出自
The Tragedy of Timon of Athens
Act IV, Scene 3
Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate, with thy most operant poison! What is here? Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.