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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!
No concern, no stop! So careless with money, That he won’t know how to keep it, Nor stop his endless waste: doesn’t care What happens to his wealth, nor think about What’s coming next: never should I have been so foolish, To be so generous. What can be done? He won’t listen until he feels it: I have to be blunt with him when he gets back from hunting. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh!
Good even, Varro: what, You come for money? Varro’s Servant Is’t not your business too?
Good evening, Varro: what, You’re here for money? Varro’s Servant Is that not your job too?
It is: and yours too, Isidore? Isidore’s Servant It is so.
It is: and yours too, Isidore? Isidore’s Servant Yes, it is.
Would we were all discharged! Varro’s Servant I fear it.
I wish we were all done with this! Varro’s Servant I’m afraid so.
Here comes the lord.
Here comes the lord.
So soon as dinner’s done, we’ll forth again, My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will?
As soon as dinner’s over, we’ll head out again, My Alcibiades. With me? What do you want?
My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
My lord, here’s a list of certain payments due.
Dues! Whence are you?
Payments! From where are you?
Of Athens here, my lord.
From Athens, my lord.
Go to my steward.
Go to my steward.
Please it your lordship, he hath put me off To the succession of new days this month: My master is awaked by great occasion To call upon his own, and humbly prays you That with your other noble parts you’ll suit In giving him his right.
Please, your lordship, he has put me off Until the coming days this month: My master has been woken by urgent matters To ask for what’s his, and humbly begs you That with your other noble duties you’ll add Giving him his due.
Mine honest friend, I prithee, but repair to me next morning.
My honest friend, I ask you, please come back to me tomorrow morning.
Nay, good my lord,--
No, good my lord,--
Contain thyself, good friend. Varro’s Servant One Varro’s servant, my good lord,-- Isidore’s Servant From Isidore; He humbly prays your speedy payment.
Calm yourself, good friend. Varro’s Servant One of Varro’s servants, my good lord,-- Isidore’s Servant From Isidore; He humbly asks for your quick payment.
If you did know, my lord, my master’s wants-- Varro’s Servant ’Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. Isidore’s Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; And I am sent expressly to your lordship.
If you only knew, my lord, my master’s needs-- Varro’s Servant It was due for non-payment, my lord, six weeks ago. Isidore’s Servant Your steward is putting me off, my lord; And I’ve been sent directly to you.
Give me breath. I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; I’ll wait upon you instantly.
Give me a moment. I beg you, good lords, continue; I’ll be with you shortly.
Come hither: pray you, How goes the world, that I am thus encounter’d With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, And the detention of long-since-due debts, Against my honour?
Come here: please, What’s going on in the world, that I’m faced with Loud demands for overdue bonds, And the holding back of debts that should’ve been paid long ago, All against my honor?
Please you, gentlemen, The time is unagreeable to this business: Your importunacy cease till after dinner, That I may make his lordship understand Wherefore you are not paid.
Gentlemen, please, The timing’s not right for this matter: Stop pushing until after dinner, So I can explain to his lordship Why you haven’t been paid.
Do so, my friends. See them well entertain’d.
Do that, my friends. Make sure they’re well taken care of.
Pray, draw near.
Please, come closer.
Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: let’s ha’ some sport with ’em. Varro’s Servant Hang him, he’ll abuse us. Isidore’s Servant A plague upon him, dog! Varro’s Servant How dost, fool?
Wait, wait, here comes the fool with Apemantus: Let’s have some fun with them. Varro’s Servant: Damn him, he’ll insult us. Isidore’s Servant: A curse on him, the dog! Varro’s Servant: How are you, fool?
Dost dialogue with thy shadow? Varro’s Servant I speak not to thee.
Are you talking to your own shadow? Varro’s Servant: I’m not talking to you.
No,’tis to thyself.
No, I’m talking to yourself.
Come away. Isidore’s Servant There’s the fool hangs on your back already.
Come on. Isidore’s Servant: The fool’s already hanging on your back.
No, thou stand’st single, thou’rt not on him yet.
No, you’re standing alone, you’re not on him yet.
Where’s the fool now?
Where’s the fool now?
He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and usurers’ men! bawds between gold and want!
He asked the last question. Poor fools, and moneylender’s men! Prostitutes caught between wealth and need!
What are we, Apemantus?
What are we, Apemantus?
Asses.
Donkeys.
Why?
Why?
That you ask me what you are, and do not know yourselves. Speak to ’em, fool.
Because you’re asking me what you are, but don’t even know yourselves. Talk to them, fool.
How do you, gentlemen?
How are you, gentlemen?
Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress?
Thank you, good fool: how is your mistress?
She’s e’en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth!
She’s just getting water ready to scald the kind of chickens you all are. I wish we could see you in Corinth!
Good! gramercy.
Good! Thank you.
Look you, here comes my mistress’ page.
Look, here comes my mistress’ page.
