ACT IV.
SCENE I. Without the Walls of Athens.
Enter TIMON
TIMON. 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 [6]
Convert o’ the instant, green virginity! [7]
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! [10]
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are
And pill by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed! [12]
Thy mistress is o’ the brothel. Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, [14]
With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear,
Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries, [20]
And let confusion live! Plagues incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty [25]
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
That ’gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms, and their crop
Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, [30]
That their society, as their friendship, may
Be merely poison! Nothing I’ll bear from thee
But nakedness, thou detestable town!
Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! [34]
Timon will to the woods, where he shall find
The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
The gods confound—hear me, you good gods all!—
The 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! [40]
Amen. [Exit.
SCENE II. Athens. Timon’s House.
Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants
FIRST SERV. Hear you, master steward, where’s our master?
Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?
FLAV. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
I am as poor as you.
FIRST SERV. Such a house broke!
So noble a master fall’n! All gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him!
SEC. SERV. As we do turn our backs
From our companion thrown into his grave,
So his familiars to his buried fortunes [10]
Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick’d; and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shunn’d poverty,
Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. [15]
Enter other Servants
FLAV. All broken implements of a ruin’d house.
THIRD SERV. Yet do our hearts wear Timon’s livery; That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow: leak’d is our bark,
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, [20]
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.
FLAV. Good fellows all,
The latest of my wealth I’ll share amongst you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon’s sake
Let’s yet be fellows; let’s shake our heads, and say,
As ’t were a knell unto our master’s fortunes,
“We have seen better days.” Let each take some.
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
[Servants embrace, and part several ways.
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! [30]
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 live
But in a dream of friendship? [35]
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, [38]
Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
When man’s worst sin is, he does too much good! [40]
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
My dearest lord, blest to be most accursed,
Rich only to be wretched, thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
He’s flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
Of monstrous friends; nor has he with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it.
I’ll follow, and inquire him out:
I’ll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold, I’ll be his steward still. [Exit.
SCENE ...