Tim.
Let me look back upon thee,14Q1160 o thou wall,
That girdl'st ^note in those wolves; Dive in the earth,
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent;
Obedience fail in children! slaves, and fools,
Pluck the grave wrinkl'd senate from the bench,
And minister in their steads! to general filths
Convert o'the instant, green virginity,
Do't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast;
Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal;
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
And pill by law! maid, to thy master's bed,
Thy mistress is o'the brothel! son of ^note sixteen,
Pluck the lin'd crutch from thy old limping sire,
With it beat out his brains! piety, and fear,
Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
Domestick awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
Decline to your confounding contraries,
And let confusion ^note live! Plagues, incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap

On Athens, ripe for stroke! thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
As lamely as their manners! lust and liberty
Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth;
That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
And drown themselves in riot! itches, blains,
Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop
Be general leprosy! breath infect breath;
That their society, as their friendship, may
Be meerly poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee
But nakedness, thou détestable town:
Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!
Timon will to the woods; where he shall find
The unkindest beast more kinder ^note than mankind.
The gods confound (hear me, you good gods all)
The Athenians both within and out that wall!
And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
To the whole race of mankind, high, and low!
Amen. [Exit. SCENE II. The same. Room in Timon's House. Enter Steward, and certain Servants.

1. S.
Hear you, good master steward; where's our master?
Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

Ste.
Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
Let be ^note recorded by the righteous gods,
I am as poor as you.

1. S.
Such a house broke!
So noble a master fall'n! All gone; and not
One friend, to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him!

2. S.
As we do turn our backs

From our companion, thrown into his grave;
So his familiars from his ^note bury'd fortunes
Slink all away; leave their false vows with him,
Like empty purses pick'd: and his poor self,
A dedicated beggar to the air,
With his disease of all-shun'd poverty,
Walks, like ^note contempt, alone. More of our follows. ^note Enter other Servants.

Ste.
All broken implements of a ruin'd house.

3. S.
Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery,
That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
Serving alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our bark;
And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
Into this sea of air.

Ste.
Good fellows all,
The latest of my wealth I'll share among'st you.
Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
We have seen better days. Let each take some; [giving them Money.
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. [embrace, and Exeunt Servants.
O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since riches point to misery, and contempt?
Who'd be so mock'd with glory? or to live
But in a dream of friendship?
To have his pomp, and all what state compounds,
But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?

Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart;
Undone by goodness!—Strange, unusual blood,
When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!
Who then dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still ^note mar men.
My dearest lord,—blest, to be most accurst;
Rich, only to be wretched;—thy great fortunes
Are made thy chief affictions. Alas, kind lord!
He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
Of monstrous friends: nor has he ^note with him to
Supply his life, or that which can command it.
I'll follow, and inquire him out:
I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. [Exit. SCENE III. Woods; a Cave in View. Enter Timon, with a Spade.

Tim.
O blessed breeding sun,14Q1161 draw from the earth
Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
Infect the air! Twin'd brothers of one womb,—
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarce is dividant,—touch them with several fortunes,
The greater scorns the lesser: Not his nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and denude that ^note lord;
The senator ^note shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:
It is the pasture lards ^note the weather's ^note sides,
The want that makes him lean. ^note Who dares, who dares,
In purity of manhood stand upright,
And say, This man's a flatterer? if one be,

So are they all; for every grize of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique; ^note
There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
But direct villany. Therefore, be abhor'd
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
Destruction phang mankind!—Earth, yield me roots: [digging.
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
With thy most operant poison! What is here?
Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
I am no idle votarist; Roots, you clear heavens!
Thus † much of this will make black, white; foul, fair;
Wrong, right; base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.
Ha, you gods! why this? why this, you ^note gods? Why, this
Will lug your priests and servants from your sides;
Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: ^note
This yellow slave
Will knit and break religions, bless the accurst;
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves,
And give them title, knee, and approbation,
With senators on the bench: this this is it,
That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
She, whom ^note the spital-house and ulcerous sores
Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
To the April-day again. Come, damned earth,
Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st ^note odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature. [Drum.] Ha! a drum? Thou'rt quick,
But yet I'll bury † thee: Thou'lt go, strong thief,
When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand:

Nay, stay thou † out for earnest. Enter Alcibiades, with Phrynia and Tymandra; Soldiers, at a Distance, marching.

