Enter a Soldier, seeking Timon
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; 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.