Who Are Your People? : Sir Patrick Stewart

We are The Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships.

Strength is irrelevant. 

Resistance is futile. 

We wish to improve ourselves. 

We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. 

Your Culture will adapt to service Us. 

Freedom is irrelevant. 

Self Determination is irrelevant. 

Death is irrelevant.

You must comply. 

Your archaic cultures are authority driven. To facilitate our introduction into your societies, it has been decided that a Human Voice will speak for Us in all communications. 

You have been chosen to be That Voice.

Don’t Poke The Bear

JIM STARK :

She eats him alive and he takes it. 

Secondary Father :

Things pretty rough for you at home? 

JIM STARK :

That's a zoo! 

Secondary Father :

What? 

JIM STARK :

That's a zoo! 

I mean, he always wants to be my pal, you know? 

But how can I give him anything if he's... I mean, I love him and all that type of stuff. 

I don't want to hurt him. 

But then I don't know what to do anymore. 

Except maybe die. 

If he had guts to knock Mom cold ONCE...  then maybe she'd be happy and she'd stop picking on him. 

Because they make MUSH out of him! 

You know, just MUSH! 

I'll tell you one thing, I don't ever want to be like him. 

Secondary Father :

Chicken? 

JIM STARK :

I'll bet you see right through me, don't you? 

How can a guy grow up in a circus like that? 

Secondary Father :

Beats me, Jim. 

But they do. 

Want some water? 

JIM STARK :

If I had one day... when I didn't have to be all confused... and I didn't have to feel that I was ashamed of everything... 

If I felt that I belonged someplace... 

You know? Then... 

Secondary Father :

Will you do something for me? 

If The Pot starts boiling again, will you see me before you get in a jam? 

If you want to talk, come in and shoot the breeze. 

It's easier sometimes than talking to your folks. 

Anytime, night or day. 

The Thanantological Context of The Serial Killer

“ The more I looked into it, the more I began to see that we have these mutants living among us, right now. 

The people from the 21st century; from the end of the 21st century are here. 

But there is no context for them. 

In the same way that – y’know, if you lived in… Tunguska two hundred years ago, and you were an epileptic, you would be a shaman. 

There was a context for you. 

In this society, you’re an epileptic. 

It’s quite simple; it’s a disease, and nothing you say is of any worth because it’s considered pathology.

If, on the other hand, you look at these people, who are The Mutants… and what do they call it? 

Multiple Personality Disorder.

This is what lies beyond the personality; the “I”; the bullshit.

Because if you take “I” to the limit – and like I said, I’m sure a lot of us here have done this – it becomes… 

all that happens is that self questions self. 

Endlessly; repetitively. 

“Am I doing this right? 

Is this the right way? 

Should I think about these people like this? 

Should I approach them this way - 

Should I involve them this way?”

 Self questions self, endlessly, and it reaches a peak… it goes nowhere.

On the national scale, that same thing – self questions self; self encounters not-self; equals borders, war, destruction.. that’s where it goes. 

That’s where it ends. 

That thing ends in disaster.

It ends in neurosis on a personal level. 

And it ends in war on the national level.

So I began to think: 

“What could we replace that with?” 

And I was looking at these poor MPD fuckers. 

And I realised they just don’t have a context.


The basic hunting myth, I would say, is of a kind of covenant between The animal world and the human world, where the animal gives its life willingly. 

They are regarded generally as willing victims, with the understanding that their life, which transcends their physical entity, will be returned to the soil or to the mother through some ritual of restoration. 

And the principal rituals, for instance, and the principal divinities are associated with the main hunting animal, the animal who is the master animal, and sends the flocks to be killed, you know. 

To the Indians of the American plains, it was the buffalo. 

You go to the northwest coast, it’s the salmon. 

The great festivals have to do with the run of salmon coming in. 

When you go to South Africa, the eland, the big, magnificent antelope, is the principal animal to the Bushmen, for example.

BILL MOYERS: 

And the principal animal, the master animal

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Is the one that furnishes the food.

BILL MOYERS: 

So there grew up between human beings and animals, a bonding, as you say, which required one to be consumed by the other.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

That’s the way life is.

BILL MOYERS: 

Do you think this troubled early man, too

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Absolutely, that’s why you have the rites, because it did trouble him.

