Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That Timon cares not: but if he sack fair Athens, And take our goodly aged men by the beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain

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,
There's not a whittle 1 in the unruly camp,

But I do prize it at my love before

2

The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav.

Stay not; all's in vain. Timon. 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 Se.

We speak in vain.

Timon. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck,

A clasp knife.

2 Propitious.

As common bruit 1 doth put it.

1 Se.

That's well spoke. Timon. Commend me to my loving country

men,

1 Se. These words become your lips as they pass through them.

2 Se. And enter in our ears, like great triumphers In their applauding gates.

Timon.
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 :

I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2 Se. I like this well; he will return again. Timon. I have a tree, which grows here in my

close,

That mine own use invites me to cut down,

And shortly must I fell it.

Tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,

From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,

Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,

And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. Flav. Trouble him no farther; thus you still shall find him.

1 Report.

Timon. Come not to me again; but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Whom once a day with his embossed 1 froth The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come, And let my grave-stone be your oracle. Lips, let sour words go by, and language end: What is amiss, plague and infection mend! Graves only be men's works, and death their gain! Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Exit Timon.

1 Se. His discontents are unremovably Coupled to nature.

2 Se. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us

In our dear 2 peril.

1 Se.

It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The walls of Athens.

Enter two SENATORS and MESSENGER.

1 Se. Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his

Present approach.

2 Se. We stand much hazard, if they bring not

Timon.

Mes. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend ;Whom, though in general part we were opposed, Yet our old love made a particular force,

And made us speak like friends.

riding

From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,

This man was

With letters of entreaty, which imported
His fellowship i' the cause against your city,
In part for his sake moved.

1 Se.

Enter SENATORS from Timon.

Here come our brothers.

3 Se. No talk of Timon; nothing of him expect. The 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 SOLDIER, seeking Timon.

Sol. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer?--What is

this?

Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span. Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man.

Dead, sure; and this his grave.

What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character

I'll take with wax.

Our captain hath in every figure skill;

An aged interpreter, though young in days.
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Before the walls of Athens.

Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES and forces.

Alc. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach. [a parley sounded.

Enter SENATORS on the walls.

Till now,
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice: till now, myself, and such
As slept within the shadow of your power,

you have gone on, and fill'd the time

Have wander'd with our traversed arms,1 and

breathed

Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush,2 When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong, Cries, of itself, No more:' now breathless wrong Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease; And pursy insolence shall break his wind