What viler thing upon the earth than friends Flav. An honest poor servant of yours. Then I know thee not: I ne'er had honest man Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my lord, woman. of Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; Suspect still comes where an estate is least. SCENE I.-Before TIMON's Cave. Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON behind, unseen. Pain. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides. Poet. What's to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold? Pain. Certain: Alcibiades reports it; and he enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'Tis said, he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. Pain. Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore, 'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in us; and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travel for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having. Poet. What have you now to present unto him? Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece. Poet. I must serve him so too; tell him of an intent that's coming toward him. Pain. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promişe is most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. Tim. Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself. Poet. I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him: It must be a personating of himself: a satire against the softness of prosperity; with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency, Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. Poet. Nay, let's seek him: Then do we sin against our own estate, Pain. True; [night, Tim. Look you, I love you weil; I'll give you gold, When the day serves, before black-corner'd [form; 'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the Settlest admired reverence in a slave: To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey! 'Fit I do meet them. [Advancing. Our late noble master. [men? Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest Poet. Sir, Poet. Hail, worthy Timon! Having often of your open bounty tasted, Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence Tim. Let it go naked, men may see 't the better: service. Ay, you are honest men. Pain. We are hither come to offer you our [quite you? Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I reCan you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. Both. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. [I have gold; Tim. You are honest men; You have heard that I am sure you have: speak truth: you are honest [fore Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but thereCame not my friend, nor I. [terfeit men. Tim. Good honest men :-Thou draw'st a counBest in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain. So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so, sir, as I say :-And, for thy fiction, [To the Poet. Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and Rid me these villains from your companies: Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught, Confound them by some course, and come to me, I'll give you gold enough. Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in company : Each man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. If, where thou art, two villains shall not be, [To the Painter. Come not near him.-If thou would'st not reside [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon.Hence! pack! there's gold; ye came for gold, ye slaves: You have done work for me, there's payment: You are an alchymist; make gold of that:- [Exit, beating and driving them out. Enter FLAVIUS, and two Senators. Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with For he is set so only to himself, [Timon; That nothing but himself, which looks like man, Is friendly with him. 1 Sen. 2 Sen. Bring us to his cave: It is our part, and promise to the Athenians, To speak with Timon. At all times alike Men are not still the same: 'Twas time and griefs [hand, That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer Offering the fortunes of his former days, [him, The former man may make him: Bring us to And chance it as it may. Here is his cave.Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon. Flav. Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth, | Tim. name 2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Therefore, Timon,Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; Thus, [Athens, If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war; Then, let him know,-and tell him, Timon speaks it, In pity of our aged, and our youth, I cannot choose but tell him, that-I care not, And let him take 't at worst; for their knives care not, While you have throats to answer: for myself, Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph; It will be seen to-morrow: My long sickness Of health, and living, now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough! 1 Sen. We speak in vain. Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck, As common bruit? doth put it. 1 Sen. That's well spoke. [men,Tim. Commend me to my loving country1 Sen. These words become your lips as they pass through them. [úmphers 2 Sen. And enter in our ears like great triIn their applauding gates. Tim. Commend me to them; And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, Tim. Come not to me again: but say to Athens, 1 Sen. His discontents are unremovably Coupled to nature. 2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril. 1 Sen. It requires swift foot. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his As full as thy report? [files Mess. 2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, Enter Senators from TIMON. 1 Sen. Here come our brothers. [pect.— 3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him exThe enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust: In, and prepare; Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. [Exeunt SCENE IV.-The Woods. TIMON's Cave, and a Tomb-stone seen. Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON. Sold. By all description this should be the place. [this? Our captain hath in every figure skill; SCENE V.-Before the walls of Athens. Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES, and Forces. Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach. [A parley sounded. Enter Senators on the walls. Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such As slept within the shadow of your power, Have wander❜d with our travers'd arms, and Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush,+ Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease; 1 Sen. 2 Sen. So did we woo 1 Sen. Nor are they living, 2 Sen. 1 Sen. Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall 2 Sen. Set but thy foot | Against our rampir'd gates, and they shall ope; Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour else, 'Tis most nobly spoken. Alcib. Descend, and keep your words. Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead; Alcib. [Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft : [caitiff's left! Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked Here lie I Timon; who, alive, all living men did [not here thy gait. hate: Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay These well express in thee thy latter spirits; From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.**- [Exeunt. INTRODUCTION TO TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. SHAKESPEARE, in the two concluding lines of the prologue to this play, appears to have anticipated that it would not be exceedingly popular: to say the truth, it is the most desultory and rambling of his acknowledged works; extending over too great a period of time for the poet fairly to grasp, consisting of too many incidents for effective combination, and of too many characters to permit of their complete development. In this play we miss that constructive art which is generally to be traced in the works of Shakespeare; it is less a drama than a narrative; the story is unconnected and incomplete, and the end is no conclusion. Hector, the hero and favourite of the poet-the brave, yet gentle and generous Hector-is shamefully murdered, in violation both of the laws of arms and humanity; and the large-limbed savage who hacks him to death by deputy, escapes unhurt and in triumph. Troilus talks largely of revenge, but accomplishes none; Cressida is false and unpunished, and, we are to suppose, lives to be the happy mistress of Diomede, until her voluptuous and fickle nature prompts her to abandon him as readily as she has previously left Troilus. The destruction of Troy would have been a theme worthy of the pen of Shakespeare, had he confined bis overflowing and sometimes erratic genius to his subject; he had admirable materials in his hand, had he attempted less. The play abounds with characters, but they are introduced and then abandoned: before we are fairly acquainted with them, they vanish. Cressida is little more than a sketch; and Cassandra, the mad prophetess, something less than one. The best developed character is Pandarus, and he is altogether contemptible. Thersites is probably the original of Apemantus; there is, at least, a resemblance between them; but the latter is the most finished character. Shakespeare apparently intended to create a sympathy and admiration for Troilus, for he makes "that same dog-fox, Ulysses," speak eloquently in his favour, comparing him with Hector, and declaring that he was "Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word; Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provoked, nor, being provoked, soon calmed: His heart and hand both open and both free.", Still, a mere lover is generally an insipid creation, and Troilus is scarcely an exception to the rule; he wants purpose, decision, and moral courage. Vague, however, as the play is, it is full of fine poetry and profound observations: if we are for a moment angry with Shakespeare for his wanderings or his inconsistency, he soon wins us back to him with bribes of thought and beauty. The play also has many fine scenes. The dialogue between Achilles and Hector, after the tournament, is in Shakespeare's happiest style. The bulky Achilles scanning the Trojan prince with his eyes, and soliciting the gods to ell him in what part of his body he should de PRIAM, King of Troy. HECTOR, Schlegel ingeniously accounts for the manner in which Shakespeare has treated this subject by saying:"The whole is one continued irony of that crown of all heroic tales, the tale of Troy. The contemptible nature of the Trojan war, the laziness and discord with which it was carried on, so that the siege was made to last ten years, are only placed in clearer light by the noble descriptions, the sage and ingenious maxims with which the work overflows, and the high ideas which the heroes entertain of themselves and each other." Shakespeare is supposed to have produced this drama in 1601 or 1602: he borrowed the story chiefly from Chaucer's poem of the same name; though he was also indebted to Lydgate's Historie of the Destruction of Troy, and the first seven books of Chapman's translation of Homer. Troilus and Cressida. Persons Represented. AJAX, IN Troy, there lies the scene. From isles or The princes orgulous, their high blood chaf'd, The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Their warlike fraughtage:+ Now on Dardan plains *Proud, disdainful. + Freight. Avaunt, what went before. |