Original: My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
Modern: My lords, please forgive me for speaking boldly,

Original: If I speak like a captain.
Modern: If I talk like a military commander.

Original: Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
Modern: Why do foolish men put themselves in danger during war,

Original: And not endure all threats? sleep upon’t,
Modern: Instead of just putting up with threats? They could sleep on it,

Original: And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
Modern: And let their enemies silently kill them,

Original: Without repugnancy? If there be
Modern: Without fighting back? If there is

Original: Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Modern: Such courage in just enduring pain, then what are we doing

Original: Abroad? why then, women are more valiant
Modern: Out here fighting? In that case, women are braver

Original: That stay at home, if bearing carry it,
Modern: When they stay home, if enduring hardship is what matters,

Original: And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon
Modern: And a donkey would be a better leader than a lion, a criminal

Original: Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
Modern: Weighed down with chains would be wiser than the judge,

Original: If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
Modern: If wisdom only comes from suffering. Oh my lords,

Original: As you are great, be pitifully good:
Modern: Since you are powerful, please show mercy:

Original: Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
Modern: Who wouldn’t criticize reckless behavior when they’re calm?

Original: To kill, I grant, is sin’s extremest gust;
Modern: To kill someone, I admit, is the worst kind of sin;

Original: But, in defence, by mercy, ‘tis most just.
Modern: But when defending yourself, by God’s mercy, it’s completely right.

Original: To be in anger is impiety;
Modern: To act in anger is ungodly;

Original: But who is man that is not angry?
Modern: But what man doesn’t get angry?

Original: Weigh but the crime with this.
Modern: Just consider the crime alongside this situation.

In Act III, Scene 5 of “Timon of Athens,” three Strangers discuss Timon’s financial ruin and the ingratitude of those he has helped. The First Stranger recounts how Lucius, who has benefited greatly from Timon’s generosity, has just refused to assist Timon in his time of need despite having ample means to do so. The Strangers express shock and moral outrage at this betrayal, noting that Lucius claimed poverty while actually possessing significant wealth. They observe how Lucius has received substantial gifts from Timon, including valuable horses.

The Strangers reflect on the cruel irony that those who have most benefited from Timon’s bounty are now the ones who refuse him aid. They comment on how men show their true nature when tested by requests for help, and how quickly friendship dissolves when money is involved. The Third Stranger notes that he himself has received little from Timon compared to others, yet feels ashamed by the behavior of those who have received much more. The scene serves as a chorus-like commentary on the action, with these outside observers articulating the moral bankruptcy of Timon’s fair-weather friends and the tragedy of his situation.

Timon of Athens tells the story of a wealthy Athenian nobleman whose excessive generosity leads to his downfall. In the first half of the play, Timon lavishes gifts, throws extravagant banquets, and freely lends money to anyone who asks, despite warnings from his loyal steward Flavius about his dwindling finances. Timon dismisses these concerns, believing his generosity will be repaid by the loyalty of his many friends. However, his creditors eventually come calling, and Timon discovers he has no money left to pay his debts.

When Timon’s financial ruin becomes apparent, he sends servants to ask his former friends and beneficiaries for loans to help him through his crisis. One by one, they all refuse him with various excuses - Lucilius claims his money is tied up in investments, Lucullus pretends not to be home, and Sempronius feels insulted that Timon didn’t ask him first. Faced with this universal rejection, Timon invites all his false friends to one final feast, where he serves them warm water and stones, then curses them and banishes himself from Athens.

Timon retreats to a cave in the wilderness outside Athens, where he becomes a misanthropic hermit, railing against humanity and civilization. While digging for roots to eat, he discovers gold in the earth. Various visitors come to see him in his exile, including the loyal Flavius, the philosopher Apemantus (who had always criticized Timon’s generosity), thieves seeking the gold, and the exiled general Alcibiades who is marching against Athens. Timon gives away the gold freely but refuses all attempts at reconciliation or friendship. The play ends with news of Timon’s death reaching Athens, where Alcibiades has successfully taken the city and promises to restore order and justice.