Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tim. Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay.
Tim. Fit I meet them.
Poet. Poet.
Poet. Haile worthy Timon.
Pain. Pain.
Pain. Our late Noble Master.
Timon. Timon.
Timon. Haue I once liu'd
Timon. To see two honest men?
Poet. Sir:
Poet. Hauing often of your open Bounty tasted,
Poet. Hearing you were retyr'd, your Friends falne off,
Poet. Whose thankelesse Natures (O abhorred Spirits)
Poet. Not all the Whippes of Heauen, are large enough.
Poet. What, to you,
Poet. Whose Starre‑like Noblenesse gaue life and influence
Poet. To their whole being? I am rapt, and cannot couer
Poet. Themonstrous bulke of this Ingratitude
Poet. With any size of words.