prompt:
Chapter: The woods near the sea-shore. Before TIMON'S cave

Enter TIMON in the woods

  TIMON. O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
    Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
    Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb-
    Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
    Scarce is dividant- touch them with several fortunes:
    The greater scorns the lesser. Not nature,
    To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune
    But by contempt of nature.
    Raise me this beggar and deny't that lord:
    The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
    The beggar native honour.
    It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
    The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
    In purity of manhood stand upright,
    And say 'This man's a flatterer'? If one be,
    So are they all; for every grise of fortune
    Is smooth'd by that below. The learned pate
    Ducks to the golden fool. All's oblique;
    There's nothing level in our cursed natures
    But direct villainy. Therefore be abhorr'd
    All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
    His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains.
    Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots.
                                                       [Digging]
    Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
    With thy most operant poison. What is here?
    Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
    I am no idle votarist. Roots, you clear heavens!
    Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
    Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.
    Ha, you gods! why this? What, this, you gods? Why, this
    Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
    Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads-
    This yellow slave
    Will knit and break religions, bless th' accurs'd,
    Make the hoar leprosy ador'd, place thieves
    And give them title, knee, and approbation,
    With senators on the bench. This is it
    That makes the wappen'd widow wed again-
    She whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
    Would cast the gorge at this embalms and spices
    To th 'April day again. Come, damn'd earth,
    Thou common whore of mankind, that puts odds
    Among the rout of nations, I will make thee
    Do thy right nature.                        [March afar off]
    Ha! a drum? Th'art quick,
    But yet I'll bury thee. Thou't go, strong thief,
    When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
    Nay, stay thou out for earnest.          [Keeping some gold]

          Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike
                  manner; and PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA

  ALCIBIADES. What art thou there? Speak.
  TIMON. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart
    For showing me again the eyes of man!
  ALCIBIADES. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee
    That art thyself a man?
  TIMON. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
    For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
    That I might love thee something.
  ALCIBIADES. I know thee well;
    But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.
  TIMON. I know thee too; and more than that I know thee
    I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
    With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules.
    Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel;
    Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
    Hath in her more destruction than thy sword
    For all her cherubin look.
  PHRYNIA. Thy lips rot off!
  TIMON. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
    To thine own lips again.
  ALCIBIADES. How came the noble Timon to this change?
  TIMON. As the moon does, by wanting light to give.
    But then renew I could not, like the moon;
    There were no suns to borrow of.
  ALCIBIADES. Noble Timon,
    What friendship may I do thee?
  TIMON. None, but to
    Maintain my opinion.
  ALCIBIADES. What is it, Timon?
  TIMON. Promise me friendship, but perform none. If thou wilt
not
    promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art man! If thou dost
    perform, confound thee, for thou art a man!
  ALCIBIADES. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
  TIMON. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperity.
  ALCIBIADES. I see them now; then was a blessed time.
  TIMON. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
  TIMANDRA. Is this th' Athenian minion whom the world
    Voic'd so regardfully?
  TIMON. Art thou Timandra?
  TIMANDRA. Yes.
  TIMON. Be a whore still; they love thee not that use thee.
    Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
    Make use of thy salt hours. Season the slaves
    For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheek'd youth
    To the tub-fast and the diet.
  TIMANDRA. Hang thee, monster!
  ALCIBIADES. Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
    Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
    I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
    The want whereof doth daily make revolt
    In my penurious band. I have heard, and griev'd,
    How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
    Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
    But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them-
  TIMON. I prithee beat thy drum and get thee gone.
  ALCIBIADES. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
  TIMON. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
    I had rather be alone.
  ALCIBIADES. Why, fare thee well;
    Here is some gold for thee.
  TIMON. Keep it: I cannot eat it.
  ALCIBIADES. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap-
  TIMON. War'st thou 'gainst Athens?
  ALCIBIADES. Ay, Timon, and have cause.
  TIMON. The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
    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
    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,
    Herself's a bawd. Let not the virgin's cheek
    Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk paps
    That through the window bars bore at men's eyes
    Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
    But set them down horrible traitors. Spare not the babe
    Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
    Think it a bastard whom the oracle
    Hath doubtfully pronounc'd thy throat shall cut,
    And mince it sans remorse. Swear against abjects;
    Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes,
    Whose proof nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
    Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
    Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers.
    Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
    Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.
  ALCIBIADES. Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou givest
me,
    Not all thy counsel.
  TIMON. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee!
  PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Give us some gold, good Timon.
    Hast thou more?
  TIMON. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
    And to make whores a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
    Your aprons mountant; you are not oathable,
    Although I know you'll swear, terribly swear,
    Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues,
    Th' immortal gods that hear you. Spare your oaths;
    I'll trust to your conditions. Be whores still;
    And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you-
    Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
    Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
    And be no turncoats. Yet may your pains six months
    Be quite contrary! And thatch your poor thin roofs
    With burdens of the dead- some that were hang'd,
    No matter. Wear them, betray with them. Whore still;
    Paint till a horse may mire upon your face.
    A pox of wrinkles!
  PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. Well, more gold. What then?
    Believe't that we'll do anything for gold.
  TIMON. Consumptions sow
    In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
    And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
    That he may never more false title plead,
    Nor sound his quillets shrilly. Hoar the flamen,
    That scolds against the quality of flesh
    And not believes himself. Down with the nose,
    Down with it flat, take the bridge quite away
    Of him that, his particular to foresee,
    Smells from the general weal. Make curl'd-pate ruffians bald,

