Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Enter Timon.
¶Tim. Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall
1505That girdles in those Wolues, diue in the earth,
¶And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent,
¶Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles
¶Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
1510Conuert o'th' Instant greene Virginity,
¶Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast
¶Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues,
¶Large-handed Robbers your graue Masters are,
1515And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Masters bed,
¶Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
¶With it, beate out his Braines, Piety, and Feare,
¶Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iustice, Truth,
¶Decline to your confounding contraries.
¶And yet Confusion liue: Plagues incident to men,
1525Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape
¶On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
¶Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt
¶As lamely as their Manners. Lust, and Libertie
¶Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth,
¶And drowne themselues in Riot. Itches, Blaines,
¶So we all th' Athenian bosomes, and their crop
¶Be generall Leprosie: Breath, infect breath,
¶That their Society (as their Friendship) may
1535Be meerely poyson. Nothing Ile beare from thee
¶Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes:
¶Timon will to the Woods, where he shall finde
1540The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all)
¶Th'Athenians both within and out that Wall:
¶And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow
¶To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low.
¶Amen.
Exit.
