Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eate it.
Alc. Alc.
Alc. When I haue laid proud Athens on a heape:
Tim. Tim.
Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens.
Alc. I Timon, and haue cause.
Tim. The Gods confound them all in thy Conquest,
Tim. And thee after, when thou hast Conquer'd.
Alc. Why me, Timon?
Tim. That by killing of Villaines
Tim. Thou was't borne to conquer my Country.
Tim. Put vp thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, go on;
Tim. Be as a Plannetary plague, when Ioue
Tim. Will o're some high‑Vic'd City, hang his poyson
Tim. In the sicke ayre: let not thy sword skip one:
Tim. Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard,