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
Voiced 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-cheeked youth
To the tub-fast and the diet.
TIMANDRA.
Hang thee, monster!
ALCIBIADES.
Pardon him, sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drowned 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 grieved
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.