
16 Dec TIMON THE MISANTHROPE (LUCIAN) | Part D’
TIMON
He brought me countless troubles long ago — put me in the power of flatterers, set designing persons on me, stirred up ill-feeling, corrupted me with indulgence, exposed me to envy, and wound up with treacherously deserting me at a moment’s notice.
Then the excellent Poverty gave me a drilling in manly labour, conversed with me in all frankness and sincerity, rewarded my exertions with a sufficiency, and taught me to despise superfluities; all hopes of a livelihood were to depend on myself, and I was to know my true wealth, unassailable by parasites’ flattery or informers’ threats, hasty legislatures or decree-mongering legislators, and which even the tyrant’s machinations cannot touch.
So, toil-hardened, working with a will at this bit of ground, my eyes rid of city offences, I get bread enough and to spare out of my spade.
Go your ways, then, Hermes, and take Plutus back to Zeus.
HERMES
Don’t make a passionate child of yourself, but admit Plutus. Zeus’s gifts are too good to be thrown away.
PLUTUS
Will you condescend to argue with me, Timon? or does my voice provoke you?
TIMON
Oh, talk away; but be brief; no rascally lawyer’s ‘opening the case.’ I can put up with a few words from you, for Hermes’ sake.
PLUTUS
A speech of some length might seem to be needed, considering the number of your charges; however, just examine your imputations of injustice. It was I that gave you those great objects of desire — consideration, precedence, honours, and every delight; all eyes and tongues and attentions were yours — my gifts; and if flatterers abused you, I am not responsible for that. It is I who should rather complain; you prostituted me vilely to scoundrels, whose laudations and cajolery of you were only samples of their designs upon me.
As to your saying that I wound up by betraying you, you have things topsy-turvy again; I may complain; you took every method to estrange me, and finally kicked me out neck and crop. That is why your revered Dame Poverty has supplied you with a smock-frock to replace your soft raiment.
Why, I begged and prayed Zeus (and Hermes heard me) that I might be excused from revisiting a person who had been so unfriendly to me as you.
HERMES
But you see how he is changed, Plutus; you need not be afraid to live with him now.
TIMON
I must obey, and be a rich man again, Hermes; what can one do, when Gods insist? But reflect what troubles you are bringing on my luckless head; I have had a blissful life of late, and now for no fault of my own I am to have my hands full of gold and care again.
HERMES
Hard, intolerable fate! yet endure for my sake, if only that the flatterers may burst themselves with envy.
And now for heaven, via Etna.
PLUTUS
He is off, I suppose, from the beating of his wings. Now, you stay where you are, while I go and fetch Thesaurus to you; or rather, dig hard.
Here, Gold! Thesaurus I say! answer Timon’s summons and let him unearth you. Now, Timon, with a will; a deep stroke or two. I will leave you together.
TIMON
Come, spade, show your mettle; stick to it; invite Thesaurus to step up from his retreat….
O God of Wonders! O mystic priests! O lucky Hermes! whence this flood of gold?
Sure, ’tis all a dream; methinks ’twill be ashes when I wake. And yet — coined gold, ruddy and heavy, a feast of delight! O gold, the fairest gift to mortal eyes! be it night, or be it day, Thou dost outshine all else like living fire.
Talk of Midas, Croesus, Delphic treasures! they were all nothing to Timon and his wealth; why, the Persian King could not match it. My spade, my dearest smock-frock, you must hang, a votive offering to Pan.
And now I will buy up this desert corner, and build a tiny castle for my treasure, big enough for me to live in all alone, and, when I am dead, to lie in.
And be the rule and law of my remaining days to shun all men, be blind to all men, scorn all men. Friendship, hospitality, society, compassion — vain words all. To be moved by another’s tears, to assist another’s need — be such things illegal and immoral. Let me live apart like a wolf; be Timon’s one friend — Timon. All others are my foes and ill-wishers; to hold communion with them is pollution.
Let Timon keep his wealth to himself, scorn all men, and live in solitary luxury, quit of flattery and vulgar praise; let him sacrifice and feast alone, his own associate and neighbour, far from the world.
Be the name he loves Misanthropus, and the marks whereby he may be known peevishness and spleen, wrath and rudeness and abhorrence.
Mover of this resolution — Timon, son of Echecratides of Collytus. Presiding officer — the same Timon. The ayes have it. Let it be law, and duly observed.
All the same, I would give a good deal to have the fact of my enormous wealth generally known; they would all be fit to hang themselves over it….
Why, what is this? Well, that is quick work. Here they come running from every point of the compass, all dusty and panting; they have smelt out the gold somehow other.
Now, shall I get on top of this knoll, keep up a galling fire of stones from my point of vantage, and get rid of them that way? Or shall I make an exception to my law by parleying with them for once? contempt might hit harder than stones.
Yes, I think that is better; I will stay where I am, and receive them.
Let us see, who is this in front?
Ah, Gnathonides the flatterer; when I asked an alms of him the other day, he offered me a halter; many a cask of my wine has he made a beast of himself over.
I congratulate him on his speed; first come, first served.
Part A’: https://www.lecturesbureau.gr/1/timon-the-misanthrope-part-a-1452/?lang=en
Part B’: https://www.lecturesbureau.gr/1/timon-the-misanthrope-part-b-1453/?lang=en
Part C’: https://www.lecturesbureau.gr/1/timon-the-misanthrope-part-c-1454/?lang=en
The Works of Lucian of Samosata
Translated by Fowler, H W and F G.