Flav.
It is in vain that you would speak with Timon:
For he is set so only to himself,
That nothing but himself, which looks like man,
Is friendly with him.

1 Sen.
Bring us to his Cave.
It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
To speak with Timon.

2 Sen.
At all times alike
Men are not still the same; 'twas time and griefs
That fram'd him thus. Time, with his fairer hand
Offering the fortunes of his former days,
The former man may make him; bring us to him,
And chance it as it may.

Flav.
Here is his Cave,
Peace and Content be here. Lord Timon! Timon!
Look out, and speak to friends. Th' Athenians
By two of their most rev'rend senate greet thee.
Speak to them, noble Timon. Enter Timon out of his Cave.

Tim.
Thou Sun, that comfort'st, burn!—Speak, and be hang'd!
For each true word a blister, and each false
Be cauterizing to the root o'th' tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

1 Sen.
Worthy Timon,—

Tim.
—Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

2 Sen.
The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Tim.
I thank them. And would send them back the plague,
Could I but catch it for them.

1 Sen.
O, forget
What we are sorry for; ourselves, in thee.
The Senators, with one consent of love,
Intreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

2 Sen.
They confess
Tow'rd thee forgetfulness, too general, gross;
^{9 note}And now the publick body, which doth seldom
Play the recanter, feeling in itself
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
^{1 note}

And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim.
You witch me in it,
Surprize me to the very brink of tears.
Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

1 Sen.
Therefore so please thee to return with us,
And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
The Captainship; thou shalt be met with thanks,
^{4 note}

2 Sen.
And shakes his threatning sword
Against the walls of Athens.

1 Sen.
Therefore, Timon—

Tim.
Well, Sir, I will. Therefore I will, Sir. Thus—
If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That—Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by th' 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 chuse but tell him, that—I care not.
And let him take't at worst. For their knives I care not,
While you have throats to answer. For myself,
There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp,

But I do prize it at my love, before
The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosp'rous Gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Flav.
Stay not. All's in vain.

Tim.
Why, I was writing of my epitaph,
It will be seen to morrow. * ^noteMy 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.

Tim.
Commend me to my loving countrymen.

1 Sen.
These words become your lips, as they pass thro' them.

2 Sen.
And enter in our ears, like great triumphers
In 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 do
Some kindness to them, I'll teach them to prevent
Wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2 Sen.
I like this well, he will return again.

Tim.
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, ^{5 note}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 ax,
And hang himself—I pray you, do my Greeting.

Flav.
Vex him no further, thus you still shall find him.

Tim.
Come not to me again, but say to Athens,
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;
Which once a-day with his embossed 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 mens' works, and death their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his Reign. [Exit Timon.

1 Sen.
His discontents are unremoveably coupled to his nature.

2 Sen.
Our hope in him is dead. Let us return,
And strain what other means is left unto us
^{6 note}In our dear peril.

1 Sen.
It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

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