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We were not all unkind, nor all deserve |
The common stroke of war. |
FIRST SENATOR. 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. |
SECOND SENATOR. 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, noble lord, |
Into our city with thy banners spread. |
By decimation and a tithed death- |
If thy revenges hunger for that food |
Which nature loathes- take thou the destin'd tenth, |
And by the hazard of the spotted die |
Let die the spotted. |
FIRST SENATOR. All have not offended; |
For those that were, it is not square 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 those kin |
Which, in the bluster 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. |
SECOND SENATOR. What thou wilt, |
Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile |
Than hew to't with thy sword. |
FIRST SENATOR. Set but thy foot |
Against our rampir'd gates and they shall ope, |
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before |
To say thou't enter friendly. |
SECOND SENATOR. 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. |
ALCIBIADES. 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. And, 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 render'd to your public laws |
At heaviest answer. |
BOTH. 'Tis most nobly spoken. |
ALCIBIADES. Descend, and keep your words. |
[The SENATORS descend and open the gates] |
Enter a SOLDIER as a Messenger |
SOLDIER. My noble General, Timon is dead; |
Entomb'd upon the very hem o' th' sea; |
And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which |
With wax I brought away, whose soft impression |
Interprets for my poor ignorance. |
ALCIBIADES reads the Epitaph |
'Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft; |
Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! |
Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate. |
Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy |
gait.' |
These well express in thee thy latter spirits. |
Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, |
Scorn'dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which |
From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit |
Taught thee to make vast 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 leech. |
Let our drums strike. Exeunt |
THE END |
<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM |
SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS |
PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE |
WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE |
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