Thou draw’st a counterfeit Best in all Athens

Timon, to the Painter.
Thou draw’st a counterfeit
Best in all Athens. Thou ’rt indeed the best.
Thou counterfeit’st most lively.
Painter
So-so, my lord.

And for thy fiction,
Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
That thou art even natural in thine art.

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-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.
Both
Beseech your Honor
To make it known to us.
Timon
You’ll take it ill.
Both
Most thankfully, my lord.
Timon
Will you indeed?
Both
Doubt it not, worthy lord.
Timon
There’s never a one of you but trusts a knave
That mightily deceives you.
Both
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 draft,
Confound them by some course, and come to me,
I’ll give you gold enough.
Both
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 archvillain keeps him company.
(To one.) If where thou art, two villains shall not be,
Come not near him. (To the other.) If thou wouldst not reside
But where one villain is, then him abandon.—
Hence, pack. There’s gold. You came for gold, you slaves.
(To one.) You have work for me. There’s payment.
Hence.
(To the other.) You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
Out, rascal dogs!
 Timon drives them out and then exit.