning of a Carper. Be thou a Flatterer now, and seeke to thriue By that which ha's vndone thee; hindge thy knee, And let his very breath whom thou'lt obserue Blow off thy Cap: praise his most vicious straine, And call it excellent: thou wast told thus: Thou gau'st thine eares (like Tapsters, that bad welcom) To Knaues, and all approachers: 'Tis most iust That thou turne Rascall, had'st thou wealth againe, Rascals should haue't. Do not assume my likenesse

Tim. Were I like thee, I'de throw away my selfe

Ape. Thou hast cast away thy selfe, being like thy self A Madman so long, now a Foole: what think'st That the bleake ayre, thy boysterous Chamberlaine Will put thy shirt on warme? Will these moyst Trees, That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brooke Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste To cure thy o're-nights surfet? Call the Creatures, Whose naked Natures liue in all the spight Of wrekefull Heauen, whose bare vnhoused Trunkes, To the conflicting Elements expos'd Answer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee. O thou shalt finde

Tim. A Foole of thee: depart

Ape. I loue thee better now, then ere I did

Tim. I hate thee worse

Ape. Why? Tim. Thou flatter'st misery

Ape. I flatter not, but say thou art a Caytiffe

Tim. Why do'st thou seeke me out? Ape. To vex thee

Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles. Dost please thy selfe in't? Ape. I

Tim. What, a Knaue too? Ape. If thou did'st put this sowre cold habit on To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou Dost it enforcedly: Thou'dst Courtier be againe Wert thou not Beggar: willing misery Out-liues: incertaine pompe, is crown'd before: The one is filling still, neuer compleat: The other, at high wish: best state Contentlesse, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse then the worst, Content. Thou should'st desire to dye, being miserable

Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable. Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge. Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded, The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords, To such as may the passiue drugges of it Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd The Icie precepts of respect, but followed The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe, Who had the world as my Confectionarie, The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men, At duty more then I could frame employment; That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare, For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this, That neuer knew but better, is some burthen: Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st y hate Men? They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen? If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge) Must be thy subiect; who in spight put stuffe To some shee-Begger, and compounded thee Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone, If thou hadst not bene borne the worst of men, Thou hadst bene a Knaue and Flatterer

Ape. Art thou proud yet? Tim. I, that I am not thee

Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall

Tim. I, that I am one now. Were all the wealth I haue shut vp in thee, I'ld giue thee leaue to hang it. Get thee gone: That the whole life of Athens were in this, Thus would I eate it

Ape. Heere, I will mend thy Feast

Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy selfe

Ape. So I shall mend mine owne, by'th' lacke of thine Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht; If not, I would it were

Ape. What would'st thou haue to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt, Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue

Ape. Heere is no vse for Gold

Tim. The best, and truest: For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme

Ape. Where lyest a nights Timon? Tim. Vnder that's aboue me. Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus? Ape. Where my stomacke findes meate, or rather where I eate it

Tim. Would poyson were obedient, & knew my mind Ape. Where would'st thou send it? Tim. To sawce thy dishes

Ape. The middle of Humanity thou neuer knewest, but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much Curiositie: in thy Ragges thou know'st none, but art despis'd for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not

Ape. Do'st hate a Medler? Tim. I, though it looke like thee

Ape. And th'hadst hated Medlers sooner, y should'st haue loued thy selfe better now. What man didd'st thou euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes! Tim. Who without those meanes thou talk'st of, didst thou euer know belou'd? Ape. My selfe

Tim. I vnderstand thee: thou had'st some meanes to keepe a Dogge

Apem. What things in the world canst thou neerest compare to thy Flatterers? Tim. Women neerest, but men: men are the things themselues. What would'st thou do with the world Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? Ape. Giue it the Beasts, to be rid of the men

Tim. Would'st thou haue thy selfe fall in the confusion of men, and remaine a Beast with the Beasts

Ape. I Timon

Tim. A beastly Ambition, which the Goddes graunt thee t' attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would beguile thee. if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would eate thee: if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would suspect thee, when peraduenture thou wert accus'd by the Asse: If thou wert the Asse, thy dulnesse would torment thee; and still thou liu'dst but as a Breakefast to the Wolfe. If thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedinesse would afflict thee, & oft thou should'st hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine owne selfe the conquest of thy fury. Wert thou a Beare, thou would'st be kill'd by the Horse: wert thou a Horse, thou would'st be seaz'd by the Leopard: wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the Lion, and the spottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What Beast could'st thou bee, that were not subiect to a Beast: and what a Beast art thou already, that seest not thy losse in transformation

Ape. If thou could'st please me With speaking to me, thou might'st Haue hit vpon it heere. The Commonwealth of Athens, is become A Forrest of Beasts

Tim. How ha's the Asse broke the wall, that thou art out of the Citie

Ape. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter: The plague of Company light vpon thee: I will feare to catch it, and giue way. When I know not what else to do, Ile see thee againe

Tim. When there is nothing liuing but thee, Thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a Beggers Dogge, Then Apemantus

Ape. Thou art the Cap Of all the Fooles aliue

Tim. Would thou wert cleane enough To spit vpon

Ape. A plague on thee, Thou art too bad to curse

Tim. All Villaines That do stand by thee, are pure

Ape. There is no Leprosie, But what thou speak'st

Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee; But I should infect my hands

Ape. I would my tongue Could rot them off

Tim. Away thou issue of a mangie dogge, Choller does kill me, That thou art aliue, I swoond to see thee

