Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Tim. Tim.
Tim. Had I a Steward
Tim. So true, so iust, and now so comfortable?
Tim. It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde.
Tim. Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
Tim. Was borne of woman.
Tim. Forgiue my generall, and exceptlesse rashnesse
Tim. You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime
Tim. One honest man: Mistake me not, but one:
Tim. No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.
Tim. How faine would I haue hated all mankinde,
Tim. And thou redeem'st thy selfe. But all saue thee,
Tim. I fell with Curses.
Tim. Me thinkes thou art more honest now, then wise:
Tim. For, by oppressing and betraying mee,
Tim. Thou
Tim. Timon of Athens.
Tim. Thou might'st haue sooner got another Seruice:
Tim. For many so arriue at second Masters,
Tim. Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,