With senators on the bench: this is it,
That makes the wappen'd1 widow wed again :
She, whom 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 odds
Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
Do thy right nature.3 [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.

Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA.

For showing me again the eyes of man!

Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to

thee,

That art thyself a man?

Timon. I am misanthropos, and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,

That I might love thee something.

1 Sorrowful.

2 i. e. restores to all the freshness of youth.
3 Lie in the earth where Nature laid thee.

Alc.

I know thee well;

But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

Timon. 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 ground, gules,1 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.

Phry.

Thy lips rot off!

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

Alc. How came the noble Timon to this change? Timon. As the moon does, by wanting light to

give;

But then renew I could not, like the moon :

There were no suns to borrow of.

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

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

1 Red: a term of heraldry.

Timon. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. Alc. I see them now: then was a blessed time. Timon. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

Timan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world

Voiced so regardfully?

Timon.

Timan. Yes.

Art thou Timandra?

Timon. 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 rose-cheeked youth
To the tub-fast and the diet.

Timan.

Hang thee, monster!

Alc. Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.

I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,

The want whereof doth daily make revolt

In my penurious band. I have heard, and grieved, How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbor states, But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,Timon. I pr'ythee, beat thy drum, and get thee

gone.

Alc. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. Timon. How dost thou pity him, whom thou dost trouble?

I had rather be alone.

Alc.

Why, fare thee well:

Here's some gold for thee.

Timon.

Keep 't; I cannot eat it.

Alc. When I have laid proud Athens on a

By killing villains, thou wast born to conquer
My country.

Put up thy gold; go on,-here's gold,―go on :
Be as a planetary plague, when Jove

Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison

In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one:

Pity not honor'd age for his white beard;

He's 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 trenchant1 sword; for those milk

paps,

That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, Are not within the leaf of pity writ;

But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the

babe,

Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;

¡ Sharp.

Think it a bastard, whom the oracle

Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse: 1 swear against objects; 2

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 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
givest me,

Not all thy counsel.

Timon. Dost thou, or dost thou not, Heaven's curse upon thee!

Phry. and Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon. Hast thou more?

Timon. Enough to make a whore forswear her

trade,

And to make whores a 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;

Without pity.

2 i. e. of compassion.

3 Vocation.