Page 3163 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 3163

I had rather be alone.



              ALCIBIADES
                               Why, fare thee well: [100]
               Here is some gold for thee.



              TIMON
               Keep it, I cannot eat it.



              ALCIBIADES
               When I have laid proud Athens on a heap −



              TIMON
               Warr’st thou ’gainst Athens?



              ALCIBIADES
                               Ay, Timon, and have cause.




              TIMON
               The gods confound them all in thy conquest, [105]
               And thee after, when thou hast conquer’d!



              ALCIBIADES
               Why me, Timon?



              TIMON
                               That by killing of villains
               Thou wast born to conquer my country.

               Put up thy gold. Go on. Here’s gold. Go on.
               Be as a planetary plague, when Jove [110]
               Will o’er some high-vic’d city hang his poison
               In the sick air. Let not thy sword skip one.

               Pity not honour’d age for his white beard:
               He is an usurer. Strike me the counterfeit matron:
               It is her habit only that is honest, [115]
               Herself’s a bawd. Let not the virgin’s cheek

               Make soft thy trenchant sword: for those milk-paps,
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