What art thou there? Speak.

Alcibiades
What art thou there? Speak.
Timon
A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart
For showing me again the eyes of man!

This fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.

Alcibiades
What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee
That art thyself a man?
Timon
I am Misanthropos and hate mankind.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.
Alcibiades
I know thee well.
But in thy fortunes am unlearned and strange.
Timon
I know thee too, and more than that I know thee
I not desire to know. Follow thy drum.
With man’s blood paint the ground gules, gules!
Religious canons, civil laws are cruel.
Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
For all her cherubin look.
Phrynia
Thy lips rot off!
Timon
I will not kiss thee. Then the rot returns
To thine own lips again.