Page 3162 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 3162
Is this th’Atenian minion whom the world
Voic’d so regardfully?
TIMON
Art thou Timandra?
TIMANDRA
Yes.
TIMON
Be a whore still. They love thee not that use thee.
Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. [85]
Make use of thy salt hours; season the slaves
For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheek’d youth
To the tub-fast and the diet.
TIMANDRA
Hang thee, monster!
ALCIBIADES
Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown’d and lost in his calamities. [90]
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my penurious band. I have heard and griev’d
How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, [95]
But for thy sword and fortune, trop upon them −
TIMON
I prithee beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
ALCIBIADES
I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
TIMON
How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