    And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
    Derive some pain from you. Plague all,
    That your activity may defeat and quell
    The source of all erection. There's more gold.
    Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
    And ditches grave you all!
  PHRYNIA AND TIMANDRA. More counsel with more money, bounteous
    Timon.
  TIMON. More whore, more mischief first; I have given you
earnest.
  ALCIBIADES. Strike up the drum towards Athens. Farewell, Timon;
    If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.
  TIMON. If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.
  ALCIBIADES. I never did thee harm.
  TIMON. Yes, thou spok'st well of me.
  ALCIBIADES. Call'st thou that harm?
  TIMON. Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
    Thy beagles with thee.
  ALCIBIADES. We but offend him. Strike.
                                Drum beats. Exeunt all but TIMON
  TIMON. That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
    Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,         [Digging]
    Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast
    Teems and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
    Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
    Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
    The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
    With all th' abhorred births below crisp heaven
    Whereon Hyperion's quick'ning fire doth shine-
    Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
    From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
    Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
    Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
    Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
    Teem with new monsters whom thy upward face
    Hath to the marbled mansion all above
    Never presented!- O, a root! Dear thanks!-
    Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas,
    Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts
    And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
    That from it all consideration slips-

                        Enter APEMANTUS

    More man? Plague, plague!
  APEMANTUS. I was directed hither. Men report
    Thou dost affect my manners and dost use them.
  TIMON. 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
    Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee!
  APEMANTUS. This is in thee a nature but infected,
    A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
    From change of fortune. Why this spade, this place?
    This slave-like habit and these looks of care?
    Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
    Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
    That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods
    By putting on the cunning of a carper.
    Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
    By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
    And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe
    Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
    And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus;
    Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade welcome,
    To knaves and all approachers. 'Tis most just
    That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again
    Rascals should have't. Do not assume my likeness.
  TIMON. Were I like thee, I'd throw away myself.
  APEMANTUS. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
    A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
    That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
    Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees,
    That have outliv'd the eagle, page thy heels
    And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brook,
    Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste
    To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? Call the creatures
    Whose naked natures live in all the spite
    Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
    To the conflicting elements expos'd,
    Answer mere nature- bid them flatter thee.
    O, thou shalt find-
  TIMON. A fool of thee. Depart.
  APEMANTUS. I love thee better now than e'er I did.
  TIMON. I hate thee worse.
  APEMANTUS. Why?
  TIMON. Thou flatter'st misery.
  APEMANTUS. I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.
  TIMON. Why dost thou seek me out?
  APEMANTUS. To vex thee.
  TIMON. Always a villain's office or a fool's.
    Dost please thyself in't?
  APEMANTUS. Ay.
  TIMON. What, a knave too?
  APEMANTUS. If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
    To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
    Dost it enforcedly. Thou'dst courtier be again
    Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
    Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before.
    The one is filling still, never complete;
    The other, at high wish. Best state, contentless,
    Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
    Worse than the worst, content.
    Thou should'st desire to die, being miserable.
  TIMON. Not by his breath that is more miserable.
    Thou art a slave whom Fortune's tender arm
    With favour never clasp'd, but bred a dog.
    Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
    The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
    To such as may the passive drugs of it
    Freely command, thou wouldst have plung'd thyself
    In general riot, melted down thy youth
    In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
    The icy precepts of respect, but followed
    The sug'red game before thee. But myself,
    Who had the world as my confectionary;
    The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men
    At duty, more than I could frame employment;
    That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
    Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush
    Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare
    For every storm that blows- I to bear this,
    That never knew but better, is some burden.
    Thy nature did commence in sufferance; time
    Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
    They never flatter'd thee. What hast thou given?
    If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
    Must be thy subject; who, in spite, put stuff
    To some she-beggar and compounded thee
    Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone.
