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    Act IV. Scene III

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    Chapter 13
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    SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore.

    Enter TIMON, from the cave
    O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
    Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
    Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
    Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
    Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes;
    The greater scorns the lesser: not nature,
    To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
    But by contempt of nature.
    Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord;
    The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
    The beggar native honour.
    It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
    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 grise 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 villany. 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 votarist: 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 accursed,
    Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves
    And give them title, knee and approbation
    With senators on the bench: this is it
    That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
    She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
    Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
    To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
    Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds
    Among the route of nations, I will make thee
    Do thy right nature.

    March afar off

    Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick,
    But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief,
    When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
    Nay, stay thou out for earnest.

    Keeping some gold

    Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA

    ALCIBIADES
    What art thou there? speak.

    TIMON
    A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,
    For showing me again the eyes of man!

    ALCIBIADES
    What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,
    That art thyself a man?

    TIMON
    I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
    For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
    That I might love thee something.

    ALCIBIADES
    I know thee well;
    But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

    TIMON
    I know thee too; and more than that I know thee,
    I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
    With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:
    Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
    Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
    Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
    For all her cherubim look.

    PHRYNIA
    Thy lips rot off!

    TIMON
    I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
    To thine own lips again.

    ALCIBIADES
    How came the noble Timon to this change?

    TIMON
    As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
    But then renew I could not, like the moon;
    There were no suns to borrow of.

    ALCIBIADES
    Noble Timon,
    What friendship may I do thee?

    TIMON
    None, but to
    Maintain my opinion.

    ALCIBIADES
    What is it, Timon?

    TIMON
    Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou
    wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art
    a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for
    thou art a man!

    ALCIBIADES
    I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

    TIMON
    Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

    ALCIBIADES
    I see them now; then was a blessed time.

    TIMON
    As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

    TIMANDRA
    Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world
    Voiced so regardfully?

    TIMON
    Art thou Timandra?

    TIMANDRA
    Yes.

    TIMON
    Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee;
    Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
    Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
    For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth
    To the tub-fast and the diet.

    TIMANDRA
    Hang thee, monster!

    ALCIBIADES
    Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits
    Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
    I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
    The want whereof doth daily make revolt
    In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved,
    How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
    Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
    But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,--

    TIMON
    I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

    ALCIBIADES
    I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

    TIMON
    How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
    I had rather be alone.

    ALCIBIADES
    Why, fare thee well:
    Here is some gold for thee.

    TIMON
    Keep it, I cannot eat it.

    ALCIBIADES
    When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,--

    TIMON
    Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

    ALCIBIADES
    Ay, Timon, and have cause.

    TIMON
    The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
    And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!

    ALCIBIADES
    Why me, Timon?

    TIMON
    That, by killing of villains,
    Thou wast born to conquer my country.
    Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on;
    Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
    Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison
    In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one:
    Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;
    He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;
    It is her habit only that is honest,
    Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek
    Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
    That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
    Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
    But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,
    Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
    Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
    Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
    And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;
    Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;
    Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
    Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
    Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:
    Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
    Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

    ALCIBIADES
    Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou
    givest me,
    Not all thy counsel.

    TIMON
    Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse
    upon thee!

    PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
    Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?

    TIMON
    Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
    And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
    Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,
    Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear
    Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
    The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths,
    I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;
    And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
    Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
    Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
    And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,
    Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs
    With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd,
    No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still;
    Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,
    A pox of wrinkles!

    PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
    Well, more gold: what then?
    Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.

    TIMON
    Consumptions sow
    In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
    And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
    That he may never more false title plead,
    Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
    That scolds against the quality of flesh,
    And not believes himself: down with the nose,
    Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
    Of him that, his particular to foresee,
    Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
    ruffians bald;
    And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
    Derive some pain from you: plague all;
    That your activity may defeat and quell
    The source of all erection. There's more gold:
    Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
    And ditches grave you all!

    PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
    More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.

    TIMON
    More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

    ALCIBIADES
    Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:
    If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

    TIMON
    If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

    ALCIBIADES
    I never did thee harm.

    TIMON
    Yes, thou spokest well of me.

    ALCIBIADES
    Call'st thou that harm?

    TIMON
    Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
    Thy beagles with thee.

    ALCIBIADES
    We but offend him. Strike!

    Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA

    TIMON
    That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
    Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,

    Digging

    Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
    Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
    Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
    Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
    The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
    With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
    Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
    Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
    From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
    Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
    Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
    Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
    Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
    Hath to the marbled mansion all above
    Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!--
    Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
    Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts
    And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
    That from it all consideration slips!

