THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS
Page: 44

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 noised 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' the 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
More 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 stolen
From general excrement, each thing's a thief;
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power