Page 3163 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

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,