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* Some beast rear’d this ; here does not live a man.
Dead, sure, and this his grave; what's on this tomb?
I cannot read; the character l'll take with wax;
Our Captain hath in every figure skill,
An ag'd interpreter, tho' young in days:
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Who's Fall the mark of his ambition is. (Exit.

S N

C Ε Ν Ε

V.

Before the Walls of Athens. Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers.

Alc. S OurNepriblehisperward

, and lascivious town

'Till now you

Our terrible Approach.

[Sound a parley. The Senators appear

upon the walls.

have gone on, and fill'd 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 traverft 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 ease, 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, * Some beast read this; here does not live a man.

no] Some Beast read what? The Soldier had yet only seen the rude Pile of Earth heap'd up for Timon's Grave, and not the Inscription upon it. We should read,

Some Beast reard this; The Soldier seeking, by order, for Timon, sees such an irregular Molc, as he concludes must have been the Workmanship of some Beast inhabiting the Woods; and such a Cavity, as either must have been to over-arch'd, or happen'd by the casual falling in of the Ground.

Ere

Ere thou hadst power, or we had cause to 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 'mends :
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 tow'rs, 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 on, oh, 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, revenge: Crimes, like to lands, 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 blufter of thy wrath must fall With those that have offended; like a shepherd, Approach the fold, and cull th' 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 our town, till we
Have seal’d thy full desire.

Alc. 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; to atone your fears
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 by public laws
At heaviest answer.

Both. 'Tis moft nobly spoken.
Alc. Descend, and keep your words.

Enter a Soldier.
Sol. My noble General, Timon is dead;
Entomb'd upon the very hem o'th' fea;
And on the grave-stone this Insculpture, which
With wax I brought away; whose soft impression
Interpreteth for my poor ignorance.

[Alcibiades reads the epitaph.}
Here lies a wretched coarse, of wretched soul bereft:
Seek not my name: a plague .consume you caitiffs left!
Here ţie I Timon, who all living men did hate,

Pass by, and curse thy fill, but say not here thy gait. These well express in thee thy latter spirits: Tho`thou abhor'dít in us our human griefs,

Scorn'd

$

Scorn'd our brine's flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard nature fall; yet rich conceit
Taught thee to make vaft 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 my sword; Make War breed Peace; make Peace stint War;

make each Prescribe to other, as each other's Leach. Let our drums strike.

Exeunt.

TITUS

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