6

(For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure,)
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
S'Anusuring kindness, as rich men deal gifts,
Expecting in return twenty for one ?

Flav. No, my most worthy master, (in whose breast
Doubt and suspect, alas, are plac'd too late,)
You should have feard false times, when you did fealt;
Suspect still comes when an estate is least.
That which I shew, heav'n knows, is meerly love,
Duty, and zeal, to your unmatched mind,
Care of your food and living : and, believe it,
For any benefit that points to me
Either in hope, or present, 'l'd exchange it!
For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me by making rich your self.

Tim. Look thee, 'tis lo; thou singly honest man,
Here, take; the Gods out of my misery
Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy :

,
But thus condition'd; thou shalt build from men:
Hate all, curse all, Thew charity to none,
But let the familh'd flesh Nide from the bone,
Ere thou relieve the beggar. Give to dogs
What thou deny'st to men. Let prisons swallow 'em,
Debts wither 'em ; be men like blasted woods,
And may diseases lick up their false bloods !
And so farewel, and thrive.

Flav. O let me ftay
And comfort you, my master !

Tim. If thou hat'st curses,
Stay not, but fly, whilst thou art bleft and free ;
Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. (Exeunt.

Enter Poet and Painter, Pail. As I took note of the place, it can't be far where he abides.

Poct. 6 I'd exchange

5 A

Poet. What's to be thought of him ? does the rumour hold for true, that he's so full of gold ?

Pain. Certain. Alcibiades reports it : Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him; he likewise enrich'd poor stragling soldiers with great quantity. 'Tis said, he gave his steward a mighty sum.

Poet. Then this breaking of his has been but a tryal 7 of his friends?

Pain. Nothing else : you shall see him a pa!m in Abens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'cis not amiss we tender our loves to him in this suppos’d distress of his: it will shew honestly in us, and is very likely to load our purposes with what they travel 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 muft serve him fo too, tell him of an intent that's coming toward him.

Pain. Good as the best; Promising is the very air o'th' 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 is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable ; performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. Re-enter Timon from his Cave, unseen, but over

bearing bim. Tim. Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a man so bad as thy self.

Poet. I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for him: it must be a personating of himself; a fatyr against the foftness of prosperity with a discovery of the infinite fatteries 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.

Pain.

E 3

8 'Pain.' Nay, let's seek him. Then do we sin against our own estate, When we may profit meet, and come too late.

9 Poet.' True : While the day ferves, before ''black corneted night, Find what thou want’it, by free and offer'd light. Come.

Tim. I'll meet you at the turn -
What a God's gold, that he is worshipped
In baser temples, than where swine do feed?
'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark, and plow'st the foam,
Settleft admired rev'rence in a lave;
To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye
Be crown'd with plagues, that thee alone obey!
'Tis fit I meet them.

Poet. Hail! worthy Timon.
Pain. Our late noble master.
Tim. Have I once liv'd to fee two honelt men?

Poet. Sir, having often of your bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retir'd, your friends fall’n off,
2/For whose most thankless natures (abhorr'd spirits!)
Not all the whips of heav'n are large enough:
3/What! ev'n to you !" Whose star-like nobleness
Gave life and influence to + 'their 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 fee't the better : You that are honest, by being what you are, Make them beft feen and known.

Pain. He, and my self,
Have travell'd in s the shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.

Tim. Ay, you're honest men.
Pain. We're hither come to offer you our service.

Tim. Most honest men! why, how shall I require you? Can you eat roots, and drink cold water ? no.

Boib. What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.

Tim. Y'are honest men ; you've heard that I have gold, I'm sure you have ; speak truth, y’are honest men.

Pain. So it is said, my noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honest man! thou draw'st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens, thou’rt indeed the best,
Thou counterfeit’st most lively.

Pain. So so, my Lord.
Tim. E'en 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, not monstrous in you ; neither wish I
You take much pains to mend.

Both. 'Befeech your honour
To make it known to us.

Tim. You'll take it ill.
Both. Most thankfully, my Lord.
Tim. Will you indeed ?
Both. Doubt it not, worthy Lord.
Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a knave,
That mightily deceives you.

Bolb. Do we, my Lord ?

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cogg, see him difsemble, Know his gross patchery, love him, and feed him, Keep in your bosom; yet remain assur’d That he's a made-up villain.

Pain. I know none fuch, 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,

a

Con

E 4

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; 'not'two in company,

6/
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 wouldīt not reside

[To the Poet. But where one villain is, then him abandon. Hence, pack, there's gold, ye came for gold, ye Naves; You have work'd for me, there's your payment, hence! You are an alchymist, make gold of that: Out, rascal dogs! [Exit beating and driving 'em out.

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 Is friendly with him.

i Sen. Bring us to his cave.
It is our part and promise to th’ Albenians
To speak with Timon.

2 Sen. At all times alike
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 !
Look out, and speak to friends: th’ Athenians
By two of their most reverend fenate greet thee ;
Speak to them, noble Timon.

Entea