BILL MOYERS: 

What kind of rites?

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Rituals of appeasement to the animals, of thanks to the animal. 

A very interesting aspect here is the identity of the hunter with the animal.

BILL MOYERS: 

You mean, after the animal has been shot.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

After the animal has been killed, the hunter then has to fulfill certain rites in a kind of “participation mystique,” a mystic participation with the animals whose death he has brought about, and whose meat is to become his life. 

So the killing is not simply slaughter, at any rate, it’s a ritual act. 

It’s a recognition of your dependency and of the voluntary giving of this food to you by the animal who has given it. 

It’s a beautiful thing, and it turns life into a mythological experience.

BILL MOYERS: 

The hunt becomes what?

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

It becomes a ritual. 

The hunt is a ritual.

BILL MOYERS: 

Expressing a hope of resurrection, that the animal was food and you needed the animal to return.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

And some kind of respect for the animal that was killed; that’s the thing that gets me all the time in this hunting ceremonial system.

BILL MOYERS: 

Respect for the animal.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

The respect for the animal and more than respect, I mean, that animal becomes a messenger of divine power, do you see.

BILL MOYERS: 

And you wind up as the hunter killing the messenger.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Killing The God.

BILL MOYERS: 

What does this do? Does it cause guilt, does it cause

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Guilt is what is wiped out by the myth. It is not a personal act; you are performing the world of nature, For example, in Japan, in Hokkaido in northern Japan among the Ainu people, whose principal mountain deity is the bear, when it is killed there is a ceremony of feeding the bear a feast of its own flesh, as though he were present, and he is present. He’s served his own meat for dinner, and there’s a conversation between the mountain god, the bear and the people. They say, “If you’ll give us the privilege of entertaining you again, we’ll give you the privilege of another bear sacrifice. ”

BILL MOYERS: If the cave bear were not appeased, the animals wouldn’t appear, and these primitive hunters would starve to death. So they began to perceive some kind of power on which they were dependent, greater than their own.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: And that’s the power of the animal master. Now, when we sit down to a meal, we thank God, you know, or our idea of God, for having given us this. These people thanked the animal.

BILL MOYERS: And is this the first evidence we have of an act of worship.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: Yes.

BILL MOYERS: — of power superior to man?

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: Yeah.

BILL MOYERS: And the animal was superior, because the animal provided food.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: Well, now, in contrast to our relationship to animals, where we see animals as a lower form of life, and in the Bible we’re told, you know, we’re the masters and so forth, early hunting people don’t have that relationship to the animal. The animal is in many ways superior, He has powers that the human being doesn’t have.

BILL MOYERS: 

And then certain animals take on a persona, don’t they the buffalo, the raven, the eagle.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL: 

Oh, very strongly. Well, I was up on the northwest coast back in 1932, a wonderful trip, and the Indians along the way were still carving totem poles. The villages had new totem poles, still. And there we saw the ravens and we saw the eagles and we saw the animals that played roles in the myths. And they had the character, the quality, of these animals. 

It was a very intimate knowledge and friendly, neighborly, relationship to these creatures. 

And then they killed some of them. You see.

The Animal had something to do with 

the shaping of the myths of those people, 

just as the buffalo for the Indians of the plains played an enormous role. 

They are the ones that bring the tobacco gift, 

the mystical pipe and all this kind of thing, 

it comes from a buffalo. 

And when The Animal becomes The Giver of ritual and so forth, 

they do ask The Animal for advice, and the animal becomes the model for how to live.

The Faculty of Star Wars Studies

“We face not just a future of ever-greater atomization, rage and violence, but a future in which the possibility of a backlash against all rights advances – including the good ones – grows more likely. 

A future in which racism is responded to with racism, denigration based on gender is responded to with denigration based on gender. 

At some stage of humiliation there is simply no reason for majority groups not to play games back that have worked so well on themselves.”

Damn. If only I had known that there was funding available.

FISHWIVES

What are They?

Care-Takers. 

They Maintain The Jedi Structures.

BLOOD

He never raised His Voice. That was The Worst Thing. 

The Fury of The Time Lord.

And then we discovered why. 

Why This Doctor, who had fought with Gods and Demons, why He'd run away from Us and hidden.

Because We are The Family of Blood.

He was Being Kind.

