We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come hither. Enter another Watchman, with FRIAR LAURENCE. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and We took this mattock and'this spade from him, [weeps; As he was coming from this churchyard side. 1 Watch. A great suspicion: stay the friar too. Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest? Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? La. Cap. The people in the street cry Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears? 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. [comes. Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. [man; Cap. O heavens!-0 wife! look how our daughter This dagger hath mista'en-for lo! his house [bleeds! Is empty on the back of Montague,And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom. La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre. Enter MONTAGUE and others. Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?Sirrah, what made your master in this place? Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb; Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Mon. But I can give thee more: For I will raise her statue in pure gold; Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; Poor sacrifices of our enmity! Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings, Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; [Exeunt ACT I. SCENE I.-ATHENS. A Hall in TIMON's House. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors. Poet. Good day, Sir. Pain. I am glad you are well. Poet. I have not seen you long; how goes the world? Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows. Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. Jew. I have a jewel here. Mer. O, pray, let's see 't; for the lord Timon, Sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for thatPoet. [Reciting to himself.] "When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.” Mer. Looking at the jewel.] 'Tis a good form. Pain. You are rapt, Sir, in some work, some dedica. To the great lord. [tion But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on, Pain. How shall I understand you? You see how all conditions, how all minds Pain. I saw them speak together. Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states: amongst them all, Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, One do I personate of lord Timon's frame, Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals. Pain. 'Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, To climb his happiness, would be well express'd Poet. Nay, Sir, but hear me on: All those which were his fellows but of late, Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. Pain. 'Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can shew, That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt; To those have shut him up; which failing to him, Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well; I am not of that feather, to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman that well deserves a help,- Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him. Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. The man is honest. Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon: His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter. Tim. Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young, and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid? Luc. Ay, my good lord; and she accepts of it. Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served me long: To build his fortune I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: And make him weigh with her. Old Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you! [Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lord ship! Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept. Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; Pain. The gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under praise. Jew. What, my lord? dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd, It would unclew me quite. Jew. My lord, 'tis rated Mer. He'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. Apem. Are they not Athenians? Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus. Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus. Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon. Tim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That's a deed thou 'lt die for. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? Apem. The best for the innocence. Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it? Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. You are a dog. Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; what's she, if I be a dog? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? Apem. No; I eat not lords." Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'dst anger ladies. Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy labour. Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit. Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How now, poet? Poet. How now, philosopher? Apem. Thou liest. Poet. Art not one? Apem. Yes. Poet. Then I lie not. Apem. Art not a poet? Poet. Yes. And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey. Alcib. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, Sir: Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt all but APEMANTUS. Enter two Lords. 1 Lord. What time o' day is 't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest. 1 Lord. That time serves still. Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, LUCIUS, LUCULLUS, SEMPRONIUS, and other Athenian Senators, with VENTIDIUS, and Attendants. Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly. Ven. Most honour'd Timon, 't hath pleased the gods remember My father's age, and call him to long peace. Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound Tim. O, by no means, Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: I gave it freely ever; and there's none If our betters play at that game, we must not dare [They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON. Tim. Nay, my lords, ceremony Was but devised at first to set a gloss But where there is true friendship there needs none. [They sit. 1 Lord. My lord, we have always confess'd ít. You shall not make me welcome: I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. Tim. Fie, thou art a churl; you have got a humour Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.- [there They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est; But yond' man's ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself; For he does neither affect company, Nor is he fit for it, indeed. Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, Timon: I come to observe; I give thee warning on't. Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I Ne'er flatter thee.-Ö you gods, what a number [should Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat In one man's blood; and all the madness is, I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been proved. Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: A brave fellow!-he keeps his tides well.-Timon, Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; Or my friends, if I should need 'em. Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks. Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. Alcib. My heart is ever at your service, my lord. Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies, than a dinner of friends. Alcib. So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat like them; I could wish my best friend at such a feast. Apem. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em, and bid me to 'em. 1 Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect. Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends; but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you: how had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we e'er have use for them; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to forget their faults, I drink to you. Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up. Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. 3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. Apem. Much! [Tucket sounded. Tim. What means that trump?-How now? Like madness is the glory of this life, Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. As this pomp shews to a little oil and root. With poisonous spite and envy. Who lives, that's not Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift? The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and, to shew their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease. Flav. My lord? Tim. The little casket bring me hither. Flav. Yes, my lord. [Aside.] More jewels yet! There is no crossing him in his humour; Else I should tell him well, i' faith, I should: When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could. 'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. [Exit, and returns with the casket. 1 Lord. Where be our men? 2 Lord. Our horses! Tim. O my friends, I have one word To say to you:-look you, my good lord, I must Accept and wear it, kind my lord. 1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,All. So are we all. Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate Newly alighted, and come to visit you. Tim. They are fairly welcome. Flav. I beseech your honour, Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. Tim. Near? why then another time I'll hear thee: I pr'ythee, let us be provided To shew them entertainment. Flav. [Aside.] I scarce know how. Enter another Servant. 2 Serv. May it please your honour, the lord Lucius, Out of his free love, hath presented to you Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. Tim. I shall accept them fairly: let the presents Enter a third Servant. Be worthily entertain'd.-How now! what news? 3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him; and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds. Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, Not without fair reward. Flav. [Aside] What will this come to? He commands us to provide and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer. Nor will he know his purse; or yield me this, To shew him what a beggar his heart is, That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes Happier is he that has no friend to feed, I bleed inwardly for my lord. Tim. You do yourselves [Exit. Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: 2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive 3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! [it Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you gave Good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on it is yours, because you liked it. 2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. Tim. You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man Can justly praise, but what he does affect: I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; All Lords. None so welcome. Tim. I take all and your several visitations So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends, And ne'er be weary.-Alcibiades, Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living Alcib. Ay, defiled land, my lord. 1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound,— Tim. And so Am I to you. 2 Lord. So infinitely endear'd, Tim. All to you.-Lights, more lights! 1 Lord. The best of happiness, Honour and fortunes, keep with you, lord Timon! [Exeunt ALCIBIADES, Lords, de Apem. What a coil's here! Serving of becks, and jutting out of bums! I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums Apem. No, I'll nothing: for If I should be bribed too, there would be none left Thou giv'st so long, Timon, I fear me, thou Wilt give away thyself in paper shortly: What need these feasts, pomps, and vain-glories? Tim. Nay, SCENE L.-ATHENS. ACT II. [Exit. A Room in a Senator's House. Enter a Senator, with papers in his hand. Sen. And late, five thousand to Varro; and to Isidore He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, Which makes it five-and-twenty. Still in motion Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold: If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight And able horses: no porter at his gate; But rather one that smiles, and still invites All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! Caphis, I say! Enter CAPHIS, Caph. Here, Sir; what is your pleasure? Sen. Get on your cloak, and haste you to lord Timon; Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased With slight denial; nor then silenced, when"Commend me to your master"-and the cap Plays in the right hand, thus:-but tell him, sirrah, My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn Out of mine own; his days and times are past, And my reliances on his fracted dates Have smit my credit: I love and honour him; But must not break my back to heal his finger: Immediate are my needs; and my relief Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, But find supply immediate. Get you gone: Put on a most importunate aspect, A visage of demand; for, I do fear, |