TIMON OF ATHENS. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1607–1608.) INTRODUCTION. This play is, beyond reasonable doubt, only in part the work of Shakespeare. Whether Shakespeare worked upon materials furnished by an older play, or whether he left his play a fragment to be completed by another hand, is uncertain: the former supposition is perhaps the correct one, and the older writer may possibly have been George Wilkins. There is a substantial agreement among the best critics as to what portions of the play are Shakespeare's and what are not. The following may be distinguished, with some confidence, as the non-Shakespearian parts: Act I., Sc. I., L. 189– 240, 258--273 (or? from entrance of Apemantus to end of scene), II. (certainly); Act II., Sc. II., L. 45-124; all Act III., except Sc. vI., L .98-115; Act IV., Sc. II., L. 30-50, (?) III., L. 292-362, 339413, 454-543; Act V. (?) Sc. I., L. i.-59, II., III. There is no external evidence which helps to determine the date at which Shakespeare wrote his part of the play, but it was probably later than Macbeth and earlier than Pericles. The year 1607 is a date which cannot be very far astray. The sources of the play were Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, a passage in Plutarch's Life of Mark Antony, and in particular, a dialogue of Lucian. But if Shakespeare worked upon an older play, it may have been through it that he obtained the materials which appear to come through Lucian. Although only a fragment, Shakespeare's part of Timon is written with the highest dramatic energy. Nothing is more intense than the conception and rendering of Timon's feelings when he turns in hatred from the evil world. The rich Lord Timon has lived in a rose-colored mist of pleasant delusions. The conferring of favors has been with him a mode of kindly self-indulgence, and he has assumed that every one is as liberal-hearted and of as easy generosity as himself. Out of his pleasant dream he wakes to find the baseness, the selfishness, the ingratitude of the world; and he passes violently over from his former lax philanthropy to a fierce hatred of mankind. The practical Alcibiades sets at once about righting the wrongs which he has suffered; but 'Timon can only rage and then die. His rage implies the elements of a possible nobleness in hiin; he cannot acclimatize himself, as Alcibiades can, to the harsh and polluted air of the world; yet the rage also proceeds from a weakness of nature. The dog-like Apemantus accepts, well-contented, the evil which Alcibiades would punish, and from which Timon flies: he barks and snarls, but does not really suffer. The play is a painful one, unrelieved by the presence of beauty or human worth. ACT I. SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors. Poet. Good day, sir. Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows. Pain. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord. Nay, that's most fix'd. 10 Mer. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: Jew. I have a jewel here Mer. O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for that Poet. [Reciting to himself] When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.' Mer. 'Tis a good form. [Looking at the jewel. Jew. And rich here is a water, look ye. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication It tutors nature: artificial strife 41 Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment: my free drift Pain. How shall I understand you? You see how all conditions, how all minds, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging ance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loves better Pain. Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, Whose present grace to present slaves and Pain. "Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon'd from the rest below, Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on. All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tend down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. A thousand moral paintings I can show 90 More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head. Trumpets sound. Enter LORD TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? Mess. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, His means most short, his creditors most Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us "What levity's in youth. Tim. [To Lucilius] Love you the maid? Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be I call the gods to witness, I will choose Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? 140 Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served Your lordship to accept. Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man ; For since dishonor traffics with man's nature, He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work; And you shall find I like it: wait attend ance Till you hear further from me. We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Jew. What, my lord ! dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. Pain. You're a dog. Apem. Thy mother's of my generation : what's she, if I be a dog? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. 210 Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. Apem. So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labor. Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit. Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth? Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide [Exeunt some Attendants. You must needs dine with me: go not you hence Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest. So, so, there! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves, [bred out And all this courtesy! The strain of man's Into baboon and monkey. 260 Alcib. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt all except Apemantus. Enter two Lords. First Lord. What time o' day is't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest. First Lord. That time serves still. Apem. The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. Sec. Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast ? 270 Apem. Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. Sec. Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well. Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. Sec. Lord. Why, Apemantus? Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none. First Lord. Hang thyself! Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend. Sec. Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! 281 Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the [Exit. ass. First Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes The very heart of kindness. Sec. Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays 290 First Lord. The noblest mind he carries That ever govern'd man. Sec. Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? First Lord. I'll keep vou company. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter LORD TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself. Ven. Most honor'd Timon, Then It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, And call him to long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich : To your free heart, I do return those talents, Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help I derived liberty. Tim. O, by no means, 10 Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. Tim. Nay, my lords, [They all stand ceremoniously looking on Timon. Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame. They say, my lords, ira furor brevis est;' but yond man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is he fit for't, indeed. 31 Apem. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to observe; I give thee warning on't. Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; prithee, let my meat make thee silent. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: Methinks they should invite them without knives; Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. There's much example for't; the fellow that sits next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man o kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; 51 |