Ape. Would thou would'st burst

Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee

Ape. Beast

Tim. Slaue

Ape. Toad

Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue. I am sicke of this false world, and will loue nought But euen the meere necessities vpon't: Then Timon presently prepare thy graue: Lye where the light Fome of the Sea may beate Thy graue stone dayly, make thine Epitaph, That death in me, at others liues may laugh. O thou sweete King-killer, and deare diuorce Twixt naturall Sunne and fire: thou bright defiler Of Himens purest bed, thou valiant Mars, Thou euer, yong, fresh, loued, and delicate wooer, Whose blush doth thawe the consecrated Snow That lyes on Dians lap. Thou visible God, That souldrest close Impossibilities, And mak'st them kisse; that speak'st with euerie Tongue To euerie purpose: O thou touch of hearts, Thinke thy slaue-man rebels, and by thy vertue Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts May haue the world in Empire

Ape. Would 'twere so, But not till I am dead. Ile say th'hast Gold: Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly

Tim. Throng'd too? Ape. I

Tim. Thy backe I prythee

Ape. Liue, and loue thy misery

Tim. Long liue so, and so dye. I am quit

Ape. Mo things like men, Eate Timon, and abhorre then.

Exit Apeman[tus].

Enter the Bandetti.

1 Where should he haue this Gold? It is some poore Fragment, some slender Ort of his remainder: the meere want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, droue him into this Melancholly

2 It is nois'd He hath a masse of Treasure

3 Let vs make the assay vpon him, if he care not for't, he will supply vs easily: if he couetously reserue it, how shall's get it? 2 True: for he beares it not about him: 'Tis hid

1 Is not this hee? All. Where? 2 'Tis his description

3 He? I know him

All. Saue thee Timon

Tim. Now Theeues

All. Soldiers, not Theeues

Tim. Both too, and womens Sonnes

All. We are not Theeues, but men That much do want

Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat: Why should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Rootes: Within this Mile breake forth a hundred Springs: The Oakes beare Mast, the Briars Scarlet Heps, The bounteous Huswife Nature, on each bush, Layes her full Messe before you. Want? why Want? 1 We cannot liue on Grasse, on Berries, Water, As Beasts, and Birds, and Fishes

Ti. Nor on the Beasts themselues, the Birds & Fishes, You must eate men. Yet thankes I must you con, That you are Theeues profest: that you worke not In holier shapes: For there is boundlesse Theft In limited Professions. Rascall Theeues Heere's Gold. Go, sucke the subtle blood o'th' Grape, Till the high Feauor seeth your blood to froth, And so scape hanging. Trust not the Physitian, His Antidotes are poyson, and he slayes Moe then you Rob: Take wealth, and liues together, Do Villaine do, since you protest to doo't. Like Workemen, Ile example you with Theeuery: The Sunnes a Theefe, and with his great attraction Robbes the vaste Sea. The Moones an arrant Theefe, And her pale fire, she snatches from the Sunne. The Seas a Theefe, whose liquid Surge, resolues The Moone into Salt teares. The Earth's a Theefe, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolne From gen'rall excrement: each thing's a Theefe. The Lawes, your curbe and whip, in their rough power Ha's vncheck'd Theft. Loue not your selues, away, Rob one another, there's more Gold, cut throates, All that you meete are Theeues: to Athens go, Breake open shoppes, nothing can you steale But Theeues do loose it: steale lesse, for this I giue you, And Gold confound you howsoere: Amen

3 Has almost charm'd me from my Profession, by perswading me to it

1 'Tis in the malice of mankinde, that he thus aduises vs not to haue vs thriue in our mystery

2 Ile beleeue him as an Enemy, And giue ouer my Trade

1 Let vs first see peace in Athens, there is no time so miserable, but a man may be true.

Exit Theeues.

Enter the Steward to Timon.

Stew. Oh you Gods! Is yon'd despis'd and ruinous man my Lord? Full of decay and fayling? Oh Monument And wonder of good deeds, euilly bestow'd! What an alteration of Honor has desp'rate want made? What vilder thing vpon the earth, then Friends, Who can bring Noblest mindes, to basest ends. How rarely does it meete with this times guise, When man was wisht to loue his Enemies: Grant I may euer loue, and rather woo Those that would mischeefe me, then those that doo. Has caught me in his eye, I will present my honest griefe vnto him; and as my Lord, still serue him with my life. My deerest Master

Tim. Away: what art thou? Stew. Haue you forgot me, Sir? Tim. Why dost aske that? I haue forgot all men. Then, if thou grunt'st, th'art a man. I haue forgot thee

Stew. An honest poore seruant of yours

Tim. Then I know thee not: I neuer had honest man about me, I all I kept were Knaues, to serue in meate to Villaines

Stew. The Gods are witnesse, Neu'r did poore Steward weare a truer greefe For his vndone Lord, then mine eyes for you

Tim. What, dost thou weepe? Come neerer, then I loue thee Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st Flinty mankinde: whose eyes do neuer giue, But thorow Lust and Laughter: pittie's sleeping: Strange times y weepe with laughing, not with weeping

Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord, T' accept my greefe, and whil'st this poore wealth lasts, To entertaine me as your Steward still

Tim. Had I a Steward So true, so iust, and now so comfortable? It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde. Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man Was borne of woman. Forgiue my generall, and exceptlesse rashnesse You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime One honest man: Mistake me not, but one: No more I pray, and hee's a Steward. How faine would I haue hated all mankinde, And thou redeem'st thy selfe. But all saue thee, I fell with Curses. Me thinkes thou art more honest now, then wise: For, by oppressing and betraying mee, Thou might'st haue sooner got another Seruice: For many so arriue at second Masters, Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true, (For I must euer doubt, though ne're so sure) Is not thy kindnesse subtle, couetous, If not a Vsuring kindnesse, and as rich men deale Guifts, Expecting in returne twenty for one? Stew. No my most worthy Master, in whose brest Doubt, and suspect (alas) are plac'd too late: You should haue fear'd false times, when you did Feast. Suspect still comes, where an estate is least. That which I shew, Heauen knowes, is meerely Loue, Dutie, and Zeale, to your vnmatched minde; Care of your Food and Liuing, and beleeue it, My most Honour'd Lord, For any benefit that points to mee, Either in hope, or present, I'de exchange For this one wish, that you had power and wealth To requite me, by making rich your selfe

