Tim. Y'are honest men,
Y'haue heard that I haue Gold,
I am sure you haue, speake truth, y'are honest men
Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my Friend, nor I
Timon. Good honest men: Thou draw'st a counterfet
Best in all Athens, th'art indeed the best,
Thou counterfet'st most liuely
Pain. So, so, my Lord
Tim. E'ne so sir as I say. And for thy fiction,
Why thy Verse swels with stuffe so fine and smooth,
That thou art euen Naturall in thine Art.
But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)
I must needs say you haue a little fault,
Marry 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
You take much paines to mend
Both. Beseech your Honour
To make it knowne to vs
Tim. You'l take it ill
Both. Most thankefully, my Lord
Timon. Will you indeed?
Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord
Tim. There's neuer a one of you but trusts a Knaue,
That mightily deceiues you