Performance is a kind of will, or testament, Which argues a great sickness in his judgment 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; 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 seek him: Then do we sin against our own estate, When we may profit meet, and come too late. When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, Tim. I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold, That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple, Than where swine feed! "T is thou that rigg'st the bark, and plough'st the foam; Settlest admired reverence in a slave: To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey! 'Fit I meet them. Poet. Hail, worthy Timon! Pain. [Advancing. Our late noble master. Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men? Having often of your open bounty tasted, Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall'n off, Not all the whips of heaven are large enough- 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. Tim. Ay, you are honest men. Pain. We are hither come to offer you our service. Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? 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 're 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, [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 : Marry, 't is not monstrous in you; neither wish I You take much pains to mend. Both. To make it known to us. Beseech your honour, Tim. You'll take it ill. Will you, indeed? Both. Most thankfully, my lord. Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord. Tim. There's never 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: Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught, Confound them by some course, and come to me, I'll give you gold enough. Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in company : 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 Pain. Come not near him.-If thou wouldst not reside [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon.- slaves: You have work for me, there 's payment: Hence! Out, rascal dogs! [Exit, beating and driving them out. SCENE II.-The same. Enter FLAVIUS and Two Senators. Flav. It is 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, 2 Sen. At all times alike Men are not still the same: "T was time, and griefs, The former man may make him: Bring us to him, 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 Timon,Tim. 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, For thy best use and wearing. 2 Sen. They confess, Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; Ever to read them thine. Tim. You witch me in it; Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes, 1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return with us, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up 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, And take our goodly aged men by the beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war; Then, let him know,-and tell him, Timon speaks it, In pity of our aged, and our youth, I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, |