SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens

Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers before Athens

  ALCIBIADES. Sound to this coward and lascivious town
    Our terrible approach.

Sound a parley. The SENATORS appear upon the walls

    Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time
    With all licentious measure, making your wills
    The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
    As slept within the shadow of your power,
    Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breath'd
    Our sufferance vainly. Now the time is flush,
    When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong,
    Cries of itself 'No more!' Now breathless wrong
    Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
    And pursy insolence shall break his wind
    With fear and horrid flight.
  FIRST SENATOR. Noble and young,
    When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
    Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear,
    We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
    To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
    Above their quantity.
  SECOND SENATOR. So did we woo
    Transformed Timon to our city's love
    By humble message and by promis'd means.
    We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
    The common stroke of war.
  FIRST SENATOR. These walls of ours
    Were not erected by their hands from whom
    You have receiv'd your griefs; nor are they such
    That these great tow'rs, trophies, and schools, should fall
    For private faults in them.
  SECOND SENATOR. Nor are they living
    Who were the motives that you first went out;
    Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess
    Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
    Into our city with thy banners spread.
    By decimation and a tithed death-
    If thy revenges hunger for that food
    Which nature loathes- take thou the destin'd tenth,
    And by the hazard of the spotted die
    Let die the spotted.
  FIRST SENATOR. All have not offended;
    For those that were, it is not square to take,
    On those that are, revenge: crimes, like lands,
    Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
    Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage;
    Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin
    Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall
    With those that have offended. Like a shepherd
    Approach the fold and cull th' infected forth,
    But kill not all together.
  SECOND SENATOR. What thou wilt,
    Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile
    Than hew to't with thy sword.
  FIRST SENATOR. Set but thy foot
    Against our rampir'd gates and they shall ope,
    So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before
    To say thou't enter friendly.
  SECOND SENATOR. Throw thy glove,
    Or any token of thine honour else,
    That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
    And not as our confusion, all thy powers
    Shall make their harbour in our town till we
    Have seal'd thy full desire.
  ALCIBIADES. Then there's my glove;
    Descend, and open your uncharged ports.
    Those enemies of Timon's and mine own,
    Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof,
    Fall, and no more. And, to atone your fears
    With my more noble meaning, not a man
    Shall pass his quarter or offend the stream
    Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
    But shall be render'd to your public laws
    At heaviest answer.
  BOTH. 'Tis most nobly spoken.
  ALCIBIADES. Descend, and keep your words.
                       [The SENATORS descend and open the gates]

Enter a SOLDIER as a Messenger

  SOLDIER. My noble General, Timon is dead;
    Entomb'd upon the very hem o' th' sea;
    And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
    With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
    Interprets for my poor ignorance.

ALCIBIADES reads the Epitaph

    'Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft;
    Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left!
    Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate.
    Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy
      gait.'
    These well express in thee thy latter spirits.
    Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs,
    Scorn'dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which
    From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit
    Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
    On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
    Is noble Timon, of whose memory
    Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
    And I will use the olive, with my sword;
    Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each
    Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.
    Let our drums strike. Exeunt