Timon, Timon, fierce Lord Timon
iron fist in velvet glove
Have you not learned that friends purchased
are but masquerade of love?
Wounds of warring you’ve masked o’er
on your rise to mighty lord
Human nature still withstanding,
your wealth goes to naught but whores.
Timon’s great need unrequited;
when masks’ slip the truth’s revealed
Seems dinner guests you entertained
you now dine on as your meal.