Alc.
What art thou there? speak.

Tim.
A beast, as thou art: The canker gnaw thy heart,
For shewing me again the eyes of man!

Alc.
What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,
That art thyself a man?

Tim.
I am misanthropos, and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Alc.
I know thee well;
But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Tim.
I know thee too; and more, than that I know thee,
I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
With man's blood paint the ^note ground, gules, total gules:
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
Then what should war be? This fell † whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

Phr.
Thy lips rot off!

Tim.
I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.

Alc.
How came the noble Timon to this change?

Tim.
As the moon does,14Q1162 by wanting light to give:
But then renew I could not, like the moon;
There were no suns to borrow of.

Alc.
Noble Timon,
What friendship may I do thee; ^note

Tim.
None but this,
To maintain my opinion.

Alc.
What is it, Timon?

Tim.
Promise me friendship, but perform none: If
Thou wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for
Thou art a man! if thou dost promise, and
Perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!

Alc.
I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

Tim.
Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity.

Alc.
I see them now; then was a blessed time.

Tim.
As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

Tym.
Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world
Voic'd so regardfully?

Tim.
Art thou Tymandra?

Tym.
Yes.

Tim.
Be a whore still! they love thee not, that use thee;
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
For tubs, and baths; bring down the rose-cheek'd youth
To the tub-fast ^note, and the diet.

Tym.
Hang thee, monster!

Alc.
Pardon him, sweet Tymandra; for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. ^note—
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band: I have heard, and griev'd,
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
But for thy sword and fortune, trop upon them, ^note—

Tim.
I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

Alc.
I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

Tim.
How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
I had rather be alone.

Alc.
Why, fare thee well:
Here is some † gold for thee.

Tim.
Keep it, I cannot eat it.

Alc.
When I have lay'd proud Athens on a heap,—

Tim.
War'st thou 'gainst Athens?

Alc.
Ay, Timon, and have cause.

Tim.
The gods confound them in ^note thy conquest; and
Thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!

Alc.
Why me, Timon?

Tim.
That, by killing of villains, thou wast born
To conquer thy own countrey ^note.14Q1163
Put up thy gold: Go on,—here's † gold,—go on;
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove ^note
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison
In the sick air: Let not thy sword skip one:
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard,
He is an usurer: Strike me the counterfeit matron
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself's a bawd: Let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
That through the window-lawn bore ^note at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
Set ^note them down horrible traitors: Spare not the babe,
Whose dimpl'd smiles from fools exhaust their ^note mercy;
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounc'd ^note thy throat ^note shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse: Swear against objects,
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's &dagger2; gold to pay thy soldiers:
Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

Alc.
Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou giv'st me,

Not all thy counsel.

Tim.
Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee!

Wom.
Give us some gold, good Timon; Hast thou more?

Tim.
Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,14Q1164
And to make whore ^note a ^note bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant: You are not oathable,—
Although, I know, you'll swear, terribly swear,
Into strong shudders, and to heavenly agues,
The immortal gods that hear you,—spare your oaths,
I'll trust to your conditions: Be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turn-coats: Yet may your pains, six months ^note,
Be quite contráry: thatch ^note your poor thin roofs
With burthens of the dead;— ^note some that were hang'd,
No matter;—wear them, betray with them: whore still;
Paint 'till a horse may mire upon your face,
A pox of wrinkles!

Wom.
Well, more gold;—What then?—
Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.

Tim.
Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's sparring ^note. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That scolds ^note against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular not foresees ^note,
Smels for the general weal: make curl'd-pate ruffians bald;
And let the unscar'd braggarts of the war

Derive some pain from you: Plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection. There's more &dagger2; gold:
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!

Wom.
More counsel, with more money, bounteous Timon.

Tim.
More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

Alc.
Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewel, Timon;
If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

Tim.
If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

Alc.
I never did thee harm ^note.

Tim.
Yes, thou spok'st well of me.

