Page 3155 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

ACT IV IT

Scene I IT

Enter Timon.

TIMON
Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall
That girdles in those wolves, dive in the earth
And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!

Obedience fail in children! Slaves and fools,
Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, [5]
And minister in their steads! To general filths
Convert, o’ th’ instant, green virginity!
Do ’t in your parents’ eyes! Bankrupts, hold fast;

Rather than render back, out with your knives,
And cut your trusters’ throats! Bound servants, steal! [10]
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,

And pill by law. Maid, to thy master’s bed;
Thy mistress is o’th’ brothel! Son of sixteen,
Pluck the lin’d crutch from thy old limping sire;
With it beat out his brains! Piety and fear, [15]
Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,

Domestic awe, night-rest and neighbourhood,
Instruction, manners, mysteries and trades,
Degrees, observances, customs and laws,

Decline to your confounding contraries; [20]
And yet confusion live! Plagues incident to men,
Your potent and infectious fevers heap
On Athens ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,
Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt

As lamely as their manners! Lust and liberty [25]
Creep in the minds and marrows of your youth,
That ’gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,