    If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
    Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.
  APEMANTUS. Art thou proud yet?
  TIMON. Ay, that I am not thee.
  APEMANTUS. I, that I was
    No prodigal.
  TIMON. I, that I am one now.
    Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
    I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.
    That the whole life of Athens were in this!
    Thus would I eat it.                         [Eating a root]
  APEMANTUS. Here! I will mend thy feast.
                                             [Offering him food]
  TIMON. First mend my company: take away thyself.
  APEMANTUS. So I shall mend mine own by th' lack of thine.
  TIMON. 'Tis not well mended so; it is but botch'd.
    If not, I would it were.
  APEMANTUS. What wouldst thou have to Athens?
  TIMON. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
    Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.
  APEMANTUS. Here is no use for gold.
  TIMON. The best and truest;
    For here it sleeps and does no hired harm.
  APEMANTUS. Where liest a nights, Timon?
  TIMON. Under that's above me.
    Where feed'st thou a days, Apemantus?
  APEMANTUS. Where my stomach. finds meat; or rather, where I eat
it.
  TIMON. Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind!
  APEMANTUS. Where wouldst thou send it?
  TIMON. To sauce thy dishes.
  APEMANTUS. The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
    extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt and thy
    perfume, they mock'd thee for too much curiosity; in thy rags

    thou know'st none, but art despis'd for the contrary. There's
a
    medlar for thee; eat it.
  TIMON. On what I hate I feed not.
  APEMANTUS. Dost hate a medlar?
  TIMON. Ay, though it look like thee.
  APEMANTUS. An th' hadst hated medlars sooner, thou shouldst
have
    loved thyself better now. What man didst thou ever know
unthrift
    that was beloved after his means?
  TIMON. Who, without those means thou talk'st of, didst thou
ever
    know belov'd?
  APEMANTUS. Myself.
  TIMON. I understand thee: thou hadst some means to keep a dog.
  APEMANTUS. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare
to
    thy flatterers?
  TIMON. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves.
What
    wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy
    power?
  APEMANTUS. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.
  TIMON. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men,
and
    remain a beast with the beasts?
  APEMANTUS. Ay, Timon.
  TIMON. A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' attain
to!
    If thou wert the lion, the fox would beguile thee; if thou
wert
    the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the
lion
    would suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accus'd by
the
    ass. If thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee;
and
    still thou liv'dst but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou
wert
    the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou
    shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the
unicorn,
    pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self
the
    conquest of thy fury. Wert thou bear, thou wouldst be kill'd
by
    the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seiz'd by the
    leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion,
and
    the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy
safety
    were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst
thou
    be that were not subject to a beast? And what beast art thou
    already, that seest not thy loss in transformation!
  APEMANTUS. If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
    mightst have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is
    become a forest of beasts.
  TIMON. How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the
    city?
  APEMANTUS. Yonder comes a poet and a painter. The plague of
company
    light upon thee! I will fear to catch it, and give way. When
I
    know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.
  TIMON. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
    welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.
  APEMANTUS. Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
  TIMON. Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
  APEMANTUS. A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.
  TIMON. All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
  APEMANTUS. There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.
  TIMON. If I name thee.
    I'll beat thee- but I should infect my hands.
  APEMANTUS. I would my tongue could rot them off!
  TIMON. Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
    Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
    I swoon to see thee.
  APEMANTUS. Would thou wouldst burst!
  TIMON. Away,
    Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
    A stone by thee.                     [Throws a stone at him]
  APEMANTUS. Beast!
  TIMON. Slave!
  APEMANTUS. Toad!
  TIMON. Rogue, rogue, rogue!
    I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
    But even the mere necessities upon't.
    Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
    Lie where the light foam of the sea may beat
    Thy gravestone daily; make thine epitaph,
    That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
    [Looks at the gold] O thou sweet king-killer, and dear
divorce
    'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
    Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
    Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
    Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
    That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
    That sold'rest close impossibilities,
    And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
    To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
    Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
    Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
    May have the world in empire!
  APEMANTUS. Would 'twere so!
    But not till I am dead. I'll say th' hast gold.
    Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.
  TIMON. Throng'd to?
  APEMANTUS. Ay.
  TIMON. Thy back, I prithee.
  APEMANTUS. Live, and love thy misery!
  TIMON. Long live so, and so die! [Exit APEMANTUS] I am quit.
More
    things like men? Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

