Enter the BANDITTI
FIRST BANDIT. 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 nois'd 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' th' 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 stol'n From gen'ral excrement- each thing's a thief. The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Has uncheck'd theft. Love not yourselves; away, Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats; All that you meet are thieves. To Athens go, Break open shops; nothing can you steal But thieves do lose it. Steal not less for this I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.