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?
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