酷兔英语

章节正文

My dearest lord- blest to be most accurst,

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 enquire him out.

I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. Exit

SCENE III.
The woods near the sea-shore. Before TIMON'S cave

Enter TIMON in the woods
TIMON. O blessedbreeding 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.



文章标签:名著  

章节正文