Alc.
Call'st thou that harm?

Tim.
Men daily find it. Hence;
Get thee away, and take thy beagles with thee.

Alc.
We but offend him.—Strike. [March. [Exeunt Alcibiades, &c. Phr. and Tym.

Tim.
That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
Should yet be hungry:—Common mother,14Q1165 thou
Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all; o thou, whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puft,
Engenders the black toad, and adder blue,
The gilded newt, and eyeless venom'd worm,
With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons doth ^note hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! [digs.
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious ^note womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Go great with tygers, dragons, wolves, and bears;

Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marble ^note mansion all above
Never presented!—O, a † root,—Dear thanks!
Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn ^note leas;
Whereof ingrateful man, with licorish draughts,
And morsels unctious, greases his pure mind,
That from it all consideration slips!— Enter Apemantus.
More man? Plague, plague!

Ape,
I was directed hither: Men report,
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

Tim.
'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate: Consumption catch thee!

Ape.
This is in thee14Q1166a nature but affected ^note;
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
From change of fortune. ^note Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lye soft;
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these weeds ^note,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee: hindge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: Thou wast told thus;
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome ^note,
To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just,
That thou turn rascal; had'st thou wealth again,
Rascals should hav't. Do not assume my likeness.

Tim.
Were I ^note like thee, I'd throw away myself.

Ape.
Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;

A madman so long, now a fool: What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boist'rous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moist trees ^note,
That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook,
Candy'd with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er- night's surfeit? Call the creatures,—
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements expos'd,
Answer meer nature,—bid them flatter thee;
O, thou shalt find—

Tim.
A fool of thee: Depart.

Ape.
I love thee ^note better now than ere I did.

Tim.
I hate thee worse.

Ape.
Why?

Tim.
Thou flatter'st misery.

Ape.
I flatter not; but say, thou art a caitiff.

Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?

Ape.
To vex thee.

Tim.
Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Dost please thyself in't?

Ape.
Ay.

Tim.
What a knave thou! ^note

Ape.
If thou did'st put this sour cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'dst courtier ^note be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Out-vies ^{note note} uncertain pomp, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never compleat;
The other, at high wish: Best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,

Worse than the worst, content.
Thou should'st desire to dye, being miserable.

Tim.
Not by his breath,14Q1167 that is more miserable.
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
Had'st thou, like us, from our first swath, proceeded
Through sweet ^note degrees that this brief world affords
To such as may the passive drugs of it
Freely command, ^note thou would'st have plung'd thyself
In general riot; melted down thy youth
In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
Who had the world as my confectionary;
The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
At duty, more than I could frame employment: ^note
That numberless upon me stuck, ^note as leaves
Do on the oak; and with ^note one winter's brush
Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
For every storm that blows: I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is some burthen:
Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
Hath made thee hard ^note in't. Why should'st thou hate men?
They never flatter'd thee: What hast thou given?
If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
Must be thy subject; who in spite put stuff
To some she beggar, and compounded thee
Poor rogue hereditary. Hence; be gone!
If thou had'st not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been a knave, and flatterer.

Ape.
Art thou proud yet?

Tim.
Ay, that I am not thee.

Ape.
I, that I was
No prodigal.

Tim.
I, that I am one now:
Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee ^note gone.
That the whole life of Athens were in † this!
Thus would I eat it. [gnawing a Root.

Ape.
Here, † I will mend thy feast. [throwing him a Crust.

Tim.
First mend my company ^note, take away thyself.

Ape.
So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

Tim.
'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
If not, I would it were.

Ape.
What would'st thou have to Athens?

Tim.
Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
Tell them there, I have gold; look, † so I have.

Ape.
Here is no use for gold.

Tim.
The best, and truest:
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Ape.

Where ly'st o'nights, Timon?

Tim.

Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

Ape.

Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it.

Tim.

'Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind.

Ape.

Where would'st thou send it?

Tim.

To sauce thy dishes.

Ape.

The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends: When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much courtesy ^note; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despis'd

for the contrary. There's a † medlar for thee, eat it.

Tim.

On what I hate I feed not.

Ape.

Dost hate a medlar?

