• That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible God, That fouldreft close impoffibilities,

And mak'ft them kifs! that fpeak'it with ev'ry tongue,
To every purpofe! oh, thou touch of hearts!
Think thy flave man rebels; and by thy virtue

• Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire.'

Apem. 'Would 'twere fo,

But not till I am dead I'll fay thou haft gold.
Thou wilt be throng'd to fhortly.

Tim. Throng'd to?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Thy back, I pr'thee.

Apem. Live and love thy mifery!

Tim. Long live fo, and fo die! I am quit.

Apem. No things like men-Eat, Timon, and abhor [Exit Apem.

them.

SCENE VII. Enter Thieves.

1 Thief. Where should he have this gold! It is fome poor fragment, fome flender ort of his remainder: the mere want of gold, and the falling off of friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Thief. It is nois'd he hath a mass of treasure.

3 Thief. Let us make the affay upon him; if he care not for't, he will fupply us eafily: if he covetoufly referve it, how fhall's get it?

2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him; 'tis hid.

1 Thief. Is not this he?

All. Where?

2 Thief. 'Tis his description. 3 Thief. He; I know him. All. Save thee, Timon.

Tim. Now, thieves.

All. Soldiers; not thieves.

Tim. Both too, and womens' fons.

All. We are not thieves, but men that much do want. Tim. Your greateft want is, you want much of meet. "Why fhould you want? behold, the earth hath roots; "Within this mile break forth an hundred fprings;.

The

"The oaks bear mafts, the briars fcarlet hips: "The bounteous hufwife Nature on each bufh "Lays her full mefs before you. Want? why want?" 1 Thief. We cannot live on grafs, on berries, water, As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds and fishes ; You must eat men. "Yet thanks I muft you con, "That you are thieves profefs'd: that you work not "In holier fhapes; for there is boundless theft "In limited † profeffions. Rafcals, thieves, "Here's gold. Go, fuck the fubtle blood o' th' grape, "Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, "And fo 'fcape hanging. Truft not the phyfician; "His antidotes are poison, and he flays

"More than you rob, takes wealth and life together. "Do villany, do, fince you profefs to do't,

" Like workmen ; I'll example you with thievery. [... "The fun's a thief, and with his great attraction "Robs the vaft fea. The moon's an arrant thief, "And her pale fire she snatches from the fun. "The fea's a thief, whose liquid furge refolves "The mounds into falt tears. The earth's a thief, "That feeds and breeds by a compofture ftoln "From gen'ral excrements: each thing's a thief. "The laws, your curb and whip, in their right power "Have uncheck'd theft." Love not yourselves, away, Rob one another, there's more gold; cut throats; All that you meet, are thieves: to Athens go, Break open fhops, for nothing can you fteal But thieves do lofe it: fteal not lefs for what

I give, and gold confound you howfoever! Amen. }

[Exit. 3 Thief. H'as almost charm'd me from my profeffion, by perfuading me to it..

1 Thief. 'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus adviles us, not to have us thrive in our mistery.

2 Thief. I'll believe him as an enemy; and give over

my trade.

Thief. Let us firft fee peace in Athens.

2 Thief There is no time fo miferable, but a man may be true.

N 3

† limited, for legal.

[Exit.

ACT

ACT V. SCENE I.

The woods, and Timon's cave.
Enter Flavius.

Flav. OH, you gods!

Is yon defpis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and failing? oh, monument
And wonder of good deeds, evilly bestow'd!
What change of humour defp'rate want has made?
What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring nobleft minds to baseft ends?
How rarely does it meet with time's guife,
When man was will'd to love his enemies!
Grant I may ever love, and rather too,

*

Those that would mischief me, than those that woo?
H'as caught me in his eye, I will present

My honeft grief to him; and, as my lord,

Still ferve him with my life. My dearest master!
Timon comes forward from his save.

Tim. Away! what art thou?

Flav. Have you forgot ine, Sir!