Tim. Looke thee, 'tis so: thou singly honest man, Heere take: the Gods out of my miserie Ha's sent thee Treasure. Go, liue rich and happy, But thus condition'd: Thou shalt build from men: Hate all, curse all, shew Charity to none, But let the famisht flesh slide from the Bone, Ere thou releeue the Begger. Giue to dogges What thou denyest to men. Let Prisons swallow 'em, Debts wither 'em to nothing, be men like blasted woods And may Diseases licke vp their false bloods, And so farewell, and thriue

Stew. O let me stay, and comfort you, my Master

Tim. If thou hat'st Curses Stay not: flye, whil'st thou art blest and free: Ne're see thou man, and let me ne're see thee.

Exit

Enter Poet, and Painter.

Pain. As I tooke note of the place, it cannot be farre where he abides

Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the Rumor hold for true, That hee's so full of Gold? Painter. Certaine. Alcibiades reports it: Phrinica and Timandylo Had Gold of him. He likewise enrich'd Poore stragling Souldiers, with great quantity. 'Tis saide, he gaue vnto his Steward A mighty summe

Poet. Then this breaking of his, Ha's beene but a Try for his Friends? Painter. Nothing else: You shall see him a Palme in Athens againe, And flourish with the highest: Therefore, 'tis not amisse, we tender our loues To him, in this suppos'd distresse of his: It will shew honestly in vs, And is very likely, to loade our purposes With what they trauaile for, If it be a iust and true report, that goes Of his hauing

Poet. What haue you now To present vnto him? Painter. Nothing at this time But my Visitation: onely I will promise him An excellent Peece

Poet. I must serue him so too; Tell him of an intent that's comming toward him

Painter. Good as the best. Promising, is the verie Ayre o'th' Time; It opens the eyes of Expectation. Performance, is euer the duller for his acte, And but in the plainer and simpler kinde of people, The deede of Saying is quite out of vse. To Promise, is most Courtly and fashionable; Performance, is a kinde of Will or Testament Which argues a great sicknesse in his iudgement That makes it. Enter Timon from his Caue.

Timon. Excellent Workeman, Thou canst not paint a man so badde As is thy selfe

Poet. I am thinking What I shall say I haue prouided for him: It must be a personating of himselfe: A Satyre against the softnesse of Prosperity, With a Discouerie of the infinite Flatteries That follow youth and opulencie

Timon. Must thou needes Stand for a Villaine in thine owne Worke? Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men? Do so, I haue Gold for thee

Poet. Nay let's seeke him. Then do we sinne against our owne estate, When we may profit meete, and come too late

Painter. True: When the day serues before blacke-corner'd night; Finde what thou want'st, by free and offer'd light. Come

Tim. Ile meete you at the turne: What a Gods Gold, that he is worshipt In a baser Temple, then where Swine feede? 'Tis thou that rigg'st the Barke, and plow'st the Fome, Setlest admired reuerence in a Slaue, To thee be worshipt, and thy Saints for aye: Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay. Fit I meet them

Poet. Haile worthy Timon

Pain. Our late Noble Master

Timon. Haue I once liu'd To see two honest men? Poet. Sir: Hauing often of your open Bounty tasted, Hearing you were retyr'd, your Friends falne off, Whose thankelesse Natures (O abhorred Spirits) Not all the Whippes of Heauen, are large enough. What, to you, Whose Starre-like Noblenesse gaue life and influence To their whole being? I am rapt, and cannot couet The monstrous bulke of this Ingratitude With any size of words

Timon. Let it go, Naked men may see't the better: You that are honest, by being what you are, Make them best seene, and knowne

Pain. He, and my selfe Haue trauail'd in the great showre of your guifts, And sweetly felt it

Timon. I, you are honest man

Painter. We are hither come To offer you our seruice

Timon. Most honest men: Why how shall I requite you? Can you eate Roots, and drinke cold water, no? Both. What we can do, Wee'l do to do you seruice

Tim. Y'are honest men, Y'haue heard that I haue Gold, I am sure you haue, speake truth, y'are honest men

Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore Came not my Friend, nor I

Timon. Good honest men: Thou draw'st a counterfet Best in all Athens, th'art indeed the best, Thou counterfet'st most liuely

Pain. So, so, my Lord

Tim. E'ne so sir as I say. And for thy fiction, Why thy Verse swels with stuffe so fine and smooth, That thou art euen Naturall in thine Art. But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends) I must needs say you haue a little fault, Marry 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I You take much paines to mend

Both. Beseech your Honour To make it knowne to vs

Tim. You'l take it ill

Both. Most thankefully, my Lord

Timon. Will you indeed? Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord

Tim. There's neuer a one of you but trusts a Knaue, That mightily deceiues you

Both. Do we, my Lord? Tim. I, and you heare him cogge, See him dissemble, Know his grosse patchery, loue him, feede him, Keepe in your bosome, yet remaine assur'd That he's a made-vp-Villaine

Pain. I know none such, my Lord

Poet. Nor I

Timon. Looke you, I loue you well, Ile giue you Gold Rid me these Villaines from your companies; Hang them, or stab them, drowne them in a draught, Confound them by some course, and come to me, Ile giue you Gold enough

Both. Name them my Lord, let's know them

Tim. You that way, and you this: But two in Company: Each man a part, all single, and alone, Yet an arch Villaine keepes him company: If where thou art, two Villaines shall not be, Come not neere him. If thou would'st not recide But where one Villaine is, then him abandon. Hence, packe, there's Gold, you came for Gold ye slaues: You haue worke for me; there's payment, hence, You are an Alcumist, make Gold of that: Out Rascall dogges.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, and two Senators.

