Timon of Athens, [4.3.178-190]. Timon. “That nature, being sick of man’s unkindness,/ Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou/ Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast/ Teems and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,/ Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff’d,/ Engenders the black toad and adder blue,/ The gilded newt and eyeless venom’d worm,/ With all th’ abhorred births below crisp heaven/ Whereon Hyperion’s quick’ning fire doth shine:/ Yield him who all thy human sons do hate,/ From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!”


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