                       Enter the BANDITTI

  FIRST BANDIT. Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
    fragment, some slender ort of his remainder. The mere want of
    gold and the falling-from of his friends drove him into this
    melancholy.
  SECOND BANDIT. It is nois'd he hath a mass of treasure.
  THIRD BANDIT. Let us make the assay upon him; if he care not
for't,
    he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how
    shall's get it?
  SECOND BANDIT. True; for he bears it not about him. 'Tis hid.
  FIRST BANDIT. Is not this he?
  BANDITTI. Where?
  SECOND BANDIT. 'Tis his description.
  THIRD BANDIT. He; I know him.
  BANDITTI. Save thee, Timon!
  TIMON. Now, thieves?
  BANDITTI. Soldiers, not thieves.
  TIMON. Both too, and women's sons.
  BANDITTI. We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
  TIMON. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
    Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
    Within this mile break forth a hundred springs;
    The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips;
    The bounteous housewife Nature on each bush
    Lays her full mess before you. Want! Why want?
  FIRST BANDIT. We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
    As beasts and birds and fishes.
  TIMON. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
    You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
    That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
    In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
    In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
    Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' th' grape
    Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
    And so scape hanging. Trust not the physician;
    His antidotes are poison, and he slays
    Moe than you rob. Take wealth and lives together;
    Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
    Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
    The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
    Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
    And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
    The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
    The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief,
    That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n
    From gen'ral excrement- each thing's a thief.
    The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
    Has uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away,
    Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats;
    All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go,
    Break open shops; nothing can you steal
    But thieves do lose it. Steal not less for this
    I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er!
    Amen.
  THIRD BANDIT. Has almost charm'd me from my profession by
    persuading me to it.
  FIRST BANDIT. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus
advises
    us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.
  SECOND BANDIT. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my
    trade.
  FIRST BANDIT. Let us first see peace in Athens. There is no
time so
    miserable but a man may be true.              Exeunt THIEVES

                         Enter FLAVIUS, to TIMON

  FLAVIUS. O you gods!
    Is yond despis'd and ruinous man my lord?
    Full of decay and failing? O monument
    And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
    What an alteration of honour
    Has desp'rate want made!
    What viler thing upon the earth than friends,
    Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
    How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
    When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
    Grant I may ever love, and rather woo
    Those that would mischief me than those that do!
    Has caught me in his eye; I will present
    My honest grief unto him, and as my lord
    Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!
  TIMON. Away! What art thou?
  FLAVIUS. Have you forgot me, sir?
  TIMON. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
    Then, if thou grant'st th'art a man, I have forgot thee.
  FLAVIUS. An honest poor servant of yours.
  TIMON. Then I know thee not.
    I never had honest man about me, I.
    All I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.
  FLAVIUS. The gods are witness,
    Nev'r did poor steward wear a truer grief
    For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.
  TIMON. What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee
    Because thou art a woman and disclaim'st
    Flinty mankind, whose eyes do never give
    But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping.
    Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
  FLAVIUS. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
    T' accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lasts
    To entertain me as your steward still.
  TIMON. Had I a steward
    So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
    It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
    Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
    Was born of woman.
    Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
    You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
    One honest man- mistake me not, but one;
    No more, I pray- and he's a steward.
    How fain would I have hated all mankind!
    And thou redeem'st thyself. But all, save thee,
    I fell with curses.
    Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
    For by oppressing and betraying me
    Thou mightst have sooner got another service;
    For many so arrive at second masters
    Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true,
    For I must ever doubt though ne'er so sure,
    Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
    If not a usuring kindness, and as rich men deal gifts,
    Expecting in return twenty for one?
  FLAVIUS. No, my most worthy master, in whose breast
    Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late!
    You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:
    Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
    That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
    Duty, and zeal, to your unmatched mind,
    Care of your food and living; and believe it,
    My most honour'd lord,
    For any benefit that points to me,
    Either in hope or present, I'd exchange
    For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
    To requite me by making rich yourself.
  TIMON. Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,
    Here, take. The gods, out of my misery,
    Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy,
    But thus condition'd; thou shalt build from men;
    Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
    But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone
    Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs
    What thou deniest to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
    Debts wither 'em to nothing. Be men like blasted woods,
    And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
    And so, farewell and thrive.
  FLAVIUS. O, let me stay
    And comfort you, my master.
  TIMON. If thou hat'st curses,
    Stay not; fly whilst thou art blest and free.
    Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.
                                                Exeunt severally

