Chapter: The woods near the sea-shore. Before TIMON'S cave

Enter TIMON in the woods

  TIMON. 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's oblique;
    There's nothing level in our cursed natures
    But direct villainy. 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 th' accurs'd,
    Make the hoar leprosy ador'd, 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 th 'April day again. Come, damn'd earth,
    Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds
    Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
    Do thy right nature.                        [March afar off]
    Ha! a drum? Th'art quick,
    But yet I'll bury thee. Thou't 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; and 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 cherubin 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 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 th' Athenian minion whom the world
    Voic'd 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-cheek'd 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 griev'd,
    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. War'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-vic'd 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 pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
    And mince it sans remorse. Swear against abjects;
    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 thy 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 AND 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,
    Th' 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 burdens 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 AND TIMANDRA. Well, more gold. What then?
    Believe't that we'll do anything 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 AND 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 spok'st 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 all but TIMON
  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 th' abhorred births below crisp heaven
    Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning 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 ingrateful 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 diseas'd 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 gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade 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'd 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 moist trees,
    That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels
    And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
    Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste
    To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? Call the creatures
    Whose naked natures live in all the spite
    Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
    To the conflicting elements expos'd,
    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'dst courtier be again
    Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
    Outlives incertain 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 should'st 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 plung'd thyself
    In general riot, melted down thy youth
    In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
    The icy precepts of respect, but followed
    The sug'red 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, have 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'd 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 food]
  TIMON. First mend my company: take away thyself.
  APEMANTUS. So I shall mend mine own by th' 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 a nights, Timon?
  TIMON. Under that's above me.
    Where feed'st thou a 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 mock'd thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags

    thou know'st none, but art despis'd 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 th' hadst hated medlars 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 talk'st of, didst thou
ever
    know belov'd?
  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 thee; if thou wert the fox, the
lion
    would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by
the
    ass. If thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee;
and
    still thou liv'dst 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 bear, thou wouldst be kill'd
by
    the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seiz'd 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 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 swoon 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 of the sea may beat
    Thy gravestone daily; make thine epitaph,
    That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
    [Looks at 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, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
    Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
    That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
    That sold'rest close impossibilities,
    And mak'st 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 th' hast 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.
More
    things like men? Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

                       Enter the BANDITTI

  FIRST BANDIT. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
    fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of
    gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this
    melancholy.
  SECOND BANDIT. It is nois'd 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 briars 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' th' 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 villainy, 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 stol'n
    From gen'ral excrement- each thing's a thief.
    The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
    Has uncheck'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 not less for this
    I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er!
    Amen.
  THIRD BANDIT. Has almost charm'd 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 THIEVES

                         Enter FLAVIUS, to TIMON

  FLAVIUS. O you gods!
    Is yond despis'd 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 desp'rate 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 th'art 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,
    Nev'r 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,
    T' 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 plac'd 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'd 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 deniest 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 hat'st curses,
    Stay not; fly whilst thou art blest and free.
    Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.
                                                Exeunt severally

 Somewhere in the middle of the woods, Timon curses mankind. Timon has nothing left, so he searches for food in the woods. He starts digging and strikes gold. Literally: he finds gold in the ground. But don't think that lucky break is going to put an end to all Timon's curses. He thinks back on the destruction gold can bring and decides to keep it buried. He only keeps a small amount for himself to use for food and supplies. Just then, music starts playing in the distance. It's Alcibiades, with two courtesans, Phrynia and Timandra. Timon recognizes Alcibiades, but he doesn't trust him. He's no better than the rest of the Athenians, he thinks. He utters some offensive things at Alcibiades and curses the courtesans to boot. But when Alcibiades recognizes Timon, he pities him. He says he and his crew only have a small amount of cash, but they're happy to share it with Timon. The motley crew is on the way to attack Athens, and they'd love if Timon joined them. Upon hearing this, Timon gives them some gold. Here's a bunch of wealth, Timon says, but it's loaded with a jumble of curses. Timon wants Phrynia and Timandra to keep doing their job in Athens. Create more mischief, he commands. Lure men in and give them diseases. After Alcibiades and his crew depart for Athens, Timon reflects on what just happened. He's pretty disgusted with mankind in general. All people care about is money. In walks Apemantus, the grumbler. He's full of his usual glass-half-empty comments, but he's interested in Timon. Isn't it fascinating, Apemantus notes, that Timon was once the belle of the ball, and now he hates everyone? He thinks about how cynical Timon has become and decides he quite likes the man now. After all, they're really similar, right? Timon is outright offended. He's not like Apemantus, he says. Apemantus has never been loved, so he hates everyone. Timon, on the other hand, has been flattered up and down but then betrayed by everyone he knows. Timon insists that his distaste for mankind is warranted, but Apemantus's is not. But Apemantus doesn't give up so easily. He thinks Timon would become a rich guy again if he had the choice. He keeps telling Timon they are twinsies and even tries to help him prepare a meal. The curses continue. This time, Timon is firing them away: he asks Apemantus if anyone has ever loved him. Just myself, Apemantus replies. Timon just mocks Apemantus more. When Timon asks Apemantus what should be done with the world, Apemantus says: "Give it to the beasts." Timon thinks that's just about the dumbest idea ever; Athens is already full of beasts, he says. He curses Apemantus some more and then throws stones at him to make him leave. On his way off, Apemantus predicts that Timon will be bombarded with people in want of his newfound gold. Then some bandits arrive. They claim to be soldiers in need of supplies, but Timon calls their bluff. He knows they've heard about his pot of gold. Even though he knows they are lying, he gives them some gold anyway. Anything can happen in the woods, it seems. So when Flavius shows up, we're not really sure how Timon will react. Timon tells Flavius he can't remember anyone from Athens. Yeah, right. Flavius pities his master and tells him he was his honest servant. We sense a quip coming, and we're right, because Timon replies that he never had anyone around who was honest. Cue the waterworks. Flavius cries over Timon's state. He begs him to see that his tears are real and even offers his own money to Timon. Well, it works. Timon says Flavius is the only honest man he's ever known. He starts to rethink his whole philosophy that all men are flesh-eating beasts who prey on each other for fun. Okay, nope, Timon's gonna stick with that philosophy, after all. Then Timon gives Flavius a large portion of gold to repay him for his kindness. Here's the catch: Flavius cannot live with mankind; he has to be apart from them. On top of that, he can never, ever, ever give any charity to anyone, ever. Flavius wants to stay and comfort his master, but Timon sends him away and goes back into his cave alone.

