amifs in them, you Gods, make fuitable for deftruction. For
thefe my friends-as they are to me nothing, fo in nothing
bless them, and to nothing are they welcome.
Uncover, dogs, and lap.

Some Speak. What does his lordship mean?
Some other. I know not.

Tim. May you a better feast never behold,
You knot of mouth-friends: fmoke, and lukewarm
Is your perfection. This is Timon's laft; [water
Who ftuck and fpangled with your flatteries,
Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
Your reaking villany. Live loath'd, and long,
Moft fmiling, fmooth, detefted Parasites,
Courteous deftroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time-flies,
Cap-and-knee-flaves, vapors, and minute-jacks;
Of man and beaft the infinite malady

Cruft you quite o'er!What doft thou go?
Soft, take thy phyfic firft--thou too-and thou-
[Throwing the dishes at them, and drives 'em out.
Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.
What! all in motion ? henceforth be no feaft,
Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
Burn House, fink Athens, henceforth hated be
Of Timon, man, and all humanity!

Re-enter the Senators.

1 Sen. How now, my lords?

[Exeunt.

2 Sen. Know you the quality of lord Timon's fury! 3 Sen. Pha! did you fee my cap?

4 Sen. I've loft my gown.

1 Sen. He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has beat it out of my cap. Did you fee my jewel?

2 Sen. Did you fee my cap?

3 Sen. Here 'tis.

4 Sen. Here lies my gown.

L Sen. Let's make no ftay.

2 Sen. Lord Timon's mad.

3 Sen. I feel't upon my bones.

4 Sen. One day he gives us diamonds, next day

ftones.

A C T IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

་་

Without the Walls of Athens.

Enter TIMON.

ET me look back upon thee, O thou Wall,
That girdleft in thofe wolves! dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in children; flaves and fools
Pluck the grave wrinkled Senate from the bench,
And minister in their fteads: To general filths
Convert o'th' inftant, green Virginity!

Do't in your parents' eyes. Bankrupts, hold faft;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trufters' throats. Bound fervants, fteal;
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law. Maid, to thy mafter's bed;
Thy miftrefs is o'th' brothel. Son of fixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping fire,
And with it beat his brains out! Fear and Piety,
Religion to the Gods, peace, juftice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-reft, and neighbourhood,
Inftruction, manners, myfteries and trades,
Degrees, obfervances, cuftoms and laws,"

Decline to your confounding contraries!

And yet Confufion live!-Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap

On Athens, ripe for ftroke! Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our fenators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners. Luft and Liberty
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,

That

1.

That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may ftrive,
And drown themselves in riot! Itches, Blains,
Sow all the Athenian bofoms, and their Crop
Be general Leprofy: breath infect breath,
That their fociety (as their friendship) may
Be merely poifon. Nothing I'll bear from thee,
But nakednefs, thou deteftable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying banns:
Timon will to the Woods, where he fhall find
Th' unkindeft beaft much kinder than mankind.
The Gods confound (hear me, ye good Gods ally
Th' Athenians both within and out that wall;
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow,
To the whole Race of Mankind, high and low!

Changes to Timon's Houfe.

Enter Flavius, with two or three fervants.

[Exit.

1 Ser. HEAR you, good master steward, where's

Our mafter?

Are we undone, caft off, nothing remaining?

Flav. Alack, my fellows, what should I fay to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods, I am as poor as you.

1 Sen. Such a houfe broke!

So noble a mafter fall'n! all gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him?

2 Ser. As we do turn our backs

From our companion, thrown into his grave,
So his familiars from his buried fortunes
Slink all away; leave their falfe vows with him,
Like empty purfes pick'd: and his poor felf,

A dedicated beggar to the air,

With his disease of all-fhunn'd poverty,
Walks, like Contempt, alone.

More of our fellows.

Enter

Enter other fervants.

Flav. All broken implements of a ruin'd house! 3 Ser. Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery, That fee I by our faces; we are fellows ftill, Serving alike in forrow. Leak'd is our bark, And we poor mates, ftand on the dying deck, Hearing the furges threat: we must all part Into the fea of air.

Flav. Good fellows all,

The latest of my wealth I'll fhare amongst you.
Where-ever we fhall meet, for Timon's fake,
Let's yet be fellows: fhake our heads, and fay,
(As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes)
We have seen better days. Let each take fome;
Nay, put out all your hands; not one word more,
Thus part we rich in forrow, parting poor.

[He gives them money; they embrace, and
part feveral ways.

Oh, the first wretchednefs that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to mifery and contempt ?
Who'd be fo mock'd with glory, as to live
But in a dream of friendship?

To have his Pomp, and all what State compounds,
But only painted, like his varnifh'd friends!
Poor honeft lord! brought low by his own heart,
Undone by goodness: ftrange unusual blood,
When man's worft fin is, he does too much good.
Who then dares to be half fo kind again?
For bounty, that makes Gods, does ftill mar men.
My deareft lord, bleft to be moft accurs'd,
Rich only to be wretched; thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ungrateful Seat
Of monstrous friends; nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it:
I'll follow and enquire him out.

I'll ever ferve his mind with my best will;
Whilft I have gold, I'll be his Steward ftill. [Exit.

Rotten humidity below thy fifter's orb

Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whole procreation, refidence, and birth

Scarce is dividant, touch with feveral fortunes.
The greater fcorns the leffer. Not ev'n nature,
To whom all fores lay fiege, can bear great fortune.
But by contempt of nature.

Raife me this beggar, and denude that lord,
The fenator fhall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:

It is the Pafture lards the Weather's fides,
The Want that makes him lean... Who dares, who
dares, ot!

In purity of manhood stand upright,

*

And say, this man's a flatterer? if one be,
So are they all, for every greeze of fortune
Is fmooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique :
There's nothing level in our curfed natures,
But direct villany. Then be abhorr'd,
All feafts, focieties, and throngs of men!
His Semblable, yea, himself, Timon difdains.-
Destruction phang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
[Digging the earth.
Who feeks for better of thee, fauce his palate
With thy moft operant poifon !What is here?

For every greeze of fortune.] Greeze or Step or Degree.

Mr. Pope.

Gold?