Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Timon. Must thou needes
Timon. Stand for a Villaine in thine owne Worke?
Timon. Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men?
Timon. Do so, I haue Gold for thee.
Poet. Poet.
Poet. Nay let's seeke him.
Poet. Then do we sinne against our owne estate,
Poet. When we may profit meete, and come too late.
Painter. Painter.
Painter. True:
Painter. When the day serues before blacke‑corner'd night;
Painter. Finde what thou want'st, by free and offer'd light.
Painter. Come.
Tim. Tim.
Tim. Ile meete you at the turne:
Tim. What a Gods Gold, that he is worshipt
Tim. In a baser Temple, then where Swine feede?
Tim. 'Tis thou that rig'st the Barke, and plow'st the Fome,
Tim. Setlest admired reuerence in a Slaue,
Tim. To thee be worshipt, and thy Saints for aye: