The Bodleian First Folio

Reference: hh5r - Tragedies, p. 97

Left Column

Timon of Athens. In pitty of our aged, and our youth,

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I cannot choose but tell him that I care not, And let him tak't at worst: For their Kniues care not, While you haue throats to answer. For my selfe, There's not a whittle, in th'vnruly Campe, But I do prize it at my loue, before

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The reuerends Throat in Athens. So I leaue you To the protection of the prosperous Gods, As Theeues to Keepers. Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine. Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,

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It will be seene to morrow. My long sicknesse Of Health, and Liuing, now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go, liue still, Be Alcibiades your plague; you his, And last so long enough. 1

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We speake in vaine. Tim. But yet I loue my Country, and am not One that reioyces in the common wracke, As common bruite doth put it. 1 That's well spoke. Tim.

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Commend me to my louing Countreymen. 1 These words become your lippes as they passe tho row them. 2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers In their applauding gates. Tim. Commend me to them,

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And tell them, that to ease them of their greefes, Their feares of Hostile strokes, their Aches losses, Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes That Natures fragile Vessell doth sustaine In lifes vncertaine voyage, I will some kindnes do them,

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Ile teach them to preuent wilde Alcibiades wrath. 1 I like this well, he will returne againe. Tim. I haue a Tree which growes heere in my Close, That mine owne vse inuites me to cut downe, And shortly must I fell it. Tell my Friends,

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Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree, From high to low throughout, that who so please To stop Affliction, let him take his haste; Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe, And hang himselfe. I pray you do my greeting. Stew.

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Trouble him no further, thus you still shall Finde him. Tim. Come not to me againe, but say to Athens, Timon hath made his euerlasting Mansion Vpon the Beached Verge of the salt Flood,

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Who once a day with his embossed Froth The turbulent Surge shall couer; thither come, And let my graue‑stone be your Oracle: Lippes, let foure words go by, and Language end: What is amisse, Plague and Infection mend.

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Graues onely be mens workes, and Death their gaine; Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne. Exit Timon. 1

His discontents are vnremoueably coupled to Na

ture.

2 Our hope in him is dead: let vs returne,

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And straine what other meanes is left vnto vs In our deere perill. 1 It requires swift foot. Exeunt.

[Act 5, Scene 2] Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger. 1 Thou hast painfully discouer'd: are his Files As full as thy report?

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Mes.

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I haue spoke the least. Besides his expedition promises present approach. 2 We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. Mes. I met a Currier, one mine ancient Friend, Whom though in generall part we were oppos'd,

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Yet our old loue made a particular force, And made vs speake like Friends. This man was riding From Alcibiades to Timons Caue, With Letters of intreaty, which imported His Fellowship i'th'cause against your City,

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In part for his sake mou'd. Enter the other Senators. 1 Heere come our Brothers. 3 No talke of Timon, nothing of him expect, The Enemies Drumme is heard, and fearefull scouring Doth choake the ayre with dust: In, and prepare,

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Ours is the fall I feare, our Foes the Snare. Exeunt

[Act 5, Scene 3] Enter a Souldier in the Woods, seeking Timon. Sol. By all description this should be the place. Whose heere? Speake hoa. No answer? What is this? Tymon is dead, who hath out‑stretcht his span, Some Beast reade this; There do's not liue a Man.

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Dead sure, and this his Graue, what's on this Tomb, I cannot read: the Charracter Ile take with wax, Our Captaine hath in euery Figure skill; An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes: Before proud Athens hee's set downe by this,

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Whose fall the marke of his Ambition is. Exit.

[Act 5, Scene 4] Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens. Alc. Sound to this Coward, and lasciuious Towne, Our terrible approach. Sounds a Parly. The Senators appeare vpon the wals. Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time With all Licentious measure, making your willes

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The scope of Iustice. Till now, my selfe and such As slept within the shadow of your power Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd An ink mark follows the end of this line. Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush, When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong

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Cries (of it selfe) no more: Now breathlesse wrong, Shall sit and pant in your great Chaires of ease, And pursie Insolence shall breake his winde With feare and horrid flight. 1. Sen. Noble, and young;

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When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit, Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause of feare, We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme, To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loues Aboue their quantitie. 2

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So did we wooe Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue By humble Message, and by promist meanes: We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue The common stroke of warre. 1

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These walles of ours, Were not erected by their hands, from whom You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such, That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools shold fall For priuate faults in them. 2

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Nor are they liuing Who

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[Act 5, Scene 2] Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger. 1 Thou hast painfully discouer'd: are his Files As full as thy report? Mes.