Ste.
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. S.
Bring us to his cave:
It is our part, and promise to the Athenians,
To speak with Timon.

2. S.
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 ^note it as it may.

Ste.
Here † is his cave.—
Peace and content be here! Lord ^note Timon, Timon,
Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians,
By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee;
Speak to them, noble Timon. Enter Timon.

Tim.
Thou sun, that comfort'st ^{note note}, burn!14Q1172—Speak, and be hang'd:
For each true word, a blister! and each false
Be cancerizing ^{note note} to the root o' the tongue,
Consuming it with speaking!

1. S.
Worthy Timon,—

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

1. S.
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. S.
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 lye

For thy best use and wearing.

2. S.
They confess,
Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:
But now ^note the publick body,—which doth seldom
Play the recanter,—feeling in itself
A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense ^note withal
Of it's own ^note fail ^note, restraining aid to Timon;
And sends ^note forth us, to make their sorrows' tender ^note, ^note
Together with a recompence more fruitful
Then ^note their offence can weigh down by the dram;
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth,
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs,
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. S.
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,
Allow'd ^note with absolute power, and thy good name
Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches ^note wild;
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace:

2. S.
And shakes his threat'ning sword
Against the walls of Athens.

1. S.
Therefore, Timon,—

Tim.
Well, sir, I will;14Q1173 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 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 in the unruly camp,
But I do prize it at my ^note love, before
The reverend'st ^note throat in Athens. So I leave you
To the protection of the prosperous gods,
As thieves to keepers.

Ste.
Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim.
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. S.
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. S.
That's well spoke.

Tim.
Commend me to my loving countrymen,—

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

2. S.
And enter in our ears, like great triúmphers
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 fragil vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them,
I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

1. S.
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, in the sequence ^note 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.

Ste.
Trouble 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 ^note 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 men's works; and death, their gain!
Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Exit Timon.

1. S.
His discontents are unremoveably
Coupl'd to his nature.

2. S.
Our hope in him is dead: let us return,
And strain what other means is left unto us
In our dear peril.

1. S.
It requires swift foot. [Exeunt.

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