once, and now so rude!

_Tim_. Now who is this with the bald crown? Why, it is Philiades; if
there is a loathsome flatterer, it is he. When I sang that song that
nobody else would applaud, he lauded me to the skies, and swore no
dying swan could be more tuneful; his reward was one of my farms, and
a 500 pounds portion for his daughter. And then when he found I was
ill, and had come to him for assistance, his generous aid took the
form of blows.

_Phil_. You shameless creatures! yes, yes, _now_ you know Timon's
merits! _now_ Gnathonides would be his friend and boon-companion!
well, he has the right reward of ingratitude. Some of us were his
familiars and playmates and neighbours; but _we_ hold back a little;
we would not seem to thrust ourselves upon him. Greeting, lord Timon;
pray let me warn you against these abominable flatterers; they are
your humble servants during meal-times, and else about as useful as
carrion crows. Perfidy is the order of the day; everywhere ingratitude
and vileness. I was just bringing a couple of hundred pounds, for your
immediate necessities, and was nearly here before I heard of your
splendid fortune. So I just came on to give you this word of caution;
though indeed you are wise enough (I would take your advice before
Nestor's myself) to need none of my counsel.

_Tim_. Quite so, Philiades. But come near, will you not, and receive
my--spade!

_Phil_. Help, help! this thankless brute has broken my head, for
giving him good counsel.