    Enter APEMANTUS

    More man? plague, plague!

    APEMANTUS
    I was directed hither: men report
    Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

    TIMON
    'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
    Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

    APEMANTUS
    This is in thee a nature but infected;
    A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
    From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
    This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
    Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
    Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
    That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
    By putting on the cunning of a carper.
    Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
    By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
    And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
    Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
    And call it excellent: thou wast told thus;
    Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome
    To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just
    That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,
    Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness.

    TIMON
    Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.

    APEMANTUS
    Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
    A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
    That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
    Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,
    That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
    And skip where thou point'st out? will the
    cold brook,
    Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
    To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
    Whose naked natures live in an the spite
    Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
    To the conflicting elements exposed,
    Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
    O, thou shalt find--

    TIMON
    A fool of thee: depart.

    APEMANTUS
    I love thee better now than e'er I did.

    TIMON
    I hate thee worse.

    APEMANTUS
    Why?

    TIMON
    Thou flatter'st misery.

    APEMANTUS
    I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.

    TIMON
    Why dost thou seek me out?

    APEMANTUS
    To vex thee.

    TIMON
    Always a villain's office or a fool's.
    Dost please thyself in't?

    APEMANTUS
    Ay.

    TIMON
    What! a knave too?

    APEMANTUS
    If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
    To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
    Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again,
    Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
    Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before:
    The one is filling still, never complete;
    The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,
    Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
    Worse than the worst, content.
    Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

    TIMON
    Not by his breath that is more miserable.
    Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
    With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
    Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
    The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
    To such as may the passive drugs of it
    Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
    In general riot; melted down thy youth
    In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
    The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
    The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
    Who had the world as my confectionary,
    The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men
    At duty, more than I could frame employment,
    That numberless upon me stuck as leaves
    Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush
    Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare
    For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,
    That never knew but better, is some burden:
    Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
    Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
    They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?
    If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
    Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff
    To some she beggar and compounded thee
    Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!
    If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
    Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

    APEMANTUS
    Art thou proud yet?

    TIMON
    Ay, that I am not thee.

    APEMANTUS
    I, that I was
    No prodigal.

    TIMON
    I, that I am one now:
    Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
    I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.
    That the whole life of Athens were in this!
    Thus would I eat it.

    Eating a root

    APEMANTUS
    Here; I will mend thy feast.

    Offering him a root

    TIMON
    First mend my company, take away thyself.

    APEMANTUS
    So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

    TIMON
    'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
    if not, I would it were.

    APEMANTUS
    What wouldst thou have to Athens?

    TIMON
    Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
    Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

    APEMANTUS
    Here is no use for gold.

    TIMON
    The best and truest;
    For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

    APEMANTUS
    Where liest o' nights, Timon?

    TIMON
    Under that's above me.
    Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

    APEMANTUS
    Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat
    it.

    TIMON
    Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!

    APEMANTUS
    Where wouldst thou send it?

    TIMON
    To sauce thy dishes.

    APEMANTUS
    The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
    extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt
    and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much
    curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art
    despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for
    thee, eat it.

    TIMON
    On what I hate I feed not.

    APEMANTUS
    Dost hate a medlar?

    TIMON
    Ay, though it look like thee.

    APEMANTUS
    An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst
    have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou
    ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

    TIMON
    Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou
    ever know beloved?

    APEMANTUS
    Myself.

    TIMON
    I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a
    dog.

    APEMANTUS
    What things in the world canst thou nearest compare
    to thy flatterers?

    TIMON
    Women nearest; but men, men are the things
    themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world,
    Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

    APEMANTUS
    Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

    TIMON
    Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of
    men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

    APEMANTUS
    Ay, Timon.

    TIMON
    A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'
    attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would
    beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would
    eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would
    suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by
    the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would
    torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a
    breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy
    greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst
    hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the
    unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and
    make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert
    thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse:
    wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the
    leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to
    the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on
    thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy
    defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that
    were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art
    thou already, that seest not thy loss in
    transformation!

    APEMANTUS
    If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
    mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of
    Athens is become a forest of beasts.

    TIMON
    How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

    APEMANTUS
    Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of
    company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it
    and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll
    see thee again.

    TIMON
    When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
    welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

    APEMANTUS
    Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

    TIMON
    Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!

    APEMANTUS
    A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.

    TIMON
    All villains that do stand by thee are pure.

    APEMANTUS
    There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

    TIMON
    If I name thee.
    I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.

    APEMANTUS
    I would my tongue could rot them off!