[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
[To the Fool] Hey, what’s up, captain! What are you doing with these people? How are you, Apemantus?
Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably.
I wish I had a stick in my mouth, so I could answer you properly.
Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of these letters: I know not which is which.
Please, Apemantus, read the address on these letters: I don’t know which is which.
Canst not read?
Can’t you read?
No.
No.
There will little learning die then, that day thou art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou’t die a bawd.
There won’t be much knowledge lost when you’re hanged. This is for Lord Timon; this is for Alcibiades. Go on; you were born a bastard, and you’ll die a pimp.
Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a dog’s death. Answer not; I am gone.
You were born a dog, and you’ll die a dog’s death. Don’t reply; I’m leaving.
E’en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with you to Lord Timon’s.
That’s how you outrun grace. Fool, I’ll go with you to Lord Timon’s.
Will you leave me there?
Are you going to leave me there?
If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?
If Timon’s staying at home. You three work for three moneylenders?
Ay; would they served us!
Yes; if only they worked for us!
So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.
I’d do the same—just as good a job as the hangman does for a thief.
Are you three usurers’ men?
Are you three moneylenders’ men?
Ay, fool.
Yes, fool.
I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and go away merry; but they enter my mistress’ house merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? Varro’s Servant I could render one.
I think every moneylender has a fool for a servant: my mistress is one, and I’m her fool. When people come to borrow from your masters, they act all sad, and leave happy; but they come to my mistress’ house happy, and leave sad: want to know why? I could give you an explanation, Varro’s Servant.
Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be no less esteemed. Varro’s Servant What is a whoremaster, fool?
Go ahead, then, so we can call you a pimp and a scoundrel; but even so, you’ll still be respected. Varro’s Servant: What’s a pimp, fool?
A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. ’Tis a spirit: sometime’t appears like a lord; sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, with two stones moe than’s artificial one: he is very often like a knight; and, generally, in all shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore to thirteen, this spirit walks in. Varro’s Servant Thou art not altogether a fool.
A fool in fancy clothes, and someone like you. It’s a spirit: sometimes it looks like a lord; sometimes like a lawyer; sometimes like a philosopher, with two stones more than his fake one: it’s often like a knight; and generally, in all the shapes that people wear from eighty years old to thirteen, this spirit takes on. Varro’s Servant: You’re not completely a fool.
Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lackest.
And you’re not completely wise: for every bit of foolishness I have, you’re missing that much wit.
That answer might have become Apemantus.
That’s an answer Apemantus would give.
Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.
Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.
Come with me, fool, come.
Come with me, fool, come.
I do not always follow lover, elder brother and woman; sometime the philosopher.
I don’t always follow lovers, older brothers, and women; sometimes I follow the philosopher.
Pray you, walk near: I’ll speak with you anon.
Please, walk closer: I’ll talk to you in a moment.
You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time Had you not fully laid my state before me, That I might so have rated my expense, As I had leave of means?
You amaze me: why didn’t you tell me before About my situation, so that I could have managed my money According to what I had available?
You would not hear me, At many leisures I proposed.
You wouldn’t listen, Even when I tried to bring it up at many different times.
Go to: Perchance some single vantages you took. When my indispos ition put you back: And that unaptness made your minister, Thus to excuse yourself.
Enough. Maybe you took advantage of a few opportunities. When I was unwell, you held back: And that made you act as if you were my servant, Just to cover yourself.
O my good lord, At many times I brought in my accounts, Laid them before you; you would throw them off, And say, you found them in mine honesty. When, for some trifling present, you have bid me Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; Yea, ’gainst the authority of manners, pray’d you To hold your hand more close: I did endure Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have Prompted you in the ebb of your estate And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, Though you hear now, too late--yet now’s a time-- The greatest of your having lacks a half To pay your present debts.
Oh my good lord, I’ve brought you my accounts many times, And laid them before you; but you’d just brush them off, Saying you trusted my honesty. When, for some small gift, you’ve told me To return so much, I’ve shaken my head and cried; Yes, even against common sense, I’ve begged you To keep your money closer: I’ve had to put up With many criticisms, especially when I’ve tried to help You during the low points of your wealth And when your debts kept growing. My dear lord, Even though you’re hearing this now, too late -- but it’s not too late -- The greatest part of your wealth is missing half To pay your current debts.
Let all my land be sold.
Sell all my land.
’Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; And what remains will hardly stop the mouth Of present dues: the future comes apace: What shall defend the interim? and at length How goes our reckoning?
It’s all already pledged, some lost and gone; And what’s left won’t even cover the immediate bills: The future is coming fast: What will cover the gap in the meantime? And eventually How will we balance the books?
To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
My land went as far as Lacedaemon.
O my good lord, the world is but a word: Were it all yours to give it in a breath, How quickly were it gone!
Oh my good lord, the world is just a word: If it were all yours, you could give it all away in an instant, And it would be gone just as quickly!
You tell me true.
