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.
Warr'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!