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I feel't upon my bones. 4 Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.
SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens.
Enter Timon. Tim. Let me look back upon thee, O thou wall, That girdlest in those wolves ! Dive in the earth, And fence not Athens ! Matrons, turn incontinent; Obedience fail in children ! slaves, and fools, Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, And minister in their steads! to general filths* Convert o'the instant, green virginity! Do't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast: Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trusters' throats ! bound servants,
steal! Large handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law! maid, to thy master's bed ; Thy mistress is o'the brothel ! son of sixteen, Pluck the lin'd crutch from the old limping sire, With it beat out his brains! piety, and fear, Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestick awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, Decline to your confounding contrariest, And yet confusion live!-Plagues, incident to men, Your potent and infectious fevers heap
. Common sewers.
+ i.e. Contrarieties, whose nature it is to waste or destroy each other.
On Athens, ripe for stroke! thou cold sciatica,
Athens. A room in Timon's house.
Enter Flavius, with two or three Servants. 1 Serv. Hear you, master steward, where's our
master ? Are we undone ? cast off? nothing remaining ? Flao. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to
you? Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, I am as poor as you. 1 Seru.
Such a house broke! So noble a master fallen! All gone! and not
# For libertinism.
+ Accumulated curses.
One friend, to take his fortune by the arm,
As we do turn our backs
Enter other Servants.
3 Sero. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
Good fellows all,
[Giving them money. Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
[Exeunt Servants. 0, the fierce* wretchedness that glory brings us! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since riches point to misery and contempt? Who'd be so mock'd with glory? or to live But in a dream of friendship? To have his pomp, and all what state compounds, But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart;
* Hasty, precipitate.
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
Enter Timon. Tim. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orbt Infect the air! Twion'd brothers of one womb, Whose procreation, residence, and birth, Scarce is dividant, touch them with several for
tunes; The greater scorns the lesser: Not vature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, But byt contempt of nature. Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord ; The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar native honour. It is the pasture lards the brother's sides,
* Propensity, disposition.
But by is here used for without.
The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who
dares, In purity of manhood stand upright, And say, This man's a flatterer ? if one be, So are they all; for every grize of fortune Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique; There's nothing level in our cursed natures, But direct villainy. Therefore, be abhorr'd All feasts, societies, and throngs of men ! His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: Destruction fang* mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
[Digging. Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate With thy most operant poison ! What is here? . Gold ? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, I am no idle votaristt. Roots, you clear heavens ! Thus much of this, will make black, white; foul, fair: Wrong, right; base, noble; old, young; coward,
valiant. Ha, you gods! why this ? What this, you gods?
Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides : Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads : This yellow slave Will knit and break religions ; bless the accurs'd; Make the boar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench : this is it, That makes the wappen'd I widow wed again; She, whom the spital-house, and ulcerous sores Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices To the April day againg. Come, damned earth,
* Seize, gripe.
+ No insincere or inconstant supplicant. Gold will not serve me instead of roots.
Sorrowful. ó i. e. Gold restores her to all the sweetness and freshness of youth..