I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced 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: it is yours, because you liked it.
Second 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
Ay, defiled land, my lord.
First Lord
We are so virtuously bound–
TIMON
And so
Am I to you.
Second Lord
So infinitely endear'd–