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Somewhere in the middle of the woods, Timon curses mankind. Timon has nothing left, so he searches for food in the woods. He starts digging and strikes gold. Literally: he finds gold in the ground. But don't think that lucky break is going to put an end to all Timon's curses. He thinks back on the destruction gold can bring and decides to keep it buried. He only keeps a small amount for himself to use for food and supplies. Just then, music starts playing in the distance. It's Alcibiades, with two courtesans, Phrynia and Timandra. Timon recognizes Alcibiades, but he doesn't trust him. He's no better than the rest of the Athenians, he thinks. He utters some offensive things at Alcibiades and curses the courtesans to boot. But when Alcibiades recognizes Timon, he pities him. He says he and his crew only have a small amount of cash, but they're happy to share it with Timon. The motley crew is on the way to attack Athens, and they'd love if Timon joined them. Upon hearing this, Timon gives them some gold. Here's a bunch of wealth, Timon says, but it's loaded with a jumble of curses. Timon wants Phrynia and Timandra to keep doing their job in Athens. Create more mischief, he commands. Lure men in and give them diseases. After Alcibiades and his crew depart for Athens, Timon reflects on what just happened. He's pretty disgusted with mankind in general. All people care about is money. In walks Apemantus, the grumbler. He's full of his usual glass-half-empty comments, but he's interested in Timon. Isn't it fascinating, Apemantus notes, that Timon was once the belle of the ball, and now he hates everyone? He thinks about how cynical Timon has become and decides he quite likes the man now. After all, they're really similar, right? Timon is outright offended. He's not like Apemantus, he says. Apemantus has never been loved, so he hates everyone. Timon, on the other hand, has been flattered up and down but then betrayed by everyone he knows. Timon insists that his distaste for mankind is warranted, but Apemantus's is not. But Apemantus doesn't give up so easily. He thinks Timon would become a rich guy again if he had the choice. He keeps telling Timon they are twinsies and even tries to help him prepare a meal. The curses continue. This time, Timon is firing them away: he asks Apemantus if anyone has ever loved him. Just myself, Apemantus replies. Timon just mocks Apemantus more. When Timon asks Apemantus what should be done with the world, Apemantus says: "Give it to the beasts." Timon thinks that's just about the dumbest idea ever; Athens is already full of beasts, he says. He curses Apemantus some more and then throws stones at him to make him leave. On his way off, Apemantus predicts that Timon will be bombarded with people in want of his newfound gold. Then some bandits arrive. They claim to be soldiers in need of supplies, but Timon calls their bluff. He knows they've heard about his pot of gold. Even though he knows they are lying, he gives them some gold anyway. Anything can happen in the woods, it seems. So when Flavius shows up, we're not really sure how Timon will react. Timon tells Flavius he can't remember anyone from Athens. Yeah, right. Flavius pities his master and tells him he was his honest servant. We sense a quip coming, and we're right, because Timon replies that he never had anyone around who was honest. Cue the waterworks. Flavius cries over Timon's state. He begs him to see that his tears are real and even offers his own money to Timon. Well, it works. Timon says Flavius is the only honest man he's ever known. He starts to rethink his whole philosophy that all men are flesh-eating beasts who prey on each other for fun. Okay, nope, Timon's gonna stick with that philosophy, after all. Then Timon gives Flavius a large portion of gold to repay him for his kindness. Here's the catch: Flavius cannot live with mankind; he has to be apart from them. On top of that, he can never, ever, ever give any charity to anyone, ever. Flavius wants to stay and comfort his master, but Timon sends him away and goes back into his cave alone.