Love The Policeman

“She’s now a Woman. And what is a Woman? 

A Woman is a Vehicle of Life, and Life has overtaken her. 

She is a Vehicle now of Life. 

A Woman’s what it’s all about - the giving of birth and the giving of nourishment. 

She’s identical with The Earth Goddess in her powers, and she’s got to realize that about herself. 

The Boy does not have a Happening of that kind. 

He has to be turned INTO a Man, and VOLUNTARILY become a Servant of Something Greater Than Himself. 

The Woman becomes The Vehicle of Nature —

The Man becomes 

The Vehicle of The Society, 

The Social Order 

and 

The Social Purpose.”

Jack Webb - "What is a Cop?" 

"There is a Policeman Inside All Our Heads -

He Must Be Destroyed."

FBI Elicitation Techniques by Paul Coker on Scribd

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Hi.

You have a minute? 

DAVID: 

Actually, I was I was just -

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Oh, it'll only take a second.

I feel like this is our spot.

Are you 'Cause I got I was going in the tank to Oh, you were just in there, I thought.

Some modifications to get outside space-time.

Isn't that what you told Kerry? Over my head, the science, but I got to ask did it work? 

DAVID: 

What? 

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

That line you gave about seeing where Farouk was gonna be Or where he was.

DAVID: 

I'm - 

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

No, of course we know where he was.

He was here.

He killed 11 of my men, turned one into a pig, scared the shit out of a bunch of kids.

DAVID: 

I feel like, in order to answer that question, I need to explain how telepathy works.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Did you find him? 

Yes or no? 

DAVID: 

He hides.

I used to think it was just inside Oliver's mind, but then I realized he keeps other minds in there with him.

Lenny.

Maybe others.

And when he senses me looking, he brings one forward and hides inside of it.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

So, uh, what you're saying is, you're useless.

Or maybe you're - 

DAVID: 

Maybe I'm what? 

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Are you familiar with the term "collusion"? 

DAVID: 

You're starting to make me mad.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Oh, are you gonna put more office supplies in my face? 

Burn me alive? 

DAVID: 

That's - You were The Bad Guy.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Yeah, that's funny.

I thought YOU were The Bad Guy.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman,

[ TELEPATHICALLY ] :

I know you're lying.

I think you're helping him, 

but I don't know why.

DAVID

[TELEPATHICALLY] :

And I think Your Job is to suspect everyone, 

and that makes everyone a Suspect.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

[SIGHS.]

Why'd you take us to The Desert? 

DAVID: 

I told you, I saw him there.

Amahl Farouk.

The Shadow King.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Yeah, but I-I thought you didn't know what he looked like.

DAVID: 

Oliver.

He's in Oliver.

That's who I saw.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

That's not what you SAID.

DAVID: 

Just let me do my job.

This'll all be over soon enough.

CLARK, 

The One-Eyed Policeman: 

Okay.

But just remember :

[SINGSONGY] 

We see everything.

The World’s Not Just Gonna Save Itself, Dear.

"We all get crushed and moulded by the tyrannical force of social convention. But, at least in principle, the benefit is worth the cost. It’s also up to you to make sure you don’t sacrifice more to The Group than you should. 

You can start to tell if you’re sacrificing more to The Group than you should because you start to become resentful of other people. 

That’s part of the psychological mechanism that’s informing you of that. So it’s up to you to fight against the overarching pressure for conformity and to retain your individual logos, but that’s sort of Your Problem. 

The Group wants you to behave. 

Now if you could behave and be creatively productive, so much the better, but that’s pretty damn rare. 

The Group generally tends to settle just for behave. 

There’s a tyrannical element of that, but what the hell’s the alternative? 


Our Society is based on consensus, and the consensus is based on a certain Sacrifice of Individuality, even though individuality is absolutely necessary as a revitalizing force for the society. It’s a very tough thing to manage properly.  

Anyways, you have your physiological structure as your first line of ordering in relationship to Chaos. Your body presents you with The World in a certain way. 

And then the second line of defense is something like The Sociological Structures That You Inhabit. 

We could call those the competency hierarchy. Something like that—and Thank God for them. Maybe you’re going to be able to specialize in one or two things in Your Life, but there’s 300 Things You Need to Know. 