Stew. It is vaine that you would speake with Timon: For he is set so onely to himselfe, That nothing but himselfe, which lookes like man, Is friendly with him

1.Sen. Bring vs to his Caue. It is our part and promise to th' Athenians To speake with Timon

2.Sen. At all times alike Men are not still the same: 'twas Time and Greefes That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand, Offering the Fortunes of his former dayes, The former man may make him: bring vs to him And chanc'd it as it may

Stew. Heere is his Caue: Peace and content be heere. Lord Timon, Timon, Looke out, and speake to Friends: Th' Athenians By two of their most reuerend Senate greet thee: Speake to them Noble Timon. Enter Timon out of his Caue.

Tim. Thou Sunne that comforts burne, Speake and be hang'd: For each true word, a blister, and each false Be as a Cantherizing to the root o'th' Tongue, Consuming it with speaking

1 Worthy Timon

Tim. Of none but such as you, And you of Timon

1 The Senators of Athens, greet thee Timon

Tim. I thanke them, And would send them backe the plague, Could I but catch it for them

1 O forget What we are sorry for our selues in thee: The Senators, with one consent of loue, Intreate thee backe to Athens, who haue thought On speciall Dignities, which vacant lye For thy best vse and wearing

2 They confesse Toward thee, forgetfulnesse too generall grosse; Which now the publike Body, which doth sildome Play the recanter, feeling in it selfe A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall Of it owne fall, restraining ayde to Timon, And send forth vs, to make their sorrowed render, Together, with a recompence more fruitfull Then their offence can weigh downe by the Dramme, I euen such heapes and summes of Loue and Wealth, As shall to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs, And write in thee the figures of their loue, Euer to read them thine

Tim. You witch me in it; Surprize me to the very brinke of teares; Lend me a Fooles heart, and a womans eyes, And Ile beweepe these comforts, worthy Senators

1 Therefore so please thee to returne with vs, And of our Athens, thine and ours to take The Captainship, thou shalt be met with thankes, Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name Liue with Authoritie: so soone we shall driue backe Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild, Who like a Bore too sauage, doth root vp His Countries peace

2 And shakes his threatning Sword Against the walles of Athens

1 Therefore Timon

Tim. Well sir, I will: therefore I will sir thus: If Alcibiades kill my Countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, That Timon cares not. But if he sacke faire Athens, And take our goodly aged men by'th' Beards, Giuing our holy Virgins to the staine Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd warre: Then let him know, and tell him Timon speakes it, In pitty of our aged, and our youth, I cannot choose but tell him that I care not, And let him tak't at worst: For their Kniues care not, While you haue throats to answer. For my selfe, There's not a whittle, in th' vnruly Campe, But I do prize it at my loue, before The reuerends Throat in Athens. So I leaue you To the protection of the prosperous Gods, As Theeues to Keepers

Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine

Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph, It will be seene to morrow. My long sicknesse Of Health, and Liuing, now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go, liue still, Be Alcibiades your plague; you his, And last so long enough

1 We speake in vaine

Tim. But yet I loue my Country, and am not One that reioyces in the common wracke, As common bruite doth put it

1 That's well spoke

Tim. Commend me to my louing Countreymen

1 These words become your lippes as they passe thorow them

2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers In their applauding gates

Tim. Commend me to them, And tell them, that to ease them of their greefes, Their feares of Hostile strokes, their Aches losses, Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes That Natures fragile Vessell doth sustaine In lifes vncertaine voyage, I will some kindnes do them, Ile teach them to preuent wilde Alcibiades wrath

1 I like this well, he will returne againe

Tim. I haue a Tree which growes heere in my Close, That mine owne vse inuites me to cut downe, And shortly must I fell it. Tell my Friends, Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree, From high to low throughout, that who so please To stop Affliction, let him take his haste; Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe, And hang himselfe. I pray you do my greeting

Stew. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall Finde him

Tim. Come not to me againe, but say to Athens, Timon hath made his euerlasting Mansion Vpon the Beached Verge of the salt Flood, Who once a day with his embossed Froth The turbulent Surge shall couer; thither come, And let my graue-stone be your Oracle: Lippes, let foure words go by, and Language end: What is amisse, Plague and Infection mend. Graues onely be mens workes, and Death their gaine; Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne.

Exit Timon.

1 His discontents are vnremoueably coupled to Nature

2 Our hope in him is dead: let vs returne, And straine what other meanes is left vnto vs In our deere perill

1 It requires swift foot.

Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.

1 Thou hast painfully discouer'd: are his Files As full as thy report? Mes. I haue spoke the least. Besides his expedition promises present approach

2 We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon

Mes. I met a Currier, one mine ancient Friend, Whom though in generall part we were oppos'd, Yet our old loue made a particular force, And made vs speake like Friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timons Caue, With Letters of intreaty, which imported His Fellowship i'th' cause against your City, In part for his sake mou'd. Enter the other Senators.

1 Heere come our Brothers

3 No talke of Timon, nothing of him expect, The Enemies Drumme is heard, and fearefull scouring Doth choake the ayre with dust: In, and prepare, Ours is the fall I feare, our Foes the Snare.

Exeunt.

Enter a Souldier in the Woods, seeking Timon.

Sol. By all description this should be the place. Whose heere? Speake hoa. No answer? What is this? Tymon is dead, who hath out-stretcht his span, Some Beast reade this; There do's not liue a Man. Dead sure, and this his Graue, what's on this Tomb, I cannot read: the Charracter Ile take with wax, Our Captaine hath in euery Figure skill; An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes: Before proud Athens hee's set downe by this, Whose fall the marke of his Ambition is. Enter.

Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens.

Alc. Sound to this Coward, and lasciuious Towne, Our terrible approach.

Sounds a Parly.

The Senators appeare vpon the wals.

Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time With all Licentious measure, making your willes The scope of Iustice. Till now, my selfe and such As slept within the shadow of your power Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush, When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong Cries (of it selfe) no more: Now breathlesse wrong, Shall sit and pant in your great Chaires of ease, And pursie Insolence shall breake his winde With feare and horrid flight

1.Sen. Noble, and young; When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit, Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause of feare, We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme, To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loues Aboue their quantitie

2 So did we wooe Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue By humble Message, and by promist meanes: We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue The common stroke of warre

1 These walles of ours, Were not erected by their hands, from whom You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such, That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools shold fall For priuate faults in them

2 Nor are they liuing Who were the motiues that you first went out, (Shame that they wanted, cunning in excesse) Hath broke their hearts. March, Noble Lord, Into our City with thy Banners spred, By decimation and a tythed death; If thy Reuenges hunger for that Food Which Nature loathes, take thou the destin'd tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted dye, Let dye the spotted

1 All haue not offended: For those that were, it is not square to take On those that are, Reuenge: Crimes, like Lands Are not inherited, then deere Countryman, Bring in thy rankes, but leaue without thy rage, Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall With those that haue offended, like a Shepheard, Approach the Fold, and cull th' infected forth, But kill not altogether

2 What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt inforce it with thy smile, Then hew too't, with thy Sword

1 Set but thy foot Against our rampyr'd gates, and they shall ope: So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, To say thou't enter Friendly

2 Throw thy Gloue, Or any Token of thine Honour else, That thou wilt vse the warres as thy redresse, And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers Shall make their harbour in our Towne, till wee Haue seal'd thy full desire

Alc. Then there's my Gloue, Defend and open your vncharged Ports, Those Enemies of Timons, and mine owne Whom you your selues shall set out for reproofe, Fall and no more; and to attone your feares With my more Noble meaning, not a man Shall passe his quarter, or offend the streame Of Regular Iustice in your Citties bounds, But shall be remedied to your publique Lawes At heauiest answer

Both. 'Tis most Nobly spoken

Alc. Descend, and keepe your words. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My Noble Generall, Timon is dead, Entomb'd vpon the very hemme o'th' Sea, And on his Grauestone, this Insculpture which With wax I brought away: whose soft Impression Interprets for my poore ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.

Heere lies a wretched Coarse, of wretched Soule bereft, Seek not my name: A Plague consume you, wicked Caitifs left: Heere lye I Timon, who aliue, all liuing men did hate, Passe by, and curse thy fill, but passe and stay not here thy gate. These well expresse in thee thy latter spirits: Though thou abhorrd'st in vs our humane griefes, Scornd'st our Braines flow, and those our droplets, which From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye On thy low Graue, on faults forgiuen. Dead Is Noble Timon, of whose Memorie Heereafter more. Bring me into your Citie, And I will vse the Oliue, with my Sword: Make war breed peace; make peace stint war, make each Prescribe to other, as each others Leach. Let our Drummes strike.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

THE ACTORS NAMES.

TYMON of Athens. Lucius, And Lucullus, two Flattering Lords. Appemantus, a Churlish Philosopher. Sempronius another flattering Lord. Alcibiades, an Athenian Captaine. Poet. Painter. Ieweller. Merchant. Certaine Theeues. Flaminius, one of Tymons Seruants. Seruilius, another. Caphis. Varro. Philo. Titus. Lucius. Hortensis Seuerall Seruants to Vsurers. Ventigius. one of Tymons false Friends. Cupid. Sempronius. With diuers other Seruants, And Attendants.

THE LIFE OF TYMON OF ATHENS.

The Tragedie of Julius Caesar

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.

Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home: Is this a Holiday? What, know you not (Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke Vpon a labouring day, without the signe Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou? Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter

Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule? What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on? You sir, what Trade are you? Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would say, a Cobler

Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly

Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules

Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue, what Trade? Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you

Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou sawcy Fellow? Cob. Why sir, Cobble you

Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou? Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes: when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon my handy-worke

Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day? Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets? Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph

Mur. Wherefore reioyce? What Conquest brings he home? What Tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles? You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things: O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft? Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements, To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops, Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate The liue-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome: And when you saw his Chariot but appeare, Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout, That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes To heare the replication of your sounds, Made in her Concaue Shores? And do you now put on your best attyre? And do you now cull out a Holyday? And do you now strew Flowers in his way, That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood? Be gone, Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees, Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this Ingratitude

Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault Assemble all the poore men of your sort; Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares Into the Channell, till the lowest streame Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt. all the Commoners.

See where their basest mettle be not mou'd, They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse: Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll, This way will I: Disrobe the Images, If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies

Mur. May we do so? You know it is the Feast of Lupercall

Fla. It is no matter, let no Images Be hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about, And driue away the Vulgar from the streets; So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke. These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing, Will make him flye an ordinary pitch, Who else would soare aboue the view of men, And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and Flauius.

Caes. Calphurnia

Cask. Peace ho, Caesar speakes

Caes. Calphurnia

Calp. Heere my Lord

Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way, When he doth run his course. Antonio

Ant. Csar, my Lord

Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio, To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say, The Barren touched in this holy chace, Shake off their sterrile curse

Ant. I shall remember, When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'd

Caes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony out

Sooth. Caesar

Caes. Ha? Who calles? Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe

Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me? I heare a Tongue shriller then all the Musicke Cry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heare

Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

Caes. What man is that? Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face

Cassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar

Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe, Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

Caes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.

Sennet

Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.

Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course? Brut. Not I

Cassi. I pray you do

Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony: Let me not hinder Cassius your desires; Ile leaue you

Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late: I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue: You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand Ouer your Friend, that loues you

Bru. Cassius, Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke, I turne the trouble of my Countenance Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions onely proper to my selfe, Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours: But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd (Among which number Cassius be you one) Nor construe any further my neglect, Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre, Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men

Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion, By meanes whereof, this Brest of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations. Tell me good Brutus, Can you see your face? Brutus. No Cassius: For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection, By some other things

Cassius. 'Tis iust, And it is very much lamented Brutus, That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne Your hidden worthinesse into your eye, That you might see your shadow: I haue heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, (Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus, And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake, Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes

Bru. Into what dangers, would you Leade me Cassius? That you would haue me seeke into my selfe, For that which is not in me? Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare: And since you know, you cannot see your selfe So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse, Will modestly discouer to your selfe That of your selfe, which you yet know not of. And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common Laughter, or did vse To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue To euery new Protester: if you know, That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard, And after scandall them: Or if you know, That I professe my selfe in Banquetting To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and Shout.

Bru. What meanes this Showting? I do feare, the People choose Caesar For their King

Cassi. I, do you feare it? Then must I thinke you would not haue it so

Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well: But wherefore do you hold me heere so long? What is it, that you would impart to me? If it be ought toward the generall good, Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other, And I will looke on both indifferently: For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue The name of Honor, more then I feare death

Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus, As well as I do know your outward fauour. Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story: I cannot tell, what you and other men Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe, I had as liefe not be, as liue to be In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe. I was borne free as Caesar, so were you, We both haue fed as well, and we can both Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee. For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day, The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores, Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now Leape in with me into this angry Flood, And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bad him follow: so indeed he did. The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie. But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd, Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke. I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor, Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man, Is now become a God, and Cassius is A wretched Creature, and must bend his body, If Caesar carelesly but nod on him. He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine, And when the Fit was on him, I did marke How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake, His Coward lippes did from their colour flye, And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World, Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone: I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes, Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius, As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the Maiesticke world, And beare the Palme alone.

Shout. Flourish.

Bru. Another generall shout? I do beleeue, that these applauses are For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar

Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about To finde our selues dishonourable Graues. Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates. The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres, But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings. Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar? Why should that name be sounded more then yours Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name: Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell: Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em, Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar. Now in the names of all the Gods at once, Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede, That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd. Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods. When went there by an Age, since the great Flood, But it was fam'd with more then with one man? When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome, That her wide Walkes incompast but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough When there is in it but one onely man. O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome, As easily as a King

Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous: What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme: How I haue thought of this, and of these times I shall recount heereafter. For this present, I would not so (with loue I might intreat you) Be any further moou'd: What you haue said, I will consider: what you haue to say I will with patience heare, and finde a time Both meete to heare, and answer such high things. Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this: Brutus had rather be a Villager, Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time Is like to lay vpon vs

Cassi. I am glad that my weake words Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus, Enter Caesar and his Traine.

Bru. The Games are done, And Caesar is returning

Cassi. As they passe by, Plucke Caska by the Sleeue, And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you What hath proceeded worthy note to day

Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow, And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine; Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes As we haue seene him in the Capitoll Being crost in Conference, by some Senators

Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is

Caes Antonio

Ant. Caesar

Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat, Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights: Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke, He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous

Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous, He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen

Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not: Yet if my name were lyable to feare, I do not know the man I should auoyd So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much, He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes, As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke; Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mou'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease, Whiles they behold a greater then themselues, And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar. Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe, And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.

Sennit.

Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.

Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake with me? Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day That Caesar lookes so sad

Cask. Why you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd

Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus, and then the people fell a shouting

Bru. What was the second noyse for? Cask. Why for that too

Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Cask. Why for that too

Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice? Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine honest Neighbors showted

Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne? Cask. Why Antony

Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska

Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking, he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had (almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh, for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad Ayre

Cassi. But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd at mouth, and was speechlesse

Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse

Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I, And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse

Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre, I am no true man

Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe? Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done no lesse

Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away

Cask. I

Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing? Cask. I, he spoke Greeke

Cassi. To what effect? Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember it

Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska? Cask. No, I am promis'd forth

Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow? Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your Dinner worth the eating

Cassi. Good, I will expect you

Cask. Doe so: farewell both. Enter.

Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be? He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole

Cassi. So is he now, in execution Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize, How-euer he puts on this tardie forme: This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit, Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words With better Appetite

Brut. And so it is: For this time I will leaue you: To morrow, if you please to speake with me, I will come home to you: or if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you

Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World. Exit Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see, Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet, That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes: For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd? Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus. If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, He should not humor me. I will this Night, In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw, As if they came from seuerall Citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at. And after this, let Caesar seat him sure, For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure. Enter.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.

Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home? Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so? Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero, I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame, To be exalted with the threatning Clouds: But neuer till to Night, neuer till now, Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire. Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen, Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods, Incenses them to send destruction

Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull? Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight, Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd. Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword, Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon, Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me. And there were drawne Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women, Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes. And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit, Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place, Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say, These are their Reasons, they are Naturall: For I beleeue, they are portentous things Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon

Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues. Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow? Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio Send word to you, he would be there to morrow

Cic. Good-night then, Caska: This disturbed Skie is not to walke in

Cask. Farewell Cicero.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

Cassi. Who's there? Cask. A Romane

Cassi. Caska, by your Voyce

Cask. Your Eare is good. Cassius, what Night is this? Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men

Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so? Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full of faults. For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets, Submitting me vnto the perillous Night; And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see, Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone: And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to open The Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfe Euen in the ayme, and very flash of it

Cask. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heauens? It is the part of men, to feare and tremble, When the most mightie Gods, by tokens send Such dreadfull Heraulds, to astonish vs

