SCENE IIA banqueting-room in Timon's house.
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending;
then enter LORD TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself.
Most honour'd Timon,
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age,
And call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: (10)
I gave it freely ever; and there's none
Can truly say he gives, if he receives:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.
A noble spirit!
Nay, my lords, [They all stand ceremoniously looking on Timon.
Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes (20)
Than my fortunes to me. [They sit.
My lord, we always have confess'd it.
Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?
O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
You shall not make me welcome:
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye 've got a humour there
Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.
They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but
yond man is ever angry. Go, let him have a
table by himself, for he does neither affect
company, nor is he fit for 't, indeed. (32)
Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon:
I come to observe; I give thee warning on 't.
I take no heed of thee; thou 'rt an
Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would
have no power; prithee, let my meat make
I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke
me, for I should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods,
what a number of men eat Timon, and he sees
'em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their
meat in one man's blood; and all the madness
is, he cheers them up too.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
Methinks they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There's much example for 't; the fellow that
sits next him now, parts bread with him,
pledges the breath of him in a divided draught,
is the readiest man to kill him: 't has been
proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear
to drink at meals; (52)
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Flow this way! A brave fellow he
keeps his tides well. Those healths will make
thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here's that
which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water,
which ne'er left man i' the mire: (61)
This and my food are equals; there's no odds;
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods, Apemantus' grace.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself:
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot, for her weeping;
Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping; (70)
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't:
Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks.
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!
Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in
the field now.
My heart is ever at your service, my
You had rather be at a breakfast of
enemies than a dinner of friends.
So they were bleeding-new, my lord,
there's no meat like 'em: I could wish my
best friend at such a feast.
Would all those flatterers were thine
enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em
and bid me to 'em!
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
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 not you 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 ne'er have need of 'em? they were
the most needless creatures living, should we
ne'er have use for 'em, 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't can be
born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks:
to forget their faults, I drink to you.
Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.
Joy had the like conception in our eyes
And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
Much! [Tucket, within.
What means that trump? Enter a Servant.
Please you, my lord, there are certain
ladies most desirous of admittance.
Ladies! what are their wills?
There comes with them a forerunner,
my lord, which bears that office, to signify
I pray, let them be admitted. Enter CUPID.
Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
That of his bounties taste! The five best senses (130)
Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear,
Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy table rise;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance:
Music, make their welcome! [Exit Cupid.
You see, my lord, how ample you 're beloved. Music.
Re-enter CUPID, with a mask of
Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their
hands, dancing and playing.
Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
They dance! they are mad women.
Like madness is the glory of this life, (140)
As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again,
With poisonous spite and envy.
Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friends' gift?
I should fear those that dance before me now
Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; (150)
Men shut their doors against a setting sun. The Lords rise from table, with much adoring
of TIMON; and to show their loves, each
singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men
with women, a lofty strain or two to the
hautboys, and cease.
You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
You have added worth unto 't and lustre,
And entertain'd me with mine own device;
I am to thank you for 't.
My lord, you take us even at the best.
'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and
would not hold taking, I doubt me. (160)
Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you:
Please you to dispose yourselves.
Most thankfully, my lord. Exeunt Cupid and Ladies.
The little casket bring me hither.
Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! [Aside.]
There is no crossing him in's humour;
Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith, I should,
When all's spent, he'ld 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.
Where be our men?
Here, my lord, in readiness.
Our horses! Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket.
O my friends,
I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,
I must entreat you, honour me so much
As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,
Kind my lord.
I am so far already in your gifts,--
So are we all. Enter a Servant.
My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate
Newly alighted, and come to visit you.
They are fairly welcome.
I beseech your honour,
Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.
Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee:
I prithee, let's be provided to show the entertainment.
I scarce know how. Enter a second Servant.
May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. (190)
I shall accept them fairly; let the presents
Be worthily entertain'd. Enter a third Servant.
How now! what news?
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.
I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,
Not without fair reward.
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, (201)
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good:
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
For every word; he is so kind that he now
Pays interest for't; his land's put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed (210)
Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit.
You do yourselves
Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
With more than common thanks I will receive it.
O, he 's the very soul of bounty !
And now I remember, my lord, you gave
Good words the other day of a bay courser
I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it.
O, I beseech you, pardon me my lord, in that. (220)
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;
I'll tell you true. I'll call to you.
O, none so welcome.
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
Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.
Ay, defiled land, my lord.
We are so virtuously bound--
Am I to you.
So infinitely endear'd--
All to you. Lights, more lights!
The best of happiness,
Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!
Ready for his friends. [Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon.
What a coil's here!
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: (240)
Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs.
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I would be good to thee.
No, I'll nothing: for if I should be
bribed too, there would be none left to rail
upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster.
Thou givest so long, Timon, I fear me thou
wilt give away thyself in paper shortly: what
need these feasts, pomps and vain-glories?
Nay, an you begin to rail on society
once, I am sworn not to give regard to you.
Farewell; and come with better music. [Exit.
Thou wilt not hear me now; thcu shalt not then:
I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! [Exit.