Tim.
O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity: below thy sister's orb
Infect the air. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth
Scarce is dividant, touch with several fortunes,
The greater scorns the lesser. Not ev'n nature,
To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
But by contempt of nature.
Raise me this beggar, and deny't that lord,
The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
The beggar native honour:
It is the pasture lards the beggar's sides,

The want that makes him lean. Who dares? who dares,
In purity of manhood, stand upright,
And say, this man's flatterer? if one be,
So are they all, for every † ^notegreeze of fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool: ^{a note}All is oblique,
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
But direct villany. Then be abhorr'd,
All feasts, societies, and throngs of men.
His semblable, yea himself, Timon disdains,
Destruction phang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! [Digging the earth.
Who seeks for better of thee, sawce 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 heav'ns! thus much of this will make
Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;
Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant.
&plquo;You gods! why this? what this? you gods? why, this
&plquo;Will lug your priests and servants from your sides:
&plquo;Pluck stout mens pillows from below their heads.
&plquo;This yellow slave
&plquo;Will knit and break religions; bless th' accurs'd;
&plquo;Make the hoar leprosie ador'd; place thieves,
&plquo;And give them title, knee, and approbation
&plquo;With senators on the bench: this is it
&plquo;That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
&plquo;She, whom the spittle-house and ulcerous sores
&plquo;Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
&plquo;To th' April day again. Come, damned earth,
&plquo;Thou common whore of mankind, that putt'st odds
&plquo;Among the rout of nations, I will make thee

&plquo;Do thy right nature—[March afar off.] 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. [Keeping some gold.

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