FIRST BANDIT.
Is not this he?
BANDITTI.
Where?
SECOND BANDIT.
’Tis his description.
THIRD BANDIT.
He; I know him.
BANDITTI.
Save thee, Timon!
TIMON.
Now, thieves?
BANDITTI.
Soldiers, not thieves.
TIMON.
Both too, and women’s sons.
BANDITTI.
We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
TIMON.
Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots,
Within this mile break forth a hundred springs,
The oaks bear mast, the briars scarlet hips,
The bounteous housewife Nature on each bush
Lays her full mess before you. Want? Why want?