Having often of your open bounty tasted, Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence With any size of words. Tim. Let it go naked, men may see't the better: You, that are honest, by being what you are, Make them best seen, and known. Pain. He, and myself, Have travell'd in the great shower of your gifts, And sweetly felt it. Tim. Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. Both. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. Tim. You are honest men: You have heard that I have gold; I am sure you have: speak truth: you are honest men. Pain. So it is said, my noble lord: but therefore Came not my friend, nor I. Tim. Good honest men:-Thou draw'st a coun terfeit Best in all Atheus: thou art, indeed, the best! Pain. So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so, sir, as I say:-And, for thy fiction, [To the Poet. Why thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth, That thou art even natural in thine art.But, for all this, my honest-natur'd friends, I must needs say, you have a little fault: A portrait was so called. Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I, Both. To make it known to us. Tim. Beseech your honour, You'll take it ill. Will you, indeed? Both. Most thankfully, my lord. Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord. Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave, That mightily deceives you. Both. Do we, my lord? Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, Keep in your bosom; yet remain assur'd, That he's a made-up villain*, Pain. I know none such, my lord. Poet. Nor I. Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, Rid me these villains from your companies: Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Each man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. If, where thou art, two villains shall not be, [To the Painter. Come not near him.-If thou would'st not reside [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon. slaves : You have done work for me, there's payment: Hence! A complete, a finished villain. + In a jakes. You are an alchymist, make gold of that: Out, rascal dogs! [Exit, beating and driving them out. SCENE II. The same. Enter Flavius, and two Senators. Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; For he is set so only to himself, That nothing but himself, which looks like man, 1 Sen. Bring us to his cave: It is our part, and promise to the Athenians, At all times alike Sen. Men are not still the same: 'Twas time, and griefs, That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer hand, Offering the fortunes of his former days, The former man may make him: Bring us to him, And chance it as it may. Flav. Here is his cave. Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Enter Timon. Tim. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn!-Speak, and be hang'd: For each true word, a blister! and each false 1 Sen. Worthy TimonTim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. 2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague, Could I but catch it for them. 1 Sen. O, forget What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. The senators, with one consent of love*, Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought For thy best use and wearing. 2 Sen. They confess, Toward thee, forgetfulness too gencral, gross: Which now the publick body,-which doth seldom Play the recauter,-feeling in itself A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal Aud send forth us, to make their sorrowed rendert, Ever to readthe m thine. Tim. You witch me in it; Surprise me to the very brink of tears: Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up With one united voice of affection. + Confession. Licensed, uncontrolled. 2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens. 1 Sen. Therefore, Timon, Tim. Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; Thus, If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair Athens, Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war; I cannot choose but tell him, that-I care not, But I do prize it at my love, before The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; And last so long enough! 1 Sen. We speak in vain. Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck, As common bruit§ doth put it. 1 Sen. * A clasp knife. That's well spoke. ti. e. The gods who are the authors of the prospe rity of mankind. He means the disease of life begins to promise me a period. Report, rumour. |