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So true, so just; and now so comfortable ?
Flav. No, my most worthy master; in whose breast
Tim. Look thee, 't is so.—Thou singly honest man, Here, take the gods out of my misery (Giving gold.' Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich, and happy ; But thus condition’d :-thou shalt build from men; Hate all, curse all; show charity to none, But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, Ere thou relieve the beggar : give to dogs What thou deny'st to men ; let prisons swallow 'em, Debts wither 'em to nothing. Be men like blasted woods, And may diseases lick up their false bloods ! And so, farewell, and thrive.
1 Not in f. e.
O! let me stay,
If thou hat'st
[Exit Flavius; and Timon into his Cave.'
SCENE 1.-The Same. Before TIMON'S Cave.
Enter Poet and Painter. Pain. As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where he abides.
Poet. What's to be thought of him ? Does the rumour hold for true, that he is so full of gold ?
Pain. Certain : Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him : he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. T is said, he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.
Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.
Pain. Nothing else ; you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore, 't is not amiss we tender our loves to him in this supposed distress of his : it will show honestly in us, and is very likely to load our pursesa with what wes travail for, if it be a just and true report that goes of his having
Poet. What have you now to present unto him ?
Pain. Nothing at this time but my visitation ; only, I will promise him an excellent piece.
Poet. I must serve him so too; tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.
Pain. Good as the best. Promising is the very air o the time : it opens the eyes of expectation : performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable : performance is a kind of will, or testa
1 Exeunt severally: in f. e. purposes : in f. e. 3 they:in fe.
ment, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.
Enter Timon, behind, from his Cave. Tim. Excellent workman! Thou canst not paint a man so bad as is thyself.
Poet. I am thinking, what I shall say I have provided for him. It must be a personating of himself : a satire against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.
Tim. Must thou needs stand for a villain in thine own work? Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men? Do so; I have gold for thee.
Poet. Nay, let's seck him :
Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god 's gold,
[Advancing. Poet. Hail, worthy Timon ! Pain.
Our late noble master. Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men ?
Tim. Let it go naked, men may see 't the better :
He, and myself,
Ay, you are honest men.
Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? Can you eat roots, and drink cold water ? no.
Both. What can we 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 counterfeit Best in all Athens : thou art, indeed, the best ; Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain.
So, so, my lord. Tim. Even so. sir, as I say. And for thy fiction, 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 : Marry, 't is not monstrous in you; neither wish I, You take much pains to mend. Both.
Beseech your honour,
You'll take it ill.
Will you, indeed ?
Tim. There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, That mightily deceives you. Both.
Do we, my lord ?
Pain. I know none such, my lord.
Both. Name them, my lord; let's know them.
Tim. You that way, and you this ; but two is? com-
[To the Painter. Come not near him.-If thou wouldst not reside
[To the Poet.
[Exit, beating them out. SCENE II.-The Same.
Enter Flavius, and two Senators.
Bring us to his cave:
At all times alike
Here is his cave.-
Worthy Timon,Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. 2 Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
1 in: in f. e. 2 Not in folio. Added by Malone.