Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forc'd out!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit
TIMON. You do yourselves much wrong;
You bate too much of your own merits.
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
SECOND LORD. With more than common thanks I will receive it.
THIRD LORD. O, he's the very soul of bounty!
TIMON. And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the
other
day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis yours because you lik'd
it.
THIRD LORD. O, I beseech you pardon me, my lord, in that.
TIMON. You may take my word, my lord: I know no man
Can justly praise but what he does affect.
I weigh my friend's affection with mine own.
I'll tell you true; I'll call to you.
ALL LORDS. O, none so welcome!
TIMON. I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart 'tis not enough to give;
Methinks I could deal kingdoms to my friends
And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich.
It comes in charity to thee; for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.
ALCIBIADES.
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