“Off with you!” said Timon; but Apemantus stayed a while longer and told him he had a passion for extremes, which was true. Apemantus even made a pun, but there was no good laughter to be got out of Timon. Finally, they lost their temper like two schoolboys, and Timon said he was sorry to lose the stone which he flung at Apemantus, who left him with an evil wish. This was almost an “at home” day for Timon, for when Apemantus had departed, he was visited by some robbers. They wanted gold. “You want too much,” said Timon. “Here are water, roots and berries.” “We are not birds and pigs,” said a robber. “No, you are cannibals,” said Timon. “Take the gold, then, and may it poison you! Henceforth rob one another.” He spoke so frightfully to them that, though they went away with full pockets, they almost repented of their trade. His last visitor on that day of visits was his good steward Flavius. “My dearest master!” cried he. “Away! What are you?” said Timon. “Have you forgotten me, sir?” asked Flavius, mournfully. “I have forgotten all men,” was the reply; “and if you'll allow that you are a man, I have forgotten you.” “I was your honest servant,” said Flavius. “Nonsense! I never had an honest man about me,” retorted Timon. Flavius began to cry. “What! shedding tears?” said Timon. “Come nearer, then. I will love you because you are a woman, and unlike men, who only weep when they laugh or beg.” They talked awhile; then Timon said, “Yon gold is mine. I will make you rich, Flavius, if you promise me to live by yourself and hate mankind. I will make you very rich if you promise me that you will see the flesh slide off the beggar's bones before you feed him, and let the debtor die in jail before you pay his debt.” Flavius simply said, “Let me stay to comfort you, my master.” “If you dislike cursing, leave me,” replied Timon, and he turned his back on Flavius, who went sadly back to Athens, too much accustomed to obedience to force his services upon his ailing master. The steward had accepted nothing, but a report got about that a mighty nugget of gold had been given him by his former master, and Timon therefore received more visitors. They were a painter and a poet, whom he had patronized in his prosperity. “Hail, worthy Timon!” said the poet. “We heard with astonishment how your friends deserted you. No whip's large enough for their backs!” “We have come,” put in the painter, “to offer our services.” “You've heard that I have gold,” said Timon. “There was a report,” said the painter, blushing; “but my friend and I did not come for that.” “Good honest men!” jeered Timon. “All the same, you shall have plenty of gold if you will rid me of two villains.”