If it’s just you, you’ll be doing your genius level mathematics while your bathtub is leaking all over your bathroom floor. 

That’s Not So Good, so you can call a plumber. 

Hooray for that. We tend to cooperate to keep chaos under control. We tend to cooperate to keep order under control. 

That’s the political dialog, right? 

We maintain The Culture to keep Chaos under control, and we balance the culture properly to keep The Culture under control. 

That way we get to live reasonably peacefully, reasonably productively, for a reasonable amount of time, and that’s the best that we can do. 

We should have gratitude when that’s working. 

The default condition of things is that not only do they not work very well, they work worse and worse over time, all by themselves. 

Any time anything is working you should just be amazed by it.

No Arab Loves The Desert

Fr. Mark Goring - 

Escape the porn plague, go to the desert

There Are Our Stories

"So we live in stories. When you understand a little bit about the structure of stories, then a whole array of things about mythology all of a sudden make overwhelming sense. 

It’s so useful. What you see is that many of the things that are standard occurrences in everyone’s life are portrayed universally in mythology. 

It’s very helpful. First of all, it de-isolates you.

That’s actually a relief to the doctor, but also a relief to you, right? You come and say, 'Look, I can’t go out of my house much anymore. I’m afraid on elevators. I have heart palpitations, and I sometimes end up in the emergency room. My interactions in the world are increasingly restricted. I find myself staying at home. I’m afraid I’m going to die of a heart attack.' 

The psychologist says, 'Well, you have agrophobia. It’s like, lots of people have that. Here’s usually how it developed, and here’s the treatment course. We can probably do something about that. Well, you’re not going to die of a heart attack now, probably.' 

That’s a real relief. You’re not crazy in a completely unique way, and you’re crazy in a way that might be treatable. And so it’s such a relief. 

People come in there with a pile of snakes of indeterminate magnitude, and they walk out with one manageable Snake. 

It’s still a Snake, but One Manageable Snake beats a Hydra."

Freddie The Frog was a Professional Burglar. 

He was disloyal to his friends.

He was a Womaniser, 

A Home-Breaker,

A Con-Man, 

A Thief, 

A Liar, 

and 

A Cheat... 

So, no, Rodney — 

You're •nothing• like him.

The End.

Now, I got a better one. 

This is a Story of 

Love and Loss, 

Fathers and Sons, 

and 

The Foresight to retain International Merchandising Rights. 

Let's Begin with Part Four. 

One of the things that’s pretty interesting about modern neuroscientists—especially the top rate ones, and those are usually the ones who are working on emotions, as far as I’ve been able to tell—is that they are often quite enamoured of the psychoanalysts. Jaak Panksepp was a good example of that. They came to understand the psychoanalyst’s insistence on underlying, unconscious, personified motivations as an accurate reflection of how the brain worked. So you can think of yourself as a loose collection of autonomous spirits that’s governed by some overarching identity. That’s a reasonable way of thinking about it. A question that arises from that is, what is the nature of this a priori structure that you use to interpret the world? I think the clearest answer to that is that it’s a story, and that you live inside the story.

That’s very, very interesting to me. I believe—I have a couple of videos that lay this out—that Darwinian presuppositions are, at least, as fundamental as Newtonian presuppositions. I actually think that they’re more fundamental. The fact that we’ve evolved story-like structures through which to interpret the world indicates to me that there’s something deeply true about story-like structures. They’re true, at least, insofar as the fact that we’ve developed them means that here we are, living, and that it’s taken 3.5 billion years to develop them. They’re highly functional. We don’t have a much better definition of truth than highly functional. That’s about as good as it gets, partly because we’re limited creatures and we don’t have omniscient knowledge.

The best we can do with our knowledge, generally speaking, is to note its functionality and improve it when it fails to work properly. I think the scientific method actually does that. The fact that we’ve evolved a story-like structure through which to interpret the world is pretty damn interesting. It says something fundamental about stories. It’s strange in the same way that the fact that we have hemispheric specialization for the known and the unknown—or for order and chaos, respectively—also says something fundamental about the nature of the world—if you assume that we’ve evolved to reflect the structure of the world, broadly speaking. That’s obviously not just the physical structure—the atoms and the molecules—but all of the pattern manifestations of the physical molecules as they build structures of increasing complexity across time. That would include human interactions, political interactions, economic interactions, familial interactions—all of those things that are a very important part of our reality, but perhaps, in some sense, are not as fundamental as the physical attributes that the physicists concentrate on.

