The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1041 page)

collapse into your ruinous opposites;

and may the destruction continue! Natural plagues of men,

Load your powerful and infectious fevers

on Athens, which is ready for them! You cold sciatica,

cripple our senators, so that their limbs limp

as lamely as their manners! May lust and licentiousness

creep into the minds and bones of our youth,

so that they fight against everything virtuous,

and drown themselves in chaos! Itches, blisters,

seed yourself in the bodies of all Athenians, and grow

into general leprosy! May each breath infect the other,

so that their society, just like their friendship, may

be pure poison! I'll carry nothing away from you

but my nakedness, you revolting town!

Take that too, with multiplied curses!

Timon shall go to the woods, where he will find

the nastiest beast is kinder than mankind.

May the gods destroy–hear me, all you good gods–

the Athenians, both inside and outside that wall;

and allow, as Timon grows, for his hate to grow

for the whole race of mankind, high and low!

Amen.

Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants

First Servant

Hear you, master steward, where's our master?

Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

Now then, master steward, where's our master?

Are we finished?  Thrown out?  Is that it?

FLAVIUS

Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?

Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,

I am as poor as you.

Alas, my colleagues, what can I say?

I swear by the just gods,

I am as poor as you.

First Servant

Such a house broke!

So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not

One friend to take his fortune by the arm,

And go along with him!

Such a great household destroyed!

Such a noble master fallen?  All gone!  And not

one friend to share with him

in his misfortunes!

Second Servant

As we do turn our backs

From our companion thrown into his grave,

So his familiars to his buried fortunes

Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,

Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,

A dedicated beggar to the air,

With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,

Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.

As we turn away

from the grave of a friend,

so those who loved him when he was rich

sneak away, leaving him their false promises,

like purses that have been robbed; and his poor self,

a homeless beggar,

with his disease of hated poverty,

walks alone, as if he were hatred itself.

Here are more of our colleagues.

Enter other Servants

FLAVIUS

All broken implements of a ruin'd house.

All the broken fittings of a ruined house.

Third Servant

Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;

That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,

Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark,

And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,

Hearing the surges threat: we must all part

Into this sea of air.

But in our hearts we are still Timon's servants;

I can see that in our faces; we are still colleagues,

all serving with the same sorrow; our ship is holed,

and we, poor sailors, stand on the doomed deck,

hearing the waves crash: we must all leave

and wander the world.

FLAVIUS

Good fellows all,

The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.

Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,

Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,

As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,

'We have seen better days.' Let each take some;

Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:

Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.

Servants embrace, and part several ways

O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!

Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,

Since riches point to misery and contempt?

Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live

But in a dream of friendship?

To have his pomp and all what state compounds

But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?

Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,

Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,

When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!

Who, then, dares to be half so kind again?

For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.

My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,

Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes

Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!

He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat

Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to

Supply his life, or that which can command it.

I'll follow and inquire him out:

I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;

Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still.

Exit

You good men,

I'll share the last of my wealth with you.

Wherever we may meet, for Timon's sake,

let's still be friends; let's shake our heads and say,

as if we were the funeral bell for our master's fortunes,

'We have seen better days.'  Everyone take some;

all of you put out your hands.  Don't say another word:

so we part, poor but rich in sorrow.

Oh, what excessive wretchedness success brings us!

Who wouldn't want to avoid being rich,

since riches lead to misery and contempt?

Who wants to be mocked by success?  Or to live

with just the illusion of friendship?

To have all his glory and position just

a fake, like his deceitful friends?

Poor good lord, brought down by his own heart,

ruined by goodness!  How strange human nature is,

when the worst sin a man does is doing too much good!

Who will ever dare to be half as generous again?

Generosity, which makes the gods, destroys men.

My dearest lord, your blessings were a curse,

your riches only made you poor, your great fortune

has become your greatest burden.  Alas, kind lord!

He's been thrown out in rage from this ungrateful place

of appalling friends, and he hasn't got the necessities

of life, or the means to get them.

I'll follow and find where he is:

I'll always do my best to serve him;

while I still have money, I'll still take care of him.

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

O blessed fertile sun, draw rotting humidity

out of the earth; destroy the land beneath the moon