Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
work is among the dead, and all your estates
lie on the battlefield.
ALCIBIADES
Ay, defiled land, my lord.
Yes, defiled land, my lord.
First Lord
We are so virtuously bound--
We are so wonderfully obliged–
TIMON
And so
Am I to you.
And so am I to you.
Second Lord
So infinitely endear'd--
So hugely indebted–
TIMON
All to you. Lights, more lights!
That's all on my side. Lights, more lights!
First Lord
The best of happiness,
Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!
Made the greatest happiness,
honour and fortune, remain with you, Lord Timon!
TIMON
Ready for his friends.
So I can serve my friends.
Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON
APEMANTUS
What a coil's here!
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.
What a farce this is!
All this bowing and scraping!
I doubt their bows are worth the amount
you paid for them. Friendship is full of scum:
I think false hearts should never have good legs,
it makes honest fools give money to anyone who bows to them.
TIMON
Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be
good to thee.
Now, Apemantus, if you weren't so sullen, I would be
generous to you.
APEMANTUS
No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,
there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,
Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in
paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and
vain-glories?
No, I'll take nothing: if I should be bribed too,
there would be nobody left to criticise you, and then
you would be even worse. You've been giving for so long,
Timon, I fear all you'll have to give will be IOUs
shortly: what necessity is there for these feasts,
parties and vanities?
TIMON
Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am
sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come
with better music.
Exit
No, if you're going to start criticising friendship,
I swear I won't listen to you. Farewell; come back
with something better to say.
APEMANTUS
So:
Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
Exit
So. You won't listen to me now; you won't get a chance later:
I'll keep what could keep you happy from you.
What a state of affairs when men are
deaf to advice, but not to flattery!
Enter Senator, with papers in his hand
Senator
And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
And able horses. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!
And recently, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
he owes nine thousand; there's my previous amount
in addition, which makes it twenty-five thousand. Still
throwing it about? He can't keep this up.
If I want gold, I'd just have to steal a beggar's dog
and give it to Timon–why, the dog would crap money;
if I wanted to sell my horse and buy twenty
better ones–why, I would give my horse to Timon;
I wouldn't ask him for anything, just give it to him and straightaway
he would give me excellent horses. There's no guard at his gate,
just someone who smiles and invites everyone who passes
to come in. It can't last; there's no way of looking at it
that makes it sound. Caphis, come here!
Caphis, hello!
Enter CAPHIS
CAPHIS
Here, sir; what is your pleasure?
I'm here, sir; what can I do for you?
Senator
Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon;
Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
With slight denial, nor then silenced when--
'Commend me to your master'--and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,
But must not break my back to heal his finger;
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
Put on your cloak, and hurry to Lord Timon;
tell him I want my money; don't be put off
by little excuses, or be silenced when he says
' give your master my compliments' and
doffs his hat to you, like this–but tell him
that I am hard pressed; I must pay my debts
out of my own money; the time he should have paid has passed:
and my reliance on his broken promises
has damaged my credit. I love and honour him,
but I can't break my back to heal his finger.
I need my money at once, and I can't
get any relief from polite words,
I need hard cash at once. Off you go;
put on a very stern face,
one that won't take no for an answer: for I fear,
when all the property has been claimed by its rightful owners,
Lord Timon will be left like a naked gull,
where now he's a Phoenix. Off you go.
CAPHIS
I go, sir.
I'm going, sir.
Senator
Ay go, sir!--Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in compt.
Yes, go, sir! Take the papers with you,
and have the dates of them to hand.
CAPHIS
I will, sir.
I will, sir.
Senator
Go.
Go.
Exeunt
Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand
FLAVIUS
No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account
How things go from him, nor resumes no care
Of what is to continue: never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!
He doesn't care, and won't stop! He's so unaware of money
that he doesn't know how to carry on
nor how to stop: he doesn't pay attention
to his outgoings and gives no thought to
how he'll carry on: nobody was ever
so foolish, to be so kind.
What's to be done? He won't listen until he feels it:
I must speak to him plainly, now, as he returns from hunting.
Damn it all!
Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro
CAPHIS
Good even, Varro: what,
You come for money?
Good afternoon, Varro: what's this,
you've come for money?