prompt:
Chapter: The woods. Before TIMON's cave

Enter POET and PAINTER

  PAINTER. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he
    abides.
  POET. to be thought of him? Does the rumour hold for true that
he's
    so full of gold?
  PAINTER. Certain. Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra
had
    gold of him. He likewise enrich'd poor straggling soldiers
with
    great quantity. 'Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty
sum.
  POET. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his
friends?
  PAINTER. Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens
again,
    and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis not amiss we
tender
    our loves to him in this suppos'd distress of his; it will
show
    honestly in us, and is very likely to load our purposes with
what
    they travail for, if it be just and true report that goes of
his
    having.
  POET. What have you now to present unto him?
  PAINTER. Nothing at this time but my visitation; only I will
    promise him an excellent piece.
  POET. I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's
coming
    toward him.
  PAINTER. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' th'
time;
    it opens the eyes of expectation. Performance is ever the
duller
    for his act, and but in the plainer and simpler kind of
people
    the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most
    courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will or
    testament which argues a great sickness in his judgment that
    makes it.

                    Enter TIMON from his cave

  TIMON. [Aside] Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so
bad
    as is thyself.
  POET. I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him.
It
    must be a personating of himself; a satire against the
softness
    of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries
that
    follow youth and opulency.
  TIMON. [Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own
    work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so, I
have
    gold for thee.
  POET. Nay, let's seek him;
    Then do we sin against our own estate
    When we may profit meet and come too late.
  PAINTER. True;
    When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
    Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.
    Come.
  TIMON. [Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold,
    That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
    Than where swine feed!
    'Tis thou that rig'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
    Settlest admired reverence in a slave.
    To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
    Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey!
    Fit I meet them.                   [Advancing from his cave]
  POET. Hail, worthy Timon!
  PAINTER. Our late noble master!
  TIMON. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men?
  POET. Sir,
    Having often of your open bounty tasted,
    Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall'n off,
    Whose thankless natures- O abhorred spirits!-
    Not all the whips of heaven are large enough-
    What! to you,
    Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
    To their whole being! I am rapt, and cannot cover
    The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
    With any size of words.
  TIMON. Let it go naked: men may see't the better.
    You that are honest, by being what you are,
    Make them best seen and known.
  PAINTER. He and myself
    Have travail'd in the great show'r of your gifts,
    And sweetly felt it.
  TIMON. Ay, you are honest men.
  PAINTER. We are hither come to offer you our service.
  TIMON. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
    Can you eat roots, and drink cold water- No?
  BOTH. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.
  TIMON. Y'are honest men. Y'have heard that I have gold;
    I am sure you have. Speak truth; y'are honest men.
  PAINTER. So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
    Came not my friend nor I.
  TIMON. Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
    Best in all Athens. Th'art indeed the best;
    Thou counterfeit'st most lively.
  PAINTER. So, so, my lord.
  TIMON. E'en so, sir, as I say. [To To POET] And for thy
fiction,
    Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
    That thou art even natural in thine art.
    But for all this, my honest-natur'd friends,
    I must needs say you have a little fault.
    Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I
    You take much pains to mend.
  BOTH. Beseech your honour
    To make it known to us.
  TIMON. You'll take it ill.
  BOTH. Most thankfully, my lord.
  TIMON. Will you indeed?
  BOTH. Doubt it not, worthy lord.
  TIMON. There's never a one of you but trusts a knave
    That mightily deceives you.
  BOTH. Do we, my lord?
  TIMON. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
    Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
    Keep in your bosom; yet remain assur'd
    That he's a made-up villain.
  PAINTER. I know not such, my lord.
  POET. Nor I.
  TIMON. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,
    Rid me these villains from your companies.
    Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
    Confound them by some course, and come to me,
    I'll give you gold enough.
  BOTH. Name them, my lord; let's know them.
  TIMON. You that way, and you this- but two in company;
    Each man apart, all single and alone,
    Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
    [To the PAINTER] If, where thou art, two villians shall not
be,
    Come not near him. [To the POET] If thou wouldst not reside
    But where one villain is, then him abandon.-
    Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves.
    [To the PAINTER] You have work for me; there's payment;
hence!
    [To the POET] You are an alchemist; make gold of that.-
    Out, rascal dogs!                [Beats and drives them out]