Tim. Why doft thou afk that? I have forgot all men. Then, if thou granteft that thou art a man,

I have forgot thee.

Flav. An honeft fervant,

Tim. Then I know thee not.

I ne'er had honeft man about me, all

I kept were knaves, to ferve in meat to villains.
Flav. The gods are witness,

Ne'er did poor fteward wear a truer grief

For his undone lord, than mine eyes for you.

Tim. What, doft thou weep? come nearer, then I love

Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st

Flinty mankind; whofe eyes do never give

[thee,

me, good my Lord,

But or through luft or laughter +.

Flav. I beg of you to know

T'accept my grief, and, whilft this poor wealth lasts, To entertain me as your fteward ftill.

*

rarely, for fit; not for feldom.

t- ---or laughter. Pity's fleeping;

Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
Flav. I beg of you, &c.

Tim.

So, true, fo juft, and now fo comfortable?
It almoft turns my dangerous nature † mild.
Let me behold thy face: furely, this man
Was born of woman.

"Forgive my gen'ral and exceptlefs rafhness,
"Perpetual, fober gods! I do proclaim
"One honeft man: miftake me not, but one.
"No more, I pray; and he's à fteward.
"How fain would I have hated all mankind,
"And thou redeem'ft thyfelf: but all fave thee,
"I fell with curfes.

"Methinks thou art more honeft now, than wife;
"For, by oppreffing and betraying me,

"Thou might'ft have fooner got another service: "For many fo arrive at fecond mafters,

Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true, "(For I must ever doubt, tho' ne'er fo fure), "Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,

"A ufuring kindness, as rich men deal gifts, Expecting in return twenty for one?

Flav. No, my moft worthy mafter, (in whofe breaft Doubt and fufpect, alas, are plac'd too late),

You should have fear'd false times, when you did feast
Sufpe&t ftill comes, where an estate is leaft.

That which I fhew, heav'n knows is merely love,
Duty, and zeal, to your unmatched mind,
Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
For any benefit that points to me

and wealth

Either in hope, or prefent, I'd exchange
For this one wish, that you had power
To requite me by making rich yourself.

Tim. Look thee, 'tis fo; thou fingly honeft man,
Here, take; the gods out of my mifery

Have fent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy :
But thus condition'd; thou fhalt build from men ;
Hate all, curfe all, fhew charity to none;

But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs

What thou deny'it to men. Let prifons swallow 'em.
Debts wither 'em; be men like blasted woods,

By dangerous nature, is meant wildness.

And

And may diseases lick up

And fo farewel, and thrive.

that false blood!

Flav. O, let me ftay, and comfort you, my master.
Tim. If thou hat❜ft curfes,

Say not, but fly, whilft thou art blefs'd and free;

Ne'er fee thou man, and let me ne'er fee thee.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt feverally.

Enter Poet and Painter.

Pain. As I took note of the place, it can't be far where he abides.

Poet. What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold for true, that he's fo full of gold?

Pain. Certain. Alcibiades reports it: Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him: he likewife inrich'd poor ftraggling foldiers with great quantity. 'Tis faid he gave his steward a mighty fum.

Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a trial of his friends!

Pain. Nothing else: you fhall fee him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the higheft. Therefore 'tis not amifs we tender our loves to him, in this fuppos'd diftrefs of his. It will fhew honeftly in us, and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travel for, if it be a juft and true report that goes of his having.

Poet. What have you now to prefent unto him?

Pain. Nothing at this time but my vifitation: only I will promife him an excellent piece.

Poet. I muft ferve him so too; tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

Pain. Good as the beft. "Promifing is the very air "o' th' time; it opens the eyes of expectation. Per"formance is ever the duller for his act, and, but in "the plainer and fimpler kind of people, the deed is "quite out of ufe. To promife is moft courtly and fa"fhionable: performance is a kind of will or teftament, "which argues a great sickness in his judgment that "makes it.

Re-enter Timon from his cave, unfeen.

Tim. Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a man fo bad as thyfelf.

Poet.