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's 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 a 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'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 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-cornered night,
	Find what thou want'st by free and offered light.
	Come.

Timon	[Aside.] I'll meet you at the turn. What a god's gold
	That he is worshipped in a baser temple
	Than where swine feed!
	'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
	Settlest admird reverence in a slave.
	To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye
	Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey!
	[Advancing.] Fit I meet them.

Poet	Hail, worthy Timon!

Painter						Our late noble master!

Timon	Have I once lived to see two honest men?

Poet	Sir,
	Having often of your open bounty tasted,
	Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
	Whose thankless natures - O abhorrd spirits!
	Not all the whips of heaven are large enough-
	What, to you,
	Whose starlike 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 travelled 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?

Poet &
Painter	What we can do we'll do, to do you service.

Timon	Y'are honest men. Y've heard that I have gold?
	I am sure you have - Speak truth; y'are 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. Th'art indeed the best;
	Thou counterfeit'st most lively.

Painter									So, so, my lord.

Timon	E'en so, sir, as I say. 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-natured friends,
	I must needs say you have a little fault.
	Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
	You take much pains to mend.

Poet &
Painter								Beseech your honour
	To make it known to us.

Timon							You'll take it ill.

Poet &
Painter	Most thankfully, my lord.

Timon								Will you indeed?

Poet &
Painter	Doubt it not, worthy lord.

Timon	There's never a one of you but trusts a knave
	That mightily deceives you.

Poet &
Painter									Do we, my lord?

Timon	Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
	Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
	Keep in your bosom; yet remain assured
	That he's a made-up villain.

Painter	I know none such, my lord.

Poet								Nor I.

Timon	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.

Poet &
Painter	Name them, my lord; let's know them.

Timon	You that way and you this, but two in company;
	Each man apart, all single and alone,
	Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
	[To PAINTER.] If where thou art two villains shall not be,
	Come not near him. [To POET.] If thou wouldst not reside
	But where one villain is, then him abandon.
	Hence, pack! There's gold - you came for gold, ye slaves.
	[To POET, throwing stones at him.]
	You have work for me, there's payment. Hence!
	[To PAINTER, throwing stones at him.]
	You are an alchemist, make gold of that!
	Out, rascal dogs!
									   [Exeunt POET and PAINTER.

                      TIMON withdraws into his cave.

                     Enter FLAVIUS and two SENATORS.

Flavius	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
	Is friendly with him.

1st Senator							Bring us to his cave.
	It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
	To speak with Timon.

2nd Senator						At all times alike
	Men are not still the same. 'Twas time and griefs
	That framed 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.

Flavius							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 Senate greet thee.
	Speak to them, noble Timon.

                     Re-enter TIMON, out of his cave.

Timon	Thou sun that comforts, burn! Speak, and be hanged!
	For each true word a blister, and each false
	Be as a cauterizing to the root o'th' tongue,
	Consuming it with speaking!

1st Senator								Worthy Timon-

Timon	Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

1st Senator	The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Timon	I thank them, and would send them back the plague,
	Could I but catch it for them.

1st Senator									O, forget
	What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
	The senators with one consent of love
	Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought
	On special dignities which vacant lie
	For thy best use and wearing.

2nd Senator									They confess
	Toward thee forgetfulness too general gross;
	Which now the public body, which doth seldom
	Play the recanter, feeling in itself
	A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
	Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon,
	And send forth us to make their sorrowed render
	Together with a recompense more fruitful
	Than their offence can weigh down by the dram.
	Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
	As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
	And write in thee the figures of their love,
	Ever to read them thine.

Timon							You witch me in it,
	Surprise 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.

1st Senator	Therefore so please thee to return with us,
	And of our Athens - thine and ours - to take
	The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
	Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name
	Live with authority. So soon we shall drive back
	Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
	Who like a boar too savage doth root up
	His country's peace.

2nd Senator						And shakes his threat'ning sword
	Against the walls of Athens.

1st Senator								Therefore, Timon-

Timon	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 agd men by th' beards,
	Giving our holy virgins to the stain
	Of contumelious, beastly, madbrained war,
	Then let him know - and tell him Timon speaks it
	In pity of our agd and our youth-
	I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
	And - let him take't at worst - for their knives care not
	While you have throats to answer. For myself,
	There's not a whittle in th' unruly camp
	But I do prize it at my love before
	The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
	To the protection of the prosperous gods,
	As thieves to keepers.

Flavius							Stay not; all's in vain.

Timon	Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
	It will be seen tomorrow. My long sickness
	Of health and living now begins to mend,
	And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
	Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
	And last so long enough.

1st Senator							We speak in vain.

Timon	But yet I love my country, and am not
	One that rejoices in the common wrack,
	As common bruit doth put it.

1st Senator								That's well spoke.

Timon	Commend me to my loving countrymen-

1st Senator	These words become your lips as they pass through them.

2nd Senator	And enter in our ears like great triumphers
	In their applauding gates.

Timon								Commend me to them,
	And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
	Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
	Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
	That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
	In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
	I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

1st Senator	I like this well. He will return again.

Timon	I have a tree which grows here in my close
	That mine own use invites me to cut down,
	And shortly must I fell it. Tell my friends,
	Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
	From high to low throughout, that whoso please
	To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
	Come hither ere my tree hath felt the axe,
	And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.

Flavius	Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.

Timon	Come not to me again; but say to Athens
	Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
	Upon the beachd verge of the salt flood,
	Who once a day with his embossd froth
	The turbulent surge shall cover. Thither come,
	And let my gravestone be your oracle.
	Lips, let sour words go by and language end.
	What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
	Graves only be men's works, and death their gain.
	Sun, hide thy beams, Timon hath done his reign.
													[Exit, into his cave.
1st Senator	His discontents are unremovably
	Coupled to nature.

2nd Senator	Our hope in him is dead. Let us return,
	And strain what other means is left unto us
	In our dear peril.

1st Senator						It requires swift foot.
													[Exeunt.