                    Enter FLAVIUS and two SENATORS

  FLAVIUS. It is vain that you would speak with Timon;
    For he is set so only to himself
    That nothing but himself which looks like man
    Is friendly with him.
  FIRST SENATOR. Bring us to his cave.
    It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
    To speak with Timon.
  SECOND SENATOR. At all times alike
    Men are not still the same; 'twas time and griefs
    That fram'd him thus. Time, with his fairer hand,
    Offering the fortunes of his former days,
    The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
    And chance it as it may.
  FLAVIUS. Here is his cave.
    Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
    Look out, and speak to friends. Th' Athenians
    By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee.
    Speak to them, noble Timon.

                   Enter TIMON out of his cave

  TIMON. Thou sun that comforts, burn. Speak and be hang'd!
    For each true word a blister, and each false
    Be as a cauterizing to the root o' th' tongue,
    Consuming it with speaking!
  FIRST SENATOR. Worthy Timon-
  TIMON. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.
  FIRST SENATOR. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
  TIMON. I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
    Could I but catch it for them.
  FIRST SENATOR. O, forget
    What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
    The senators with one consent of love
    Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought
    On special dignities, which vacant lie
    For thy best use and wearing.
  SECOND SENATOR. They confess
    Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross;
    Which now the public body, which doth seldom
    Play the recanter, feeling in itself
    A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
    Of it own fail, restraining aid to Timon,
    And send forth us to make their sorrowed render,
    Together with a recompense more fruitful
    Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
    Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
    As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
    And write in thee the figures of their love,
    Ever to read them thine.
  TIMON. You witch me in it;
    Surprise me to the very brink of tears.
    Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
    And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.
  FIRST SENATOR. Therefore so please thee to return with us,
    And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
    The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
    Allow'd with absolute power, and thy good name
    Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back
    Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
    Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
    His country's peace.
  SECOND SENATOR. And shakes his threat'ning sword
    Against the walls of Athens.
  FIRST SENATOR. Therefore, Timon-
  TIMON. Well, sir, I will. Therefore I will, sir, thus:
    If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
    Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
    That Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens,
    And take our goodly aged men by th' beards,
    Giving our holy virgins to the stain
    Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,
    Then let him know- and tell him Timon speaks it
    In pity of our aged and our youth-
    I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
    And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not,
    While you have throats to answer. For myself,
    There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp
    But I do prize it at my love before
    The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
    To the protection of the prosperous gods,
    As thieves to keepers.
  FLAVIUS. Stay not, all's in vain.
  TIMON. Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
    It will be seen to-morrow. My long sickness
    Of health and living now begins to mend,
    And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
    Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
    And last so long enough!
  FIRST SENATOR. We speak in vain.
  TIMON. But yet I love my country, and am not
    One that rejoices in the common wreck,
    As common bruit doth put it.
  FIRST SENATOR. That's well spoke.
  TIMON. Commend me to my loving countrymen-
  FIRST SENATOR. These words become your lips as they pass
through
    them.
  SECOND SENATOR. And enter in our ears like great triumphers
    In their applauding gates.
  TIMON. Commend me to them,
    And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
    Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
    Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
    That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
    In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them-
    I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.
  FIRST SENATOR. I like this well; he will return again.
  TIMON. I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
    That mine own use invites me to cut down,
    And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends,
    Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
    From high to low throughout, that whoso please
    To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
    Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
    And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
  FLAVIUS. Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.
  TIMON. Come not to me again; but say to Athens
    Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
    Upon the beached verge of the salt flood,
    Who once a day with his embossed froth
    The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come,
    And let my gravestone be your oracle.
    Lips, let sour words go by and language end:
    What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
    Graves only be men's works and death their gain!
    Sun, hide thy beams. Timon hath done his reign.
                                        Exit TIMON into his cave
  FIRST SENATOR. His discontents are unremovably
    Coupled to nature.
  SECOND SENATOR. Our hope in him is dead. Let us return
    And strain what other means is left unto us
    In our dear peril.
  FIRST SENATOR. It requires swift foot.                  Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Word around the water cooler is that Timon still has his wealth and is lying low in the woods. The Poet and Painter have heard it, and they've come to find out if it's true. The Poet and Painter haven't brought any paintings or poems to present to Timon, though: that would be silly. They're just going to promise those pieces of artwork to him and take his money. Overhearing this, Timon delivers a killer aside to the audience. The men "canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself." Translation: you're evil and nasty, and you're not getting a penny outta me. Timon lets us in on the plan: he'll pretend to bump into the Poet and Painter accidentally and play them. When Timon greets his visitors face-to-face, he pretends to be glad to see them. There's some more sucking up before Timon asks the men if they're willing to eat roots and drink cold water. The Poet and Painter say they're ready. They promise to do anything. Timon doesn't buy it. He gets angry at their hypocrisy and beats them off the stage. It looks like everyone's heard the news about Timon living in the woods because soon after that, Flavius comes back with two Senators in tow. The Senators want to take Timon back to Athens and give him some help. After all, people were really ungrateful to Timon for all he gave them before. Plus, it would really help them out: Alcibiades is on the verge of destroying Athens, and they're sure Timon's presence would change all that. Timon doesn't really care if Alcibiades kills his countrymen or not--it's not like they've been nice to him or anything. Besides, Timon's really busy right now. He's writing his epitaph because it's most likely he'll die soon. Gee, what a nice way of putting it. He seems to throw the Senators a bone when he says, "But you know, I do still love my country." He says he can help the men of Athens avoid Alcibiades' wrath. All they have to do to stop the affliction is...hang themselves. Psych! The Senators give up and leave. Timon tells them not to let the cave door hit them on the way out.


