Enter Varro, Titus, Hortenfius, Lucius, and other Servants of Timon's creditors, who wait for his coming out. Var. WELL met, good-morrow, Titus and Hor 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 Philo. Luc. And Sir Philo's too. Phi. Good-day, at once. Luc. Welcome, good brother. What d'you think the hour? Phi. Labouring for nine. Luc. So much? Phi. Is not my lord feen yet? Luc. Not yet. Phi. I wonder: he was wont to shine at seven. You must confider that a Prodigal's course Is like the fun's, but not like his recoverable, I fear: 'Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse; That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet 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, Timon in this fhould pay more than he owes! Hor. I'm weary of this charge, the Gods can witnefs: I know, my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth: Ingratitude now makes it worse than ftealth. Var. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? Luc. Five thousand, Var. 'Tis too much deep; and, it shall feem by th' furn, Your master's confidence was above mine: Elfe, furely, his had equall'd. Enter Flaminius. Tit. One of lord Timon's men. Luc. Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord Ready to come forth? Flam. No, indeed, he is notro Tit. We attend his lordship; pray, fignify so 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 Steward muffled fo? He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. Tit. Do you hear, Sir Var. By your leave, Sir. Flav. What do you ask of me, my friend? Flav. If money were as certain as your waiting, 'Twere fure enough. Why then preferr'd you not your fums and bills, You You do yourselves but wrong to ftir me up, Believe't, my lord and I have made an end; Flav. If 'twill not ferve, 'tis not fo base as you; [Exit. Var. How! what does his cafhier'd worship mutter? Tit. No matter, what-he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can fpeak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against great Buildings. Enter Servilius. Tit. Oh, here's Servilius; now we shall have fome 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 wondrously to discontent: His comfortable temper has forfook him, He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber Ser. Good Gods! Tit. We cannot take this for an answer. Tim. SCENE V. Enter Timon in a rage. WHAT, are my doors oppos'd against my paffage? Have I been ever free, and muft my house H 4 The The place, which I have feasted, does it now, Luc. Put in now, Titus. Tit. My lord, here's my Luc. Here's mine. 1 bill. ·Tim. Knock me down with 'em-cleave me to the girdle. Lue. Alas! my lord. Tim. Cut out my heart in fums. Tit. Mine, fifty talents. Tim. Tell out my blood. 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 defperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em. Re-enter Timon and Flavius. [Exeunt. Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the Tim. I'll have it foMy steward! Flav. Here, my lord. Tim. So fitly!-Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius. I'll once more feaft the rafcals. Flau. O my lord! All. You You only speak from your distracted soul; 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. SCENE VI. [Exeunt. 1 Sen. Changes to the Senate-House Senators and Alcibiades. MY Y lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's bloody; 'Tis neceffary he should die : Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy. 2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruife 'em. Alc. Health, Honour, and Compaffion to the fenate! 1 Sen. Now, Captain. your Virtues : Alc. I am an humble fuitor to 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: H 5 Your |