My dearest master!
TIMON. Away! What art thou?
FLAVIUS. Have you forgot me, sir?
TIMON. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
Then, if thou grant'st th'art a man, I have forgot thee.
FLAVIUS. An honest poor servant of yours.
TIMON. Then I know thee not.
I never had honest man about me, I.
All I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.
FLAVIUS. The gods are witness,
Nev'r did poor steward wear a truer grief
For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.
TIMON. What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee
Because thou art a woman and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind, whose eyes do never give
But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping.
Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
FLAVIUS. I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
T' accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lasts
To entertain me as your steward still.
TIMON. Had I a steward
So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
Was born of woman.
Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
One honest man- mistake me not, but one;
No more, I pray- and he's a steward.
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