The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 486
Else, surely, his had equall’d.
Enter FLAMINIUS.
TITUS One of Lord Timon’s men.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT Flaminius? Sir, a word. Pray is my
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lord ready to come forth?
FLAMINIUS No, indeed he is not.
TITUS We attend his lordship; pray signify so much.
FLAMINIUS I need not tell him that; he knows you are
too diligent. Exit.
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Enter Steward in a cloak, muffled.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT
Ha, is not that his steward muffled so?
He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
TITUS Do you hear, sir?
VARRO’S 2 SERVANT By your leave, sir –
STEWARD What do ye ask of me, my friend?
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TITUS We wait for certain money here, sir.
STEWARD Ay,
If money were as certain as your waiting,
’Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr’d you not your sums and bills
When your false masters eat of my lord’s meat?
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Then they could smile, and fawn upon his debts,
And take down th’int’rest into their glutt’nous
maws.
You do yourselves but wrong, to stir me up;
Let me pass quietly.
Believe’t, my lord and I have made an end;
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I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT Ay, but this answer will not serve.
STEWARD If ’twill not serve, ’tis not so base as you,
For you serve knaves. Exit.
VARRO’S 1 SERVANT How? What does his cashier’d
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worship mutter?
VARRO’S 2 SERVANT No matter what; he’s poor, and
that’s revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he
that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail
against great buildings.
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Enter SERVILIUS.
TITUS O, here’s Servilius; now we shall know some
answer.
SERVILIUS If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair
some other hour, I should derive much from’t; for,
take’t of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to
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discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him,
he’s much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT
Many do keep their chambers are not sick;
And if it be so far beyond his health,
Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
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And make a clear way to the gods.
SERVILIUS Good gods!
TITUS We cannot take this for answer, sir.
FLAMINIUS [within] Servilius, help! My lord, my lord!
Enter TIMON, in a rage.
TIMON
What, are my doors oppos’d against my passage?
Have I been ever free, and must my house
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Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
The place which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
LUCIUS’ SERVANT Put in now, Titus.
TITUS My lord, here is my bill.
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LUCIUS’ SERVANT Here’s mine.
HORTENSIUS And mine, my lord.
1, 2 VARRO’S SERVANTS And ours, my lord.
PHILOTUS All our bills.
TIMON Knock me down with ’em: cleave me to the
girdle.
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LUCIUS’ SERVANT Alas, my lord –
TIMON Cut my heart in sums.
TITUS Mine, fifty talents.
TIMON Tell out my blood.
LUCIUS’ SERVANT Five thousand crowns, my lord.
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TIMON
Five thousand drops pays that. What yours? And yours?
VARRO’S 1 SERVANT My lord –
VARRO’S 2 SERVANT My lord –
TIMON Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you!
Exit.
HORTENSIUS Faith, I perceive our masters may throw
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their caps at their money; these debts may well be
call’d desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em.
Exeunt.
Re-enter TIMON and Steward.
TIMON
They have e’en put my breath from me, the slaves.
Creditors? Devils!
STEWARD My dear lord –
TIMON What if it should be so?
STEWARD My lord –
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TIMON I’ll have it so. My steward?
STEWARD Here, my lord.
TIMON So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again,
Lucius, Lucullus and Sempronius: all.
I’ll once more feast the rascals.
STEWARD O my lord,
You only speak from your distracted soul;
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There’s not so much left to furnish out
A moderate table.
TIMON Be it not in thy care.
Go, I charge thee, invite them all, let in the tide
Of knaves once more; my cook and I’ll provide.
Exeunt.
3.5 Enter three Senators at one door, ALCIBIADES meeting them with attendants.
1 SENATOR
My lord, you have my voice to’t; the fault’s
Bloody; ’tis necessary he should die;
Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
2 SENATOR Most true; the law shall bruise ’em.
ALCIBIADES
Honour, health and compassion to the Senate!
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1 SENATOR Now, captain?
ALCIBIADES I am an humble suitor to your virtues;
For pity is the virtue of the law,
And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
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Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath stepp’d into the law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed, do plunge into’t.
He is a man, setting his fate aside,
Of comely virtues;
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Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice
(An honour in him which buys out his fault)
But with a noble fury and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch’d to death,
He did oppose his foe;
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And with such sober and unnoted passion
He did behove his anger, ere ’twas spent,
As if he had but prov’d an argument.
1 SENATOR You undergo too strict a paradox,
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.
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Your words have took such pains as if they labour’d
To bring manslaughter into form, and set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which indeed
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When sects and factions were newly born.
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He’s truly valiant that can wisely suffer
The worst that man can breathe,
And make his wrongs his outsides,
To wear them like his raiment, carelessly,
And ne’er prefer his injuries to his heart,
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To bring it into danger.
If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill,
What folly ’tis to hazard life for ill!
ALCIBIADES My lord –
1 SENATOR You cannot make gross sins look clear;
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To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
ALCIBIADES My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
If I speak like a captain.
Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threats
? Sleep upon’t,
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And let the foes quietly cut their throats
Without repugnancy? If there be
Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? Why then, women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it,
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And the ass more captain than the lion,
The fellow loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good.
Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
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To kill, I grant, is sin’s extremest gust,
But in defence, by mercy, ’tis most just.
To be in anger is impiety;
But who is man that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.
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2 SENATOR You breathe in vain.
ALCIBIADES In vain? His service done
At Lacedaemon and Byzantium
Were a sufficient briber for his life.
1 SENATOR What’s that?
ALCIBIADES Why I say, my lords, h’as done fair service,
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And slain in fight many of your enemies.
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
2 SENATOR He has made too much plenty with ’em;
He’s a sworn rioter; he has a sin
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That often drowns him and takes his valour prisoner.
If there were no foes, that were enough
To overcome him. In that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages
And cherish factions; ’tis inferr’d to us,
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His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
1 SENATOR He dies.
ALCIBIADES Hard fate! He might have died in war.
My lords, if not for any parts in him –
Though his right arm might purchase his own time,
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And be in debt to none – yet, more to move you,
Take my deserts to his, and join ’em both;
And for I know your reverend ages love
Security, I’ll pawn my victories, all
My honour to you, upon his good returns.
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If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive ’t in valiant gore,
For law is strict, and war is nothing more.
1 SENATOR
We are for law; he dies: urge it no more,
On height of our displeasure. Friend or brother,
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He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
ALCIBIADES Must it be so? It must not be.
My lords, I do beseech you know me.
2 SENATOR How?
ALCIBIADES Call me to your remembrances.
3 SENATOR What!
ALCIBIADES I cannot think but your age has forgot me;
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It could not else be I should prove so base,
To sue and be denied such common grace.
My wounds ache at you.
1 SENATOR Do you dare our anger?
’Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:
We banish thee for ever.
ALCIBIADES Banish me?
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Banish your dotage, banish usury,
That makes the Senate ugly!
1 SENATOR
If after two days’ shine Athens contain thee,
Attend our weightier judgment.
And, not to swell our spirit,
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He shall be executed presently. Exeunt Senators.
ALCIBIADES
Now the gods keep you old enough, that you may
live
Only in bone, that none may look on you!
I’m worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
While they have told their money, and let out
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Their coin upon large interest; I myself
Rich only in large hurts. All those, for this?
Is this the balsam that the usuring Senate
Pours into captains’ wounds? Banishment!
It comes not ill. I hate not to be banish’d;
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It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
That I may strike at Athens. I’ll cheer up
My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
’Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;
Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.