Lips, let four words go by, and Language end:
What is amifs, Plague and Infection mend.
Graves only be Mens Works, and Death their Gain,
Sun, hide thy Beams, Timon hath done his Reign.

[Exit Timon. 1 Sen. His Discontents are unremoveably coupled to Nature.

2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead; let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dead peril.

1 Sen. It requires fwift foot..

[Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger. 1 Sen. Thou haft painfully discover'd; are his Files As full as they report?

Mef. I have fpoke the leaft.

Befides, his Expedition promifes prefent approach.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.
Mef. I met a Courier, one mine ancient Friend,
Whom though in general part we were oppos'd,
Yet our old love made a particular force,

And made us fpeak like Friends. This Man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timen's Cave,

With Letters of Intreaty, which imported

His Fellowship i'th' caufe against your City, part for his fake mov'd.

In

Enter the other Senators, I Sen. Here come our Brothers.

3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect, The Enemics Drum is heard, and fearful fcouring Doth choak the Air with Duft: In, and prepare, Ours is the Fall I fear, our Foes the Snare.

Exeunt.

Enter a Soldier in the Woods, Seeking Timon.
Sol. By all Defcription this should be the Place.
Who's here? Speak ho. No anfwer?What is this?
Timon is dead, who hath out-ftretcht his Span,
Some Beast read this; there does not live a Man.
Dead fure, 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 aged Interpreter, tho' young in Days:

Before

Before proud Athens he's fet down by this,
Whofe Fall the mark of his Ambitition is.

[Exit.

SCENE II. The Walls of Athens.

Trumpets found. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers. Alc. Sound to this coward and lafcivious Town, Our terrible approach.

[Sound a Parley. The Senators appear upon the Walls. 'Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time With all licentious Measure, making your Wills The scope of Juftice. Till now my self, and such As flept within the fhadow of your Power, Have wander'd with our traverst Arms, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flufh, When crouching Marrow in the bearer ftrong Cries, of it felf, no more: Now breathlefs wrong, Shall fit and pant in your great Chairs of cafe, And purfy Infolence fhall break his Wind With fear and horrid flight.

I Sen. Noble and young;

When thy firft Griefs were but a meer Conceit,
E'er thou hadft Power, or we had caufe 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 Meffage, and by promis'd Means:
We were not all unkind, nor all deferve
The common ftroke of War.

I Sen. Thefe Walls of ours

Were not erected by their Hands, from whom
You have receiv'd your Grief: Nor are they fuch

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 firft went out,

Shame, that they wanted Cunning in excess,
Hath broke their Hearts. March, Noble Lord,

Into our City with thy Banners fpread,
By Decimation and a tithed Death;
If thy Revenges hunger for that Food
Which Nature loaths, take thou the deftin'd tenth,
And by the hazard of the spotted die,
Let die the fpotted.

I Sen. All have not offended:

For those that were, it is not fquare to take,
On those that are, Revenge: Crimes, like Lands,
Are not inherited. Then dear Countryman,
Bring in thy Ranks, but leave without thy Rage,
Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and thofe Kin

With thofe that have offended, like a Shepherd,
Approach the Fold, and cull th' Infected forth, ar
But kill not all together.

2 Sen. What thou wilt,

Thou rather halt enforce it with thy Smile,
Then hew to't with thy Sword.

I Sen. Set but thy Foot

'Against our rampir'd Gates, and they shall ope:
So thou wilt fend thy gentle Heart before,
To fay thou❜lt enter friendly.

2 Sen. Throw thy Glove,

Or any token of thine Honour elfe,

That thou wilt ufe the Wars as thy Redress,
And not as our Confufion: All thy Powers
Shall make their harbour in our Town, 'till we
Have feal'd thy full defire.

Alc. Then there's my Glove,

Defcend, and open your uncharged Ports,
Those Enemies of Timon's, and mine own,
Whom you your felves fhall fet out for Reproof,
Fall and no more; and to atone your Fears
With my more noble Meaning, not a Man
Shall pafs his quarter, or offend the Stream
Of regular Juftice in your City's bounds,
But fhall be remedied by your publick Laws
At heavieft answer.

Both. 'Tis moft robly spoken.

Alc. Defcend, and keep your Words.

Enter

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. My noble General, Timon is dead,
Entomb'd upon the very hem o'th' Sea,

And on his Gravestone, this Infculpture, which
With Wax I brought away; whofe foft Impreffion
Interprets for my poor Ignorance.

[Alcibiades reads the Epitaph.]

Here lyes a wretched Coarse, of wretched Soul bereft,
Seek not my Name: A Plague confume you Caitiffs left.
Here lye I Timon, who all living Men did hate,
Pafs by, and curfe thy fill, but ftay not here thy Gate.

These well exprefs in thee thy latter Spirits:

Tho' thou abhorred'ft in us our human Griefs,
Scorn'dft our Brains 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 whofe Memory

Hereafter more. Bring me into your City,
And I will use the Olive with my Sword;

Make War breed Peace; make Peace ftint War, make each
Prescribe to other, as each other's Leach.

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