Enter a SOLDIER in the woods, seeking TIMONSOLDIER. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? Speak, ho! No answer? What is this? Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span. Some beast rear'd this; here 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 ag'd interpreter, though young in days; Before proud Athens he's set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. Exit
