I Sen. Here come our brothers.

3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with duft: 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 a 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 out-stretch'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 ag'd interpreter, though young in days: Before proud Athens he's set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.


SCENE V. Before the walls of Athens. Trumpets found. Enter ALCIBIADES, and Forces. ALCIB. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach.

[A parley founded. Enter SENATORS on the Walls. Till now you have gone on, and fillid the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such As slept within the shadow of your power, Have wander'd with our travers d arms, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush, When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong,

Cries, of itself, No more: now breathless wrong
Shall fit and pant in your great chairs of case ;
And pursy insolence shall break his wind,
With fear, and horrid flight.

i Sen. Noble, and young,
When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou hadft power, or we had cause of fear,
We sent to thee; to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
Above their quantity.

2 Sen. So did we woo
Transformed Timon to our city's love,
By humble message, and by promis'd means ;
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

i Sen. These walls of ours
Were not erected by their hands, from whom
You have receiv'd your griefs : nor are they such,
That these great towers, trophies, and schools should fall
For private faults in them.

2 Sen. Nor are they living,
Who were the motives that you first went out;
Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess
Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
Into our city with thy banners spread :
By decimation, and a tithed death,
(If thy revenges hunger for that food,
Which nature loaths,) take thou the destin'd tenth ;
And by the hazard of the spotted die,
· Let die the spotted.

i Sen. All have not offended
For those that were, it is not square, to take,
On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands,
Vol. V.


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Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage:
Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin,
Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall
With those that have offended : like a shepherd,
Approach the fold, and cull the infected forth,
But kill not all together.

2 Sen. What thou wilt,
Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile,
Than hew to’t with thy sword.

I SEN. Set but thy foot Against our rampir'd gates, and they shall ope; So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, To say, thou'lt enter friendly,

2 Sen. Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour else, That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress, And not as our confusion, all thy powers Shall make their harbour in qur town, till we Have feald thy full desire.

ALCIB. Then there's my glove; Descend, and open your uncharged ports : Those enemies of Timon's, and mine own, Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof, Fall, and no more : and, -to atone your

With my more noble meaning,—not a man
Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
But shall be remedied, to your publick laws
At heaviest answer.

Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken.
Alcib. Descend, and keep your words.

The Senators descend, and open the gates,

Enter a SOLDIER.
Sol. My noble general, Timon is dead;



hem o'the sea :
And, on his grave-stone, this insculpture; which
With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
Interprets for my poor ignorance. .
ALCIB. [Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched

Soul bereft: Seek not my name : A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I Timon ; who, alive, all living men did bate : Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy gait. These well express in thee thy latter fpirits : Though thou abhorr'dft in us our human griefs, Scorn’dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead Is noble Timon; of whose memory Hereafter more.—Bring me into your city, And I will use the olive with


sword : Make war breed peace; make peace stint war; make each Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.Let our drums strike.


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