prompt:
Chapter: Before the walls of Athens

Enter two other SENATORS with a MESSENGER

  FIRST SENATOR. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files
    As full as thy report?
  MESSENGER. I have spoke the least.
    Besides, his expedition promises
    Present approach.
  SECOND SENATOR. We stand much hazard if they bring not Timon.
  MESSENGER. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend,
    Whom, though in general part we were oppos'd,
    Yet our old love had a particular force,
    And made us speak like friends. This man was riding
    From Alcibiades to Timon's cave
    With letters of entreaty, which imported
    His fellowship i' th' cause against your city,
    In part for his sake mov'd.

               Enter the other SENATORS, from TIMON

  FIRST SENATOR. Here come our brothers.
  THIRD SENATOR. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
    The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring
    Doth choke the air with dust. In, and prepare.
    Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare.         Exeunt

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Two more Senators stand around chitchatting about what will become of Athens. They want to know if Alcibiades's army is as strong as they think it is. And what's the deal with Timon? Did he accept the other Senators' offer to return to the city? A messenger enters with some news. Apparently Alcibiades is requesting Timon's assistance. Uh-oh. Then the other Senators arrive and confirm that Timon doesn't plan to help them. He just plans to stay in his cave.


prompt:
Chapter: The TIMON's cave, and a rude tomb seen

Enter a SOLDIER in the woods, seeking TIMON

  SOLDIER. By all description this should be the place.
    Who's here? Speak, ho! No answer? What is this?
    Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span.
    Some beast rear'd this; here does not live a man.
    Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb
    I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax.
    Our captain hath in every figure skill,
    An ag'd interpreter, though young in days;
    Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
    Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.                 Exit

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: A solider is searching for Timon in the woods and is having no luck. He knows he got the address right: over the valley and through the woods, right? Or was that to grandmother's house? Then the soldier comes across a fresh tomb with an inscription telling everyone that Timon is dead. The thing is, the solider can't read it. So he copies down the inscription in wax to take to Alcibiades to read.


prompt:
Chapter: 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

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Alcibiades arrives at the city gates, trumpets blaring. He tells the Senators to surrender to him. In order to do so, they have to give him all his and Timon's enemies; atone for their sins ; and obey the new laws of justice. The Senators all agree to Alcibiades's conditions; he's got them surrounded, and they don't really have a choice. In the midst of this victory, a soldier enters. He gives Alcibiades the waxed inscription from the tomb. Alcibiades reads the epitaph aloud so everyone can hear. It says that Timon hated all men and cursed them. Anyone who seeks him out will be plagued. How touching. Alcibiades gets the last word. He reflects on Timon's death by saying they'll remember what happened to noble Timon. With that, the drums sound, and Alcibiades is victorious.