The Life of Timon of Athens

I fell with curses.
Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
For, by oppressing and betraying me,
Thou mightst have sooner got another service:
For many so arrive at second masters
Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true, —
For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure, —
Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
If not a usuring kindness and as rich men deal gifts,
Expecting in return, twenty for one?

FLAVIUS

No, my most worthy master, in whose breast
Doubt and suspect, alas! are plac'd too late!
You should have fear'd false times when you did feast;
Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,
Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
My most honour'd lord,
For any benefit that points to me,
Either in hope or present, I'd exchange
For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me by making rich yourself.

TIMON

Look thee, 'tis so! 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, 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.

FLAVIUS

O! let me stay
And comfort you, my master.

TIMON

If thou hatest curses,
Stay not; fly, whilst thou'rt bless'd and free:
Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.

[Exeunt severally.]

Act V

Scene I. The woods. Before TIMON's Cave

[Enter POET and PAINTER.]

PAINTER. 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?

PAINTER. Certain. Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor straggling soldiers with great quantity. 'Tis said he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

POET

Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends?

PAINTER. Nothing else. You shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis 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 purposes with what they travail for, if it be just and true report that goes of his having.

POET

What have you now to present unto him?

PAINTER. 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.

PAINTER. 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 testament which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.

[Enter TIMON from his cave.]

TIMON. [Aside.] 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.

TIMON. [Aside.] 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.

PAINTER

True;
When the day serves, before black – corner'd night,
Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light.