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The Life of Timon of Athens
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Come.
TIMON
[Aside.] 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!
'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 meet them.
[Advancing from his cave.]
POET
Hail, worthy Timon!
PAINTER
Our late noble master!
TIMON
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 am rapt, and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any size of words.
TIMON
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.
PAINTER
He and myself
Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.
TIMON
Ay, you are honest men.
PAINTER
We are hither come to offer you our service.
TIMON
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.
TIMON
Ye're honest men! Ye've heard that I have gold;
I am sure you have. Speak truth; ye're honest men.
PAINTER
So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
Came not my friend nor I.
TIMON
Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens. Thou'rt, indeed, the best;
Thou counterfeit'st most lively.
PAINTER
So, so, my lord.
TIMON
E'en so, sir, as I say.
[To the POET.]
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,
TIMON
[Aside.] 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!
'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 meet them.
[Advancing from his cave.]
POET
Hail, worthy Timon!
PAINTER
Our late noble master!
TIMON
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 am rapt, and cannot cover
The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
With any size of words.
TIMON
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.
PAINTER
He and myself
Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts,
And sweetly felt it.
TIMON
Ay, you are honest men.
PAINTER
We are hither come to offer you our service.
TIMON
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.
TIMON
Ye're honest men! Ye've heard that I have gold;
I am sure you have. Speak truth; ye're honest men.
PAINTER
So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
Came not my friend nor I.
TIMON
Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens. Thou'rt, indeed, the best;
Thou counterfeit'st most lively.
PAINTER
So, so, my lord.
TIMON
E'en so, sir, as I say.
[To the POET.]
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,
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Классная книга. Очень многое объясняет, что скрытое реально происходит в человеке