You’re right.
If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, Call me before the exactest auditors And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, When all our offices have been oppress’d With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine, when every room Hath blazed with lights and bray’d with minstrelsy, I have retired me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow.
If you think I’ve been careless or dishonest, Call me before the most thorough auditors And put me to the test. So help me the gods, When all our houses were overwhelmed With reckless spenders, when our cellars were full Of spilled wine, when every room Was full of lights and music, I’ve withdrawn to a quiet place, And let my mind wander.
Prithee, no more.
Please, no more.
Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants This night englutted! Who is not Timon’s? What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is Lord Timon’s? Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, These flies are couch’d.
Heaven, have I really said this about the generosity of this lord? How many reckless bits of food have slaves and poor people Gorged themselves on tonight! Who is not Timon’s? What heart, mind, sword, strength, or means is not Lord Timon’s? Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the money that buys this praise runs out, The breath that creates this praise will be gone: Feast won, fast lost; like a winter storm, These people are resting now.
Come, sermon me no further: No villanous bounty yet hath pass’d my heart; Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; If I would broach the vessels of my love, And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, Men and men’s fortunes could I frankly use As I can bid thee speak.
Come on, stop preaching to me: No unworthy generosity has passed through my heart; I have given unthinkingly, but not dishonorably. Why are you crying? Can you not understand, That I will not lack friends? Calm your heart; If I wanted to tap into my love for others, And test the strength of friendships by borrowing, I could use men and their fortunes openly Just like I can ask you to speak.
Assurance bless your thoughts!
I hope your thoughts are filled with assurance!
And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown’d, That I account them blessings; for by these Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!
And, in a way, these hardships of mine are a blessing, Because through them I will test my friends: you’ll see how You misunderstand my situation; I am rich in friends. In there! Flaminius! Servilius!
My lord? my lord?
My lord? My lord?
I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have found time to use ’em toward a supply of money: let the request be fifty talents.
I will send you each on separate errands; you to Lord Lucius; You to Lord Lucullus: I hunted with him today; You to Sempronius: tell them I am proud to say, my needs Have found the time to ask them for a loan of money: let The request be fifty talents.
As you have said, my lord.
As you have said, my lord.
[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum!
[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Hm!
Go you, sir, to the senators-- Of whom, even to the state’s best health, I have Deserved this hearing--bid ’em send o’ the instant A thousand talents to me.
Go, you, sir, to the senators-- Of whom, even for the state’s best interest, I have Earned this audience--tell them to send me A thousand talents immediately.
I have been bold-- For that I knew it the most general way-- To them to use your signet and your name; But they do shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return.
I have been bold-- Because I knew it was the most common way-- To ask them to use your seal and your name; But they shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return.
Is’t true? can’t be?
Is it true? Could it be?
They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- But yet they could have wish’d--they know not-- Something hath been amiss--a noble nature May catch a wrench--would all were well--’tis pity;-- And so, intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods They froze me into silence.
They answer, in a united and collective voice, That now they are at their lowest, lack money, cannot Do what they want; they regret it--you are honorable,-- But they wish they could--they don’t know-- Something has gone wrong--a noble character Can sometimes stumble--I wish everything were well--it’s a shame-- And so, while dealing with other serious matters, After their ungracious looks and harsh words, With half-hearted gestures and cold, slow nods, They froze me into silence.
You gods, reward them! Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: Their blood is caked, ’tis cold, it seldom flows; ’Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; And nature, as it grows again toward earth, Is fashion’d for the journey, dull and heavy.
You gods, reward them! Please, man, cheer up. These old men Have ingratitude in their blood, it’s passed down through generations: Their blood is thick, it’s cold, it rarely flows; They’re not kind because they lack natural warmth; And nature, as it returns to the earth, Is shaped for the journey, slow and heavy.
Go to Ventidius.
Go to Ventidius.
Prithee, be not sad, Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. No blame belongs to thee.
Please, don’t be sad, You are true and honest; I mean that sincerely. You are not to blame.
Ventidius lately Buried his father; by whose death he’s stepp’d Into a great estate: when he was poor, Imprison’d and in scarcity of friends, I clear’d him with five talents: greet him from me; Bid him suppose some good necessity Touches his friend, which craves to be remember’d With those five talents.
Ventidius recently Buried his father; and because of his father’s death, he inherited A large fortune: when he was poor, Imprisoned and lacking friends, I helped him out with five talents: say hello to him for me; Tell him to think of some urgent need That concerns his friend, and that he should remember The five talents I gave him.
That had, give’t these fellows To whom ’tis instant due. Ne’er speak, or think, That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.
That had, give it to these guys To whom it’s immediately owed. Never say, or believe, That Timon’s fortunes can fall among his friends.
I would I could not think it: that thought is bounty’s foe; Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
I wish I didn’t think that: that thought is The enemy of generosity; When someone is free-handed, they assume everyone else is too.