courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. 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 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. gold, What a god's That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple, Than where swine feed! "Tis 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 crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey! 'Fit I do meet them. Poet. Hail, worthy Timon! Pain. [Advancing. Our late noble master. Tim. Have I once liv'd to see two honest men? Poet. Sir, Having often of your open bounty tasted, Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall'n off, Whose thankless natures O abhorred spirits! Not all the whips of heaven are large enough What! to you! Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence To their whole being! I'm rapt, and cannot cover The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude 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. He, and myself, Pain. Tim. Ay, you are honest men. Pain. We are hither come to offer you our ser vice. Tim. Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. vice. you ser 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: terfeit 3 Thou draw'st a coun Best in all Athens: thou art, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain. So, so, my lord. And, for thy fic[To the Poet. Tim. Even so, sir, as I say: tion, Why thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth, 3 A portrait was so called. Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish I, You take much pains to mend. Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord. Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave, That mightily deceives you. Do we my lord? Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, 4 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. 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 Painter. Come not near him. - If thou would'st not reside [To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon.— Hence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye slaves: A complete, a finished villain. You have done work for me, there's Hence ! payment: You are an alchymist, make gold of that:- [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 : At all times alike It is our part, and promise to the Athenians, 2 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. Here is his cave. Flav. Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! Look out, and speak to friends: The Athenians, By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: Speak to them, noble Timon. Enter TIMON. Tim. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! - Speak, and be hang'd: For each true word, a blister! and each false Be as a caut'rizing to the root o'the tongue, 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 And send forth us, to make their sorrowed renders, Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; Tim. You witch me in it; Surprize me to the very brink of tears : Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes, And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. 1 Sen. Therefore, so please thee to return with us, And of our Athens (thine, and ours,) to take 5 Confession. |