    TIMON
    Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
    Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
    I swound to see thee.

    APEMANTUS
    Would thou wouldst burst!

    TIMON
    Away,
    Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
    A stone by thee.

    Throws a stone at him

    APEMANTUS
    Beast!

    TIMON
    Slave!

    APEMANTUS
    Toad!

    TIMON
    Rogue, rogue, rogue!
    I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
    But even the mere necessities upon 't.
    Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
    Lie where the light foam the sea may beat
    Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,
    That death in me at others' lives may laugh.

    To the gold

    O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
    'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
    Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
    Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,
    Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
    That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
    That solder'st close impossibilities,
    And makest them kiss! that speak'st with
    every tongue,
    To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
    Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
    Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
    May have the world in empire!

    APEMANTUS
    Would 'twere so!
    But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold:
    Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

    TIMON
    Throng'd to!

    APEMANTUS
    Ay.

    TIMON
    Thy back, I prithee.

    APEMANTUS
    Live, and love thy misery.

    TIMON
    Long live so, and so die.

    Exit APEMANTUS

    I am quit.
    Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

    Enter Banditti

    First Bandit
    Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
    fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the
    mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his
    friends, drove him into this melancholy.

    Second Bandit
    It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

    Third Bandit
    Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not
    for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously
    reserve it, how shall's get it?

    Second Bandit
    True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

    First Bandit
    Is not this he?

    Banditti
    Where?

    Second Bandit
    'Tis his description.

    Third Bandit
    He; I know him.

    Banditti
    Save thee, Timon.

    TIMON
    Now, thieves?

    Banditti
    Soldiers, not thieves.

    TIMON
    Both too; and women's sons.

    Banditti
    We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

    TIMON
    Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
    Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
    Within this mile break forth a hundred springs;
    The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips;
    The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
    Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want?

    First Bandit
    We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
    As beasts and birds and fishes.

    TIMON
    Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
    You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
    That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
    In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
    In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
    Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape,
    Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
    And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
    His antidotes are poison, and he slays
    Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
    Do villany, do, since you protest to do't,
    Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery.
    The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
    Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
    And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
    The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
    The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
    That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen
    From general excrement: each thing's a thief:
    The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
    Have uncheque'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 shops; nothing can you steal,
    But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this
    I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.

    Third Bandit
    Has almost charmed me from my profession, by
    persuading me to it.

    First Bandit
    'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises
    us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

    Second Bandit
    I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

    First Bandit
    Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time
    so miserable but a man may be true.

    Exeunt Banditti

    Enter FLAVIUS

    FLAVIUS
    O you gods!
    Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord?
    Full of decay and failing? O monument
    And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
    What an alteration of honour
    Has desperate want made!
    What viler thing upon the earth than friends
    Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
    How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
    When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
    Grant I may ever love, and rather woo
    Those that would mischief me than those that do!
    Has caught me in his eye: I will present
    My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
    Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!

    TIMON
    Away! what art thou?

    FLAVIUS
    Have you forgot me, sir?

    TIMON
    Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
    Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee.

    FLAVIUS
    An honest poor servant of yours.

    TIMON
    Then I know thee not:
    I never had honest man about me, I; all
    I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.

    FLAVIUS
    The gods are witness,
    Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
    For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.

    TIMON
    What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I
    love thee,
    Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
    Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give
    But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
    Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!

    FLAVIUS
    I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
    To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts
    To entertain me as your steward still.

    TIMON
    Had I a steward
    So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
    It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
    Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
    Was born of woman.
    Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
    You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
    One honest man--mistake me not--but one;
    No more, I pray,--and he's a steward.
    How fain would I have hated all mankind!
    And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee,
    I fell with curses.
    Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
    For, by oppressing and betraying me,
    Thou mightst have sooner got another service:
    For many so arrive at second masters,
    Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true--
    For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure--
    Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
    If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,
    Expecting in return twenty for one?

    FLAVIUS
    No, my most worthy master; in whose breast
    Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late:
    You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:
    Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
    That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
    Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,
    Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
    My most honour'd lord,
    For any benefit that points to me,
    Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange
    For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
    To requite me, by making rich yourself.

    TIMON
    Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,
    Here, take: the gods out of my misery
    Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy;
    But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men;
    Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
    But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
    Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs
    What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
    Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like
    blasted woods,
    And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
    And so farewell and thrive.

    FLAVIUS
    O, let me stay,
    And comfort you, my master.

    TIMON
    If thou hatest curses,
    Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free:
    Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.

    Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave
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