Tim.

Ay, though it look like thee.

Ape.

An thou hadst hated medlers sooner, thou should'st have lov'd thyself better now. What man did'st thou ever know unthrift, that was belov'd after his means?

Tim.

Who, without those means thou talk'st of, did'st thou ever know belov'd?

Ape.

Myself.

Tim.

I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog.

Ape.

What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim.

Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What would'st thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Ape.

Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim.

Would'st thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

Ape.

Ay, Timon.

Tim.

A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee to attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee: if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee: if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee, and still thou liv'dst but as a breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou should'st hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and

make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert thou a bear, thou would'st be kill'd by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou would'st be seiz'd by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert germane to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life: all thy safety were remotion; and thy defence, absence. What beast could'st thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation?

Ape.

If thou could'st please me with speaking to me, thou might'st have hit upon it here: The common-wealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim.

How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

Ape.

Yonder comes a poet, and a painter: The plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way: When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.

Tim.

When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog, than Apemantus.

Ape.
Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

Tim.
'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.

Ape.
A plague on thee, thou art too bad to curse.

Tim.
All villains, that do stand by thee, are pure.

Ape.
There is no leprosy, but what thou speak'st.

Tim.
If I name thee,—
I'd beat ^note thee, but I should infect my hands.

Ape.
I would my tongue could rot them off.

Tim.
Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Ape.
'Would thou would'st burst.

Tim.
Away,
Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry, I shall lose
A stone by thee. [throwing at him.

Ape.
Beast!

Tim.
Slave!

Ape.
Toad!

Tim.
Rogue, rogue, rogue! [Apemantus retreats backward, as going.
I am sick of this false world; and will love nought,
But e'en the meer necessities upon it.
Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lye where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,
That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce [looking on the Gold.
'Twixt natural son and sire ^note! thou bright defiler
Of Hymen's ^note purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
That solder'st close impossibilities,
And mak'st them kiss; that speak'st with every tongue,
To every purpose! o thou touch of hearts,
Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
May have the world in empire!

Ape.
'Would 'twere so;— [advancing.
But not 'till I am dead.—I'll say thou hast gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim.
Throng'd to?

Ape.
Ay.

Tim.
Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Ape.
Live, and love thy misery!

Tim.
Long live so, and so dye!—So, I am quit. [Exit Apemantus.
More things like men?14Q1168 Eat, Timon, and abhor them. ^note Enter certain Thieves.

1. T.

Where should he have this gold? It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his remainder: The meer want of gold, and the falling-from of ^note his friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2. T.

It is nois'd, he hath a mass of treasure.

3. T.

Let us make the assay upon him; if he care not for't, he will supply us easily; If he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it?

2. T.

True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

1. T.

Is not this he?

The.

Where?

2. T.

'Tis his description.

3. T.

He; I know him.

The.

Save thee, Timon.

Tim.

Now, thieves?

The.

Soldiers, not thieves.

Tim.

Both, both; and ^note women's sons.

The.
We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

Tim.
Your greatest want is, you want much ^note of men. ^{note note}
Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth a hundred springs:
The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips; ^note
The bounteous huswife, nature, on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? why want?

1. T.
We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,

As beasts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim.
Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con,
That you are thieves profest; that you work not
In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
Here's &dagger2; gold: Go, suck the subtle blood o'the grape,
'Till the high fever seeth your blood to froth,
And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
His antidotes are poison, and he slays
More than you rob: take wealth and lives together; ^note14Q1169
Do villany, do, since you protest to ^note do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The suns' a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
The earth into ^{note note} salt tears; the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stoln
From general excrement: each thing's a ^note thief;
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd ^note theft. Love not yourselves; away;
Rob one another. There's more &dagger2; gold: Cut throats;
All that you meet are thieves: To Athens, go,
Break open shops; for nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it: Steal not less, for this
I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er!
Amen. [retiring towards his Cave.

3. T.

H'as almost charm'd me from my profession, by persuading me to it.

1. T.

'Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us, not to have us thrive in our mistery. ^note

2. T.

I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

1. T.

Let us first see peace in Athens.

2. T.

There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true.