What have you now to present unto him?

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.

Then do we sin against our own estate
When we may profit meet and come too late.

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.
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 worshiped in a baser temple
Than where swine feed!
’Tis thou that rigg’st the bark and plow’st the foam,
Settlest admirèd reverence in a slave.
To thee be worship, and thy saints for aye
Be crowned with plagues, that thee alone obey!
Fit I meet them.
 He comes forward.
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, abhorrèd 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 travailed 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
You’re honest men. You’ve heard that I have gold.
I am sure you have. Speak truth. You’re honest men.
Painter
So it is said, my noble lord, but therefor
Came not my friend nor I.
Timon
Good honest men.