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 outstretched his span.
Some beast read this; there 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 aged interpreter, though young in days.
Before proud Athens he’s set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.
[Exit.]
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg