The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/36/05_01

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 12KB | 344 lines

Enter POET and PAINTER.

Painter    As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he
    abides.

Poet    What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true
    that he's so full of gold?

Painter    Certain. Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had
    gold of him; he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers
    with great quantity. 'Tis said he gave unto his steward a
    mighty sum.

Poet    Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his
    friends.

Painter    Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens again, and
    flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis not amiss we
    tender our loves to him in this supposed distress of his;
    it will show honestly in us, and is very likely to load our
    purposes with what they travail for, if it be a just and
    true report that goes of his having.

Poet    What have you now to present unto him?

Painter    Nothing at this time but my visitation; only I will promise
    him an excellent piece.

Poet    I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's
    coming toward him.

Painter    Good as the best. Promising is the very air o'th' time; it
    opens the eyes of expectation. Performance is ever the
    duller for his act, and but in the plainer and simpler kind
    of people the deed of saying is quite out of use. To
    promise is most courtly and fashionable; performance is a
    kind of will or testament which argues a great sickness in
    his judgment that makes it.

                        Enter TIMON from his cave.

Timon    [Aside.] Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so
    bad as is thyself.

Poet    I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him. It
    must be a personating of himself, a satire against the
    softness of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite
    flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

Timon    [Aside.] Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own
    work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so,
    I have gold for thee.

Poet    Nay, let's seek him.
    Then do we sin against our own estate
    When we may profit meet and come too late.

Painter    True;
    When the day serves, before black-cornered night,
    Find what thou want'st by free and offered light.
    Come.

Timon    [Aside.] I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold
    That he is worshipped in a baser temple
    Than where swine feed!
    'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
    Settlest admird reverence in a slave.
    To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye
    Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey!
    [Advancing.] Fit I meet them.

Poet    Hail, worthy Timon!

Painter                        Our late noble master!

Timon    Have I once lived to see two honest men?

Poet    Sir,
    Having often of your open bounty tasted,
    Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
    Whose thankless natures - O abhorrd spirits!
    Not all the whips of heaven are large enough-
    What, to you,
    Whose starlike nobleness gave life and influence
    To their whole being! - I am rapt, and cannot cover
    The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
    With any size of words.

Timon    Let it go naked; men may see't the better.
    You, that are honest, by being what you are
    Make them best seen and known.

Painter                                    He and myself
    Have travelled in the great shower of your gifts,
    And sweetly felt it.

Timon                        Ay, you are honest men.

Painter    We are hither come to offer you our service.

Timon    Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
    Can you eat roots and drink cold water? No?

Poet &
Painter    What we can do we'll do, to do you service.

Timon    Y'are honest men. Y've heard that I have gold?
    I am sure you have - Speak truth; y'are honest men.

Painter    So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
    Came not my friend nor I.

Timon    Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
    Best in all Athens. Th'art indeed the best;
    Thou counterfeit'st most lively.

Painter                                    So, so, my lord.

Timon    E'en so, sir, as I say. And for thy fiction,
    Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
    That thou art even natural in thine art.
    But, for all this, my honest-natured friends,
    I must needs say you have a little fault.
    Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
    You take much pains to mend.

Poet &
Painter                                Beseech your honour
    To make it known to us.

Timon                            You'll take it ill.

Poet &
Painter    Most thankfully, my lord.

Timon                                Will you indeed?

Poet &
Painter    Doubt it not, worthy lord.

Timon    There's never a one of you but trusts a knave
    That mightily deceives you.

Poet &
Painter                                    Do we, my lord?

Timon    Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
    Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
    Keep in your bosom; yet remain assured
    That he's a made-up villain.

Painter    I know none such, my lord.

Poet                                Nor I.

Timon    Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,
    Rid me these villains from your companies.
    Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
    Confound them by some course, and come to me,
    I'll give you gold enough.

Poet &
Painter    Name them, my lord; let's know them.

Timon    You that way and you this, but two in company;
    Each man apart, all single and alone,
    Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
    [To PAINTER.] If where thou art two villains shall not be,
    Come not near him. [To POET.] If thou wouldst not reside
    But where one villain is, then him abandon.
    Hence, pack! There's gold - you came for gold, ye slaves.
    [To POET, throwing stones at him.]
    You have work for me, there's payment. Hence!
    [To PAINTER, throwing stones at him.]
    You are an alchemist, make gold of that!
    Out, rascal dogs!
                                       [Exeunt POET and PAINTER.

                      TIMON withdraws into his cave.

                     Enter FLAVIUS and two SENATORS.

Flavius    It is vain that you would speak with Timon;
    For he is set so only to himself
    That nothing but himself which looks like man
    Is friendly with him.

1st Senator                            Bring us to his cave.
    It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
    To speak with Timon.

2nd Senator                        At all times alike
    Men are not still the same. 'Twas time and griefs
    That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand
    Offering the fortunes of his former days,
    The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
    And chance it as it may.

Flavius                            Here is his cave.
    Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
    Look out, and speak to friends. Th' Athenians
    By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee.
    Speak to them, noble Timon.

                     Re-enter TIMON, out of his cave.

Timon    Thou sun that comforts, burn! Speak, and be hanged!
    For each true word a blister, and each false
    Be as a cauterizing to the root o'th' tongue,
    Consuming it with speaking!

1st Senator                                Worthy Timon-

Timon    Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

1st Senator    The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Timon    I thank them, and would send them back the plague,
    Could I but catch it for them.

1st Senator                                    O, forget
    What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
    The senators with one consent of love
    Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought
    On special dignities which vacant lie
    For thy best use and wearing.

2nd Senator                                    They confess
    Toward thee forgetfulness too general gross;
    Which now the public body, which doth seldom
    Play the recanter, feeling in itself
    A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
    Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon,
    And send forth us to make their sorrowed render
    Together with a recompense more fruitful
    Than their offence can weigh down by the dram.
    Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
    As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
    And write in thee the figures of their love,
    Ever to read them thine.

Timon                            You witch me in it,
    Surprise me to the very brink of tears.
    Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
    And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

1st Senator    Therefore so please thee to return with us,
    And of our Athens - thine and ours - to take
    The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
    Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name
    Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back
    Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
    Who like a boar too savage doth root up
    His country's peace.

2nd Senator                        And shakes his threat'ning sword
    Against the walls of Athens.

1st Senator                                Therefore, Timon-

Timon    Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir, thus:
    If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
    Let Alcibiades know this of Timon-
    That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
    And take our goodly agd men by th' beards,
    Giving our holy virgins to the stain
    Of contumelious, beastly, madbrained war,
    Then let him know - and tell him Timon speaks it
    In pity of our agd and our youth-
    I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
    And - let him take't at worst - for their knives care not
    While you have throats to answer. For myself,
    There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp
    But I do prize it at my love before
    The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
    To the protection of the prosperous gods,
    As thieves to keepers.

Flavius                            Stay not; all's in vain.

Timon    Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
    It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness
    Of health and living now begins to mend,
    And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
    Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
    And last so long enough.

1st Senator                            We speak in vain.

Timon    But yet I love my country, and am not
    One that rejoices in the common wrack,
    As common bruit doth put it.

1st Senator                                That's well spoke.

Timon    Commend me to my loving countrymen-

1st Senator    These words become your lips as they pass through them.

2nd Senator    And enter in our ears like great triumphers
    In their applauding gates.

Timon                                Commend me to them,
    And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
    Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
    Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
    That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
    In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
    I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

1st Senator    I like this well. He will return again.

Timon    I have a tree which grows here in my close
    That mine own use invites me to cut down,
    And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends,
    Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
    From high to low throughout, that whoso please
    To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
    Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe,
    And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.

Flavius    Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.

Timon    Come not to me again; but say to Athens
    Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
    Upon the beachd verge of the salt flood,
    Who once a day with his embossd froth
    The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come,
    And let my gravestone be your oracle.
    Lips, let sour words go by and language end.
    What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
    Graves only be men's works, and death their gain.
    Sun, hide thy beams, Timon hath done his reign.
                                                    [Exit, into his cave.
1st Senator    His discontents are unremovably
    Coupled to nature.

2nd Senator    Our hope in him is dead. Let us return,
    And strain what other means is left unto us
    In our dear peril.

1st Senator                        It requires swift foot.
                                                    [Exeunt.