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.]



Scene II. Before the walls of Athens.