So we live in stories. I want to talk to you a little bit about stories and their structure. When you understand a little bit about the structure of stories, then a whole array of things about mythology all of a sudden make overwhelming sense. It’s so useful. What you see is that many of the things that are standard occurrences in everyone’s life are portrayed universally in mythology. It’s very helpful. First of all, it deisolates you. One of the things you learn as a clinical psychologist—contra the anti-psychiatrists, let’s say—is that diagnosis is often a relief to people.


There’s a problem with being diagnosed: you might be labelled, and the label can follow you for the rest of your life. Once you’re labelled as a something, then strange things happen around you that often reinforce that label. Maybe you start acting it out more, or you adopt it as an identity. There’s a flip side of that, which is that the last thing you ever want to hear when you go see a physician or a psychologist is, you know, I’ve never seen a case like yours before. Right. That is not a relief, man. If the message is, I’ve never heard anything like what you’re telling me, the outcome is going to be either not so good for you or you’re not going to get listened to at all. You’re such an anomaly that your existence is annoying to the integrated knowledge structure of the medical profession that you’re attempting to receive advice from. It’s definitely the case because, you know, if you can be put in a box, then the box tells the doctor what to do with you.

SKYWALKER

The genius of an artist, Aristotle says, lies in his texne, the root from which we get our word "technology"; but texne basically means skill or craft, or the ability to make things that never existed before. Negative Entropy, i.e., in-form-ation . . .

The musician and the architect, the poet and the physicist -- all inventors of new realities -- all such Creators may be best considered late evolutionary developments of the type that first appears as the shaman. Please remember that shamans in most cultures are known as "they who walk in the sky," just like our current shaman-hero, Luke Rey Skywalker . . .

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

SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave.

Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave

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 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' the

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.

TIMON comes from his cave, behind

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-corner'd night,

Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come.

TIMON

[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a

god's gold,

That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple

Than where swine feed!

'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,

Settlest admired reverence in a slave:

To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye

Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey!

Fit I meet them.

Coming forward

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 abhorred spirits!--

Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:

What! to you,

Whose star-like 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 travail'd 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.

Both

What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.

TIMON

Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold;

I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're 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: thou'rt, 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.

Both

Beseech your honour

To make it known to us.

TIMON

You'll take it ill.

Both

Most thankfully, my lord.

TIMON

Will you, indeed?

Both

Doubt it not, worthy lord.

TIMON

There's never a one of you but trusts a knave,

That mightily deceives you.

Both

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.

Both

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.

If where thou art two villains shall not be,

Come not near him. 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 Painter

You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence!

To Poet

You are an alchemist; make gold of that.

Out, rascal dogs!

Beats them out, and then retires to his cave

Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators

FLAVIUS

It is in 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.

First Senator

Bring us to his cave:

It is our part and promise to the Athenians

To speak with Timon.

Second 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: the Athenians,

By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:

Speak to them, noble Timon.

TIMON comes from his cave

TIMON

Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and

be hang'd:

For each true word, a blister! and each false

Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue,

Consuming it with speaking!

First Senator

Worthy Timon,--

TIMON

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

First 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.

First 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.

Second 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 fail, restraining aid to Timon;

And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd 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.

First 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,

Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name

Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back

Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,

Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up

His country's peace.

Second Senator

And shakes his threatening sword

Against the walls of Athens.

First 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 be sack fair Athens,

And take our goodly aged men by the beards,

Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,

Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,

In pity of our aged 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 the 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 to-morrow: 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!

First Senator

We speak in vain.

TIMON

But yet I love my country, and am not

One that rejoices in the common wreck,

As common bruit doth put it.

First Senator

That's well spoke.

TIMON

Commend me to my loving countrymen,--

First Senator

These words become your lips as they pass

thorough them.

Second 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.

First 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 beached verge of the salt flood;

Who once a day with his embossed froth

The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,

And let my grave-stone 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.

Retires to his cave

First Senator

His discontents are unremoveably

Coupled to nature.

Second Senator

Our hope in him is dead: let us return,

And strain what other means is left unto us

In our dear peril.

First Senator

It requires swift foot.

Exeunt