Many a bounteous year, must be employ'd And this is all a liberal course allows; Who cannot keep his wealth, muft keep his house. [Exit. SCENE changes to Timon's Hall. Enter Varro, Titus, Hortenfius, Lucius, and other Servants of Timon's Creditors, who wait for his coming out. Var. WEI Ell met, good-morrow, Titus and Hortenfius.. Tit. The like to you, kind Varro. Hor. Lucius, why do we meet together? Luc. I think, one bufinefs does command us all. For mine is money. Tit. So is theirs and ours. Enter Philotas. Luc. And, Sir, Philotas's too. Phi, Good day, at once. Luc. Welcome, good brother. What d'you think the hour? Phi. I wonder: he was wont to shine at feven. Luc. Ay, but the days are waxed fhorter with him: You must confider that a prodigal's courfe Is like the fun's, but not like his recoverable, I fear: 'Tis deepeft winter in Lord Timon's purse; That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet Find little. Phi. I am of your fear for that. Tit. I'll fhew you how t' observe a strange event: Your Lord fends now for money. Hor. True, he does. Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, For which I wait for money. Hor. Against my heart. Luc. How ftrange it shows, 1 Timon in this fhould pay more than he owes! Hor. I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: Var. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? Var. 'Tis too much deep, and it should seem by th' fum, Enter Flaminius. Tit. One of Lord Timon's men. Luc. Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my Lord Flam. No, indeed, he is not. Tit. We attend his Lordship; pray, fignify fo much. Flam. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent. Enter Flavius in a cloak, muffled. Luc. Ha! is not that his fteward muffled fo? Var. By your leave, Sir. Fla. What do you ask of me, my friend? Why then preferr'd you not your fums and bills, Believe't, my Lord and I have made an end, Fla. If 'twill not ferve, 'tis not fo bafe as you; For * [Exit. For ferve knaves. you Var. How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter? Tit. No matter, what, he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no houfe to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings. Enter Servilius. Tit. Oh, here's Servilius; now we shall have some answer. Ser. If I might befeech you, gentlemen, to repair fome other hour, I fhould derive much from it. For take it of my foul, My Lord leans wond'roufly to difcontent: His comfortable temper has forfook him, He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber. Methinks, he should the fooner pay his debts, Ser. Good gods! Tit. We cannot take this for an answer. Flam. [within.] Servilius, help-my Lord! my Lord. Enter Timon, in a rage. Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd againft my paffage? Have I been ever free, and muft my houfe Be my retentive enemy, my goal? The place, which I have feafted, does it now, Like all mankind, fhew me an iron heart? Luc. Put in now, Titus. Tit. My Lord, here's my bill.. Luc. Here's mine. Var. And mine, my Lord. Cap. And ours, my Lord! Phi. And our bills. Tim. Knock me down with 'em--cleave me to the girdle. Luc. Alas, my Lord. Tim. Cut out my heart in fums. Tit. Mine, fifty talents. Tim. Tell out my blood. Luc. Luc. Five thousand crowns, my Lord. Tim. Five thousand drops pay that. What yours and yours? Var. My Lord Cap. My Lord Tim. Here tear me, take me, and the gods fall on you. [Exit. Hor. Faith, I perceive, our mafters may throw their caps at their money; thefe debts may be well call'd desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. Re-enter Timon and Flavius. [Exeunt. Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the flaves. Creditors!-devils. Flav. My dear Lord, Tim. What if it fhould be fo? Flav. My dear Lord, Tim. Fll have it fo-My fteward! Flav. Here, my Lord. Tim. So fitly!-Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius. All. I'll once more feaft the rafcals. Flav. O my Lord! You only fpeak from your distracted foul; Tim. Be it not thy care: Go, and invite them all, let in the tide Of knaves once more: my cook and I'll provide. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Senate-boufe. I Sen. M2 Senators, and Alcibiades. Y Lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's 'Tis neceffary he should die: Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy. [bloody; 2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruise 'em. Alc. Health, honour, and compaffion to the fenate! 1 Sen. Now, captain. Alc. Alc. I am an humble fuitor to your virtues : Of virtuous honour, which buys out his fault; And with fuch fober and unnoted paffion 1 Sen. You undergo too ftrict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd Is valour mif-begot, and came into the world The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs To bring it into danger. If wrongs be evils, and inforce us kill, Alc. My Lord, 1 Sen. You cannot make grofs fins look clear, It is not valour to revenge, but bear. Alc. My Lords, then, under favour, pardon me, If I fpeak like a captain. Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, Abroad? |