Cassi. You are dull, Caska: And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman, You doe want, or else you vse not. You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare, And cast your selfe in wonder, To see the strange impatience of the Heauens: But if you would consider the true cause, Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts, Why Birds and Beasts, from qualitie and kinde, Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate, Why all these things change from their Ordinance, Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties, To monstrous qualitie; why you shall finde, That Heauen hath infus'd them with these Spirits, To make them Instruments of feare, and warning, Vnto some monstrous State. Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man, Most like this dreadfull Night, That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graues, and roares, As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll: A man no mightier then thy selfe, or me, In personall action; yet prodigious growne, And fearefull, as these strange eruptions are

Cask. 'Tis Caesar that you meane: Is it not, Cassius? Cassi. Let it be who it is: for Romans now Haue Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Ancestors; But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead, And we are gouern'd with our Mothers spirits, Our yoake, and sufferance, shew vs Womanish

Cask. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow Meane to establish Caesar as a King: And he shall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land, In euery place, saue here in Italy

Cassi. I know where I will weare this Dagger then; Cassius from Bondage will deliuer Cassius: Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake most strong; Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat. Nor Stonie Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brasse, Nor ayre-lesse Dungeon, nor strong Linkes of Iron, Can be retentiue to the strength of spirit: But Life being wearie of these worldly Barres, Neuer lacks power to dismisse it selfe. If I know this, know all the World besides, That part of Tyrannie that I doe beare, I can shake off at pleasure.

Thunder still.

Cask. So can I: So euery Bond-man in his owne hand beares The power to cancell his Captiuitie

Cassi. And why should Csar be a Tyrant then? Poore man, I know he would not be a Wolfe, But that he sees the Romans are but Sheepe: He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes. Those that with haste will make a mightie fire, Begin it with weake Strawes. What trash is Rome? What Rubbish, and what Offall? when it serues For the base matter, to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Griefe, Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speake this Before a willing Bond-man: then I know My answere must be made. But I am arm'd, And dangers are to me indifferent

Cask. You speake to Caska, and to such a man, That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand: Be factious for redresse of all these Griefes, And I will set this foot of mine as farre, As who goes farthest

Cassi. There's a Bargaine made. Now know you, Caska, I haue mou'd already Some certaine of the Noblest minded Romans To vnder-goe, with me, an Enterprize, Of Honorable dangerous consequence; And I doe know by this, they stay for me In Pompeyes Porch: for now this fearefull Night, There is no stirre, or walking in the streetes; And the Complexion of the Element Is Fauors, like the Worke we haue in hand, Most bloodie, fierie, and most terrible. Enter Cinna.

Caska. Stand close a while, for heere comes one in haste

Cassi. 'Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate, He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so? Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, Metellus Cymber? Cassi. No, it is Caska, one incorporate To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? Cinna. I am glad on't. What a fearefull Night is this? There's two or three of vs haue seene strange sights

Cassi. Am I not stay'd for? tell me

Cinna. Yes, you are. O Cassius, If you could but winne the Noble Brutus To our party- Cassi. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper, And looke you lay it in the Pretors Chayre, Where Brutus may but finde it: and throw this In at his Window; set this vp with Waxe Vpon old Brutus Statue: all this done, Repaire to Pompeyes Porch, where you shall finde vs. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? Cinna. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's gone To seeke you at your house. Well, I will hie, And so bestow these Papers as you bad me

Cassi. That done, repayre to Pompeyes Theater.

Exit Cinna.

Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day, See Brutus at his house: three parts of him Is ours alreadie, and the man entire Vpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours

Cask. O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts: And that which would appeare Offence in vs, His Countenance, like richest Alchymie, Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinesse

Cassi. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him, You haue right well conceited: let vs goe, For it is after Mid-night, and ere day, We will awake him, and be sure of him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.

Brut. What Lucius, hoe? I cannot, by the progresse of the Starres, Giue guesse how neere to day- Lucius, I say? I would it were my fault to sleepe so soundly. When Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius? Enter Lucius.

Luc. Call'd you, my Lord? Brut. Get me a Tapor in my Study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here

Luc. I will, my Lord. Enter.

Brut. It must be by his death: and for my part, I know no personall cause, to spurne at him, But for the generall. He would be crown'd: How that might change his nature, there's the question? It is the bright day, that brings forth the Adder, And that craues warie walking: Crowne him that, And then I graunt we put a Sting in him, That at his will he may doe danger with. Th' abuse of Greatnesse, is, when it dis-ioynes Remorse from Power: And to speake truth of Caesar, I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'd More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proofe, That Lowlynesse is young Ambitions Ladder, Whereto the Climber vpward turnes his Face: But when he once attaines the vpmost Round, He then vnto the Ladder turnes his Backe, Lookes in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend: so Caesar may; Then least he may, preuent. And since the Quarrell Will beare no colour, for the thing he is, Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, Would runne to these, and these extremities: And therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge, Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous; And kill him in the shell. Enter Lucius.

Luc. The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir: Searching the Window for a Flint, I found This Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sure It did not lye there when I went to Bed.

Giues him the Letter.

Brut. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day: Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March? Luc. I know not, Sir

Brut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word

Luc. I will, Sir. Enter.

Brut. The exhalations, whizzing in the ayre, Giue so much light, that I may reade by them.

Opens the Letter, and reades.

Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy selfe: Shall Rome, &c. speake, strike, redresse. Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake. Such instigations haue beene often dropt, Where I haue tooke them vp: Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out: Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome? My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King. Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise, If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus. Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.

Knocke within.

Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks: Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I haue not slept. Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing, And the first motion, all the Interim is Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame: The Genius, and the mortall Instruments Are then in councell; and the state of a man, Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then The nature of an Insurrection. Enter Lucius.

Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore, Who doth desire to see you

Brut. Is he alone? Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him

Brut. Doe you know them? Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares, And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes, That by no meanes I may discouer them, By any marke of fauour

Brut. Let 'em enter: They are the Faction. O Conspiracie, Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night, When euills are most free? O then, by day Where wilt thou finde a Cauerne darke enough, To maske thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracie, Hide it in Smiles, and Affabilitie: For if thou path thy natiue semblance on, Not Erebus it selfe were dimme enough, To hide thee from preuention. Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus, and Trebonius.

Cass. I thinke we are too bold vpon your Rest: Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you? Brut. I haue beene vp this howre, awake all Night: Know I these men, that come along with you? Cass. Yes, euery man of them; and no man here But honors you: and euery one doth wish, You had but that opinion of your selfe, Which euery Noble Roman beares of you. This is Trebonius

Brut. He is welcome hither

Cass. This, Decius Brutus

Brut. He is welcome too

Cass. This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cymber

Brut. They are all welcome. What watchfull Cares doe interpose themselues Betwixt your Eyes, and Night? Cass. Shall I entreat a word?

They whisper.

Decius. Here lyes the East: doth not the Day breake heere? Cask. No

Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines, That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day

Cask. You shall confesse, that you are both deceiu'd: Heere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arises, Which is a great way growing on the South, Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare. Some two moneths hence, vp higher toward the North He first presents his fire, and the high East Stands as the Capitoll, directly heere

Bru. Giue me your hands all ouer, one by one

Cas. And let vs sweare our Resolution

Brut. No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men, The sufferance of our Soules, the times Abuse; If these be Motiues weake, breake off betimes, And euery man hence, to his idle bed: So let high-sighted-Tyranny range on, Till each man drop by Lottery. But if these (As I am sure they do) beare fire enough To kindle Cowards, and to steele with valour The melting Spirits of women. Then Countrymen, What neede we any spurre, but our owne cause To pricke vs to redresse? What other Bond, Then secret Romans, that haue spoke the word, And will not palter? And what other Oath, Then Honesty to Honesty ingag'd, That this shall be, or we will fall for it. Sweare Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Soules That welcome wrongs: Vnto bad causes, sweare Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not staine The euen vertue of our Enterprize, Nor th' insuppressiue Mettle of our Spirits, To thinke, that or our Cause, or our Performance Did neede an Oath. When euery drop of blood That euery Roman beares, and Nobly beares Is guilty of a seuerall Bastardie, If he do breake the smallest Particle Of any promise that hath past from him

Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him? I thinke he will stand very strong with vs

Cask. Let vs not leaue him out

Cyn. No, by no meanes

Metel. O let vs haue him, for his Siluer haires Will purchase vs a good opinion: And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds: It shall be sayd, his iudgement rul'd our hands, Our youths, and wildenesse, shall no whit appeare, But all be buried in his Grauity

Bru. O name him not; let vs not breake with him, For he will neuer follow any thing That other men begin

Cas. Then leaue him out

Cask. Indeed, he is not fit

Decius. Shall no man else be toucht, but onely Caesar? Cas. Decius well vrg'd: I thinke it is not meet, Marke Antony, so well belou'd of Caesar, Should out-liue Caesar, we shall finde of him A shrew'd Contriuer. And you know, his meanes If he improue them, may well stretch so farre As to annoy vs all: which to preuent, Let Antony and Caesar fall together

Bru. Our course will seeme too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the Head off, and then hacke the Limbes: Like Wrath in death, and Enuy afterwards: For Antony, is but a Limbe of Caesar. Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius: We all stand vp against the spirit of Caesar, And in the Spirit of men, there is no blood: O that we then could come by Caesars Spirit, And not dismember Caesar! But (alas) Caesar must bleed for it. And gentle Friends, Let's kill him Boldly, but not Wrathfully: Let's carue him, as a Dish fit for the Gods, Not hew him as a Carkasse fit for Hounds: And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do, Stirre vp their Seruants to an acte of Rage, And after seeme to chide 'em. This shall make Our purpose Necessary, and not Enuious. Which so appearing to the common eyes, We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers. And for Marke Antony, thinke not of him: For he can do no more then Caesars Arme, When Caesars head is off

Cas. Yet I feare him, For in the ingrafted loue he beares to Caesar

Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not thinke of him: If he loue Caesar, all that he can do Is to himselfe; take thought, and dye for Caesar, And that were much he should: for he is giuen To sports, to wildenesse, and much company

Treb. There is no feare in him; let him not dye, For he will liue, and laugh at this heereafter.

Clocke strikes.

Bru. Peace, count the Clocke

Cas. The Clocke hath stricken three

Treb. 'Tis time to part

Cass. But it is doubtfull yet, Whether Caesar will come forth to day, or no: For he is Superstitious growne of late, Quite from the maine Opinion he held once, Of Fantasie, of Dreames, and Ceremonies: It may be, these apparant Prodigies, The vnaccustom'd Terror of this night, And the perswasion of his Augurers, May hold him from the Capitoll to day

Decius. Neuer feare that: If he be so resolu'd, I can ore-sway him: For he loues to heare, That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees, And Beares with Glasses, Elephants with Holes, Lyons with Toyles, and men with Flatterers. But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers, He sayes, he does; being then most flattered. Let me worke: For I can giue his humour the true bent; And I will bring him to the Capitoll

Cas. Nay, we will all of vs, be there to fetch him

Bru. By the eight houre, is that the vttermost? Cin. Be that the vttermost, and faile not then

Met. Caius Ligarius doth beare Caesar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey; I wonder none of you haue thought of him

Bru. Now good Metellus go along by him: He loues me well, and I haue giuen him Reasons, Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him

Cas. The morning comes vpon's: Wee'l leaue you Brutus, And Friends disperse your selues; but all remember What you haue said, and shew your selues true Romans