Shakespeare's First Folio Part 533

Sounds a Parly.

The Senators appeare vpon the wals.

Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time With all Licentious measure, making your willes The scope of Iustice. Till now, my selfe and such As slept within the shadow of your power Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush, When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong Cries (of it selfe) no more: Now breathlesse wrong, Shall sit and pant in your great Chaires of ease, And pursie Insolence shall breake his winde With feare and horrid flight

1.Sen. n.o.ble, and young; When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit, Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause of feare, We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme, To wipe out our Ingrat.i.tude, with Loues Aboue their quant.i.tie

2 So did we wooe Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue By humble Message, and by promist meanes: We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue The common stroke of warre

1 These walles of ours, Were not erected by their hands, from whom You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such, That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools shold fall For priuate faults in them

2 Nor are they liuing Who were the motiues that you first went out, (Shame that they wanted, cunning in excesse) Hath broke their hearts. March, n.o.ble Lord, Into our City with thy Banners spred, By decimation and a tythed death; If thy Reuenges hunger for that Food Which Nature loathes, take thou the destin'd tenth, And by the hazard of the spotted dye, Let dye the spotted

1 All haue not offended: For those that were, it is not square to take On those that are, Reuenge: Crimes, like Lands Are not inherited, then deere Countryman, Bring in thy rankes, but leaue without thy rage, Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin Which in the bl.u.s.ter of thy wrath must fall With those that haue offended, like a Shepheard, Approach the Fold, and cull th' infected forth, But kill not altogether

2 What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt inforce it with thy smile, Then hew too't, with thy Sword

1 Set but thy foot Against our rampyr'd gates, and they shall ope: So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, To say thou't enter Friendly

2 Throw thy Gloue, Or any Token of thine Honour else, That thou wilt vse the warres as thy redresse, And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers Shall make their harbour in our Towne, till wee Haue seal'd thy full desire

Alc. Then there's my Gloue, Defend and open your vncharged Ports, Those Enemies of Timons, and mine owne Whom you your selues shall set out for reproofe, Fall and no more; and to attone your feares With my more n.o.ble meaning, not a man Shall pa.s.se his quarter, or offend the streame Of Regular Iustice in your Citties bounds, But shall be remedied to your publique Lawes At heauiest answer

Both. 'Tis most n.o.bly spoken

Alc. Descend, and keepe your words.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My n.o.ble Generall, Timon is dead, Entomb'd vpon the very hemme o'th' Sea, And on his Grauestone, this Insculpture which With wax I brought away: whose soft Impression Interprets for my poore ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.

Heere lies a wretched Coa.r.s.e, of wretched Soule bereft, Seek not my name: A Plague consume you, wicked Caitifs left: Heere lye I Timon, who aliue, all liuing men did hate, Pa.s.se by, and curse thy fill, but pa.s.se and stay not here thy gate.

These well expresse in thee thy latter spirits: Though thou abhorrd'st in vs our humane griefes, Scornd'st our Braines flow, and those our droplets, which From n.i.g.g.ard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye On thy low Graue, on faults forgiuen. Dead Is n.o.ble Timon, of whose Memorie Heereafter more. Bring me into your Citie, And I will vse the Oliue, with my Sword: Make war breed peace; make peace stint war, make each Prescribe to other, as each others Leach.

Let our Drummes strike.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

THE ACTORS NAMES.

TYMON of Athens.

Lucius, And Lucullus, two Flattering Lords.

Appemantus, a Churlish Philosopher.

Semp.r.o.nius another flattering Lord.

Alcibiades, an Athenian Captaine.

Poet.

Painter.

Ieweller.

Merchant.

Certaine Theeues.

Flaminius, one of Tymons Seruants.

Seruilius, another.

Caphis.

Varro.

Philo.

t.i.tus.

Lucius.

Hortensis Seuerall Seruants to Vsurers.

Ventigius. one of Tymons false Friends.

Cupid.

Semp.r.o.nius. With diuers other Seruants, And Attendants.

THE LIFE OF TYMON OF ATHENS.

The Tragedie of Julius Caesar

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.

Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home: Is this a Holiday? What, know you not (Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke Vpon a labouring day, without the signe Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?

Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter

Mur. Where is thy Leather Ap.r.o.n, and thy Rule?

What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?

You sir, what Trade are you?

Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am but as you would say, a Cobler

Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly

Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules

Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue, what Trade?

Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet if you be out Sir, I can mend you

Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou sawcy Fellow?

Cob. Why sir, Cobble you

Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou?

Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters; but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes: when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon my handy-worke

Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?

Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?

Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph