Summary
Timon comes out of his cave and considers the sun and the earth. He hopes the sun above breeds plagues below, and that everything of like nature will come to hate each other. He rages about flatterers and says all men are villains. He abhors all of human society, and he hopes it comes to destruction. Then, while digging for roots in the ground, he finds a stash of gold. Astonished to have found gold when he now needs it least, Timon speaks of the awful power of wealth—how gold makes or breaks religion, turns thieves into senators, and convinces aged widows to wed again. He orders the earth to hide the gold and reveal edible roots, then he reburies the gold, while keeping some of it.
Then Alcibiades enters accompanied by two prostitutes. He doesn’t recognize Timon at first, and he asks him who he is. Timon introduces himself as Misanthropos, a hater of mankind. Alcibiades recognizes him and asks him how he changed so much. Alcibiades offers his friendship, but Timon turns it down, saying that no man can promise friendship and genuinely perform it. Alcibiades says he would like to help Timon, and though he has little gold to give, he offers him a small amount. Timon turns it down, and Alcibiades promises to help him once he’s finished sacking Athens. Timon perks up at the mention of an assault on Athens. He gives Alcibiades gold to support his campaign, urging him to kill everyone, even old men, women, children, and priests. Alcibiades takes the gold, but he hesitates at Timon’s advice. The prostitutes ask for gold too, and he gives it to them, urging them to continue in their profession, spreading illness and disease to all their patrons. Alcibiades and the prostitutes make to depart for Athens, and Timon, shooing them away, says he hopes he never sees them again.
Timon continues digging in the ground for edible roots, speaking with disgust about mankind. Then Apemantus enters. Timon curses him, but Apemantus absorbs his slights, noting that his recent change in fortune has made Timon unlike himself, while his former flatterers still live in silk-lined comfort. Apemantus says it’s only fair that Timon has sunk to this level, for his wealth was frittered away on unworthy rascals. Timon tells him to leave, but Apemantus says he loves Timon more now than ever before. Timon asks why Apemantus has come. Apemantus replies that he only intends to vex Timon, and he declares that Timon has willed himself into misery. Timon points out that Apemantus was never in fortune’s favor. If Apemantus had lived Timon’s life, he would have wasted himself away without reaching respectability. But Timon was like an oak whose leaves blew off in one blast of wintry air, and now he must nakedly bear misfortune. Timon then urges him to leave, saying if he had not been born the most miserable of men, he would have been a hateful flatterer.
Apemantus asks him if he is done ranting and offers him food. Timon continues to harass Apemantus, then asks him what he would do with the world if he had the power. Apemantus says he would give it to the beasts. Timon says that wouldn’t help him at all, since every beast is subject to another. Apemantus agrees and notes that Athens has already become a forest of beasts. Eventually, Timon throws a rock at Apemantus to get him to leave. He looks on his gold, remarks on its power to influence the actions of men, and says he hopes it will reduce mankind do the behavior of low beasts. But Apemantus predicts that people will soon arrive in search of his gold. Just then, Apemantus sees bandits approaching, and he leaves.
The bandits speak amongst themselves, wondering how to get the gold from Timon. They approach, saying they are soldiers. But Timon suspects they are thieves and gives them gold. Discoursing on thievery, Timon says the moon steals light from the sun, the sea steals the tides from the moon, and the earth steals fertility from excrement. Everything—and everyone—steals. Timon orders the bandits to go to Athens, telling them to break into shops and steal as much as he has given them. The bandits are impressed by his speech, so much so that Timon nearly convinces them to give up their profession. They realize Timon advises them thus out of hatred for mankind, not out of enthusiasm for thievery. But they decide to head to Athens before giving up their trade, and exit.
Flavius now arrives, mourning his fallen master. When Timon sees Flavius, he doesn’t recognize him and declares that he has forgotten all men. Flavius says he was once Timon’s honest servant. Timon says he had no honest men about him, but Flavius insists his grief is honest, and Timon, seeing him weep, softens. Flavius offers his former master money, which nearly convinces Timon to change his mind about abandoning mankind. He says Flavius is more honest than he is wise, for by betraying Timon he could have found a much better job. He then asks Flavius if he’s merely feigned kindness to get something in return. Flavius insists that his kindness and love are real, and he offers to take care of Timon’s comfort in the wilderness. He says his only wish is to become rich so that he might make Timon rich again. Timon gives Flavius money on the condition that he lives apart from mankind and never gives anything away. Flavius begs to stay, but Timon sends him away.
Analysis
As the long final scene of act 4 opens, Timon reveals that he now completed his transformation from his philanthropic self to his misanthropic self. He signals this transformation most obviously when he introduces himself to Alcibiades as “Misanthropos.” However, he also demonstrates the transformation through the acerbic rhetoric in which he curses humankind—and, indeed, everything under the sun. He makes the scale of his misanthropic vision clear from the scene’s opening lines, which he frames as a bitterly ironic prayer: “O blessèd breeding sun, draw from earth / Rotten humidity; below thy sister’s orb / Infect the air!” (4.3.1–3). In addition to this curse, Timon reprises his earlier vision of a topsy-turvy world where social roles are reversed. Once again, he calls for the rich man and the poor to swap places: “Raise me this beggar and deny’t that lord; / The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, / The beggar native honor” (4.3.9–11).
Timon’s invocation of such an upside-down world seems to have an immediate effect, for as he digs in the ground for roots to eat, he finds a buried cache of gold. Suddenly rich when he no longer requires riches, Timon curses the gold as “damned earth, / Thou common whore of mankind” (4.3.42–43). Curiously, though Timon calls for the world to be turned on its head, he seems to suggest that the world is already upside-down, and that gold is the cause. Indeed, in his speech he implies that gold makes everything topsy-turvy: “This yellow slave / Will knit and break religions, bless th’ accursed, / Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves / And give them title, knee, and approbation / With senators on the bench” (4.3.34–38). Timon seems to want to carry the confounding power of gold to its extreme. Thus, in a further reversal that’s as comic as it is troubling, Timon engages in a series of perverse acts of “generosity” in which he doles out money to his various visitors, cursing them each in turn. Though he was once a man whose philanthropy created goodwill, Timon is now a man whose misanthropy seeks to fund the further corruption of the world.
In addition to showcasing Timon’s new persona as “Misanthropos,” it’s notable that this long scene is structured through a series of visitations. Aside from the group of bandits that arrives at the end, all three of the visitors who find Timon in the woods—Alcibiades, Apemantus, and Flavius—are sympathizers and the closest thing he has to true friends. Alcibiades is a man who, like Timon, is in exile, and whose shared hatred of Athens has led him to the decision to attack the city. Apemantus, meanwhile, is the same cynic he was in the play’s earlier scenes, and he now enjoys a degree of fellow feeling with the newly cynical Timon. Timon hurls insults and curses at both of these visitors, though it’s clear to the audience that, fundamentally, his view of the world is aligned with theirs. But the truest friend of all is his former steward, Flavius, whose genuine display of grief over his master’s downfall breaks through Timon’s misanthropic heart. The scene thus ends with the play’s first authentic exchange: Flavius presents Timon with his last remaining gold, and Timon returns the offer by giving Flavius the rest of the gold he dug up from the earth.