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That thriv'd, give him over. Must I take th Cure upon me?
H'as niuch disgrac'd me in't; I'am angry at him,
That might have known my Place, I secno sense for’t,
But his Occafions might have wooed me first:
For, in my Corscience, I was the first Man
That e'ér received Gift from him.
And does he think so backwardly of me now,
That I'll requite it last? No:
So it may prove an Argument of Laughter
To th’rest, and 'mongst Lörds I be thought a Fool:
I'd rather than the worth of thrice the Sum,
H’ad sent to me first, but for my Mind's fake:
I'd such a Courage to do him good. But now return;
And with their faint Reply this Answer join;
Who bates mine Honour, shall not know my Coin, [Exit. .

Ser. Excellent! Your Lordship's a goodly Villain. The Devil knew not what he did, when he made Man Politick; he cross'd himself by't; And I cannot think, but in the end the Villanies of Man will fet him clear. How fairly this Lord strives to appear foul? Takes virtuous Copies to be wicked: Like those that under hot, ardent Zeal, would fet whole Realms on Fire; of such a nature is his politick Love. This was my Lord's best hope, now all are fled, Save only the Gods. Now his Friends are dead, Doors that were ne'er acquainted with their Wards, Many a bounteous a Year, must be employ'd Now to guard sure cheir Master. And this is all a liberal course allows; Who cannot keep his Wealth, must keep his House. [Exit.

SCENE II. Timon's Hall.

Enter Varro, Tirus, Hortensius, Lucius, and other Servants

of Timon's Creditors, who wait for his coming out.
Var. Well mer, good Morrow, Titus and Hortensius,
Tit. The like to you, kind Varro.
Hor. Lucius, what do we meet together ?

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Luc. Ay, and I think one Business does command us all.
For mine is Mony.
Tit. So is theirs and ours.

Enter Philo.
Luc. And Sir Philo's too.
Phi. Good Day at once.

Luc. Welcome, good Brother.
What do you think the Hour?

Phi. Labouring for oint.
Luc. So much?
Phi. Is not my Lord seen yet?
Luc. Not yet.
Phi. I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seven.

Luc. Ay, but the Days are wax'd shorter with him: You must consider that a prodigal course Is like the Sun'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 find little.

Phi. I am of your fear for that.

Tit. I'll few you t'observe a strange Event: Your Lord sends now for Mony?

Hor. Moft true, he does.

Tit. And he wears Jewels now of Timon's Gift, For which I wait for Mony.

Hor. It is against my Heart.

Luc. Mark how ftrange it shows,
Timon in this should pay more than he owes:
And e'en as if your Lord should wear rich Jewels
And send for Mony for 'em.

Hor. I am weary of this Charge, the Gods can witness :
I know my Lord hath spent of Timon's Wealth,
And now Ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.

Var. Yes, mine's three thousand Crowns: What's yours?

Luc. Five thousand, mine.

Var. 'Tis much deep, and it should seem by th' Sim,
Your Master's Confidence was above mine,
Else surely his had equall’d.

Enter Flaminius.
Tit. One of Lord Timon's Men.

Luc.

Luc. Flaminius! Sir, a Word: Pray is my Lord ready to come forth?

Flam. No, indeed he is not.
Tit. We attend his Lordship; pray signifie 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 mufied fo?
He goes away in a Cloud: Calt hím, call him.

Tit. Do you hear, Sir
Var. By your leave, Sir.
Flav. What do you ask of me, my Friend?
Tit. We wait for certain Mony here, Sir.

Flav. If Mony were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough.
Why then prefer'd you not your Sums and Bills,
When

your false Masters eat of my Lord's Meat?
Then they would smile, and fawn upon his Debes,
And take down th'Interest into their gluit'nous Maws.
You do your selves but wrong to stir me up,
Let me país quietly:
Believ't, my Lord and I have made an end,
I have no more to reckon, he to spend.

Luc. Ay, but this Answer will not serve.

Flav. If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you, For you serve Knaves.

[Exit Flavius. 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 House to put his Head in? Such may rail against great Buildings.

Enter Servilius.

1

Tit. Oh, here's Servilius; now we shall have some an

,fwer.

1

1

Serv. If I might beseech you, Gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from't. For take't of my Soul, my Lord leans wondrously to discontent: His comfortable temper

, has forsook him, he's much out of Health, and keeps his Chamber.

I 3

Luc.

Luc. Many do keep their Chambers, are not lick:
And if he be so far beyond his Health,
Methinks he should the sooner pay his Debts,
And make a clear way to the Gods.

Serv. 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 against my palige?
Have I been ever free, and must my House
Be my retentive Enemy? My Goal?
The Place which I have feafted, does it now,
Like all Mankind, shew 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 Sums.
Tit. Mine, fifty Talents.
Tim. Tell out my Blood.
Luc. Five thousand Crowns, my Lord.

Tim. Five thousand drops pays that.
What yours? and yours?

Var. My Lord
Cap. My Lord
Tim. Tear me, take me, and the Gods fall upon you.

[Exit Timon. Hor. Faith, I perceive our Masters may throw their Caps at their Mony, these Debts may well be call'd desperate cres, for a mad Man owes 'em.

[Exeunt.
Enter Timon and Flavius.
Tim. They have e'en put my Breath from me, the Slaves.
Creditors! Devils.

Flav. My dear Lord.
Tim. What if it should be fo.
Flav. My dear Lord.

Tim. I'll have it foMy Steward !

! Flav. Here, my Lord.

Tim. So fitly! Go, bid all my Friends again,
Lucius, Lucullus and Sempronius. All-
I'll once more Feast the Rascals.

Flav. O my Lord! you only speak from your distracted Soul; there's not so much left as to furnish out a moderate Table.

Tim. Be it not in thy Care: Go, I charge thee, invite them áll, lec in the ride Of Knaves once more: My Cook and I'll provide. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The City.

Enter three Senators at one Door, Alcibiades meeting them

with Attendants, 1 Sen. My Lord, you have my Voice to't, the Fault's bloody; 'Tis necessary he should dye: Nothing emboldens Sin so much as Mercy.

2 Sen. Most true; the Law shall bruise 'em.
Alc. Honour, Health and Compassion to the Senate.
Sen. Now, Captain.

Alc. I am an humble Suitor to your Virtues,
For Pity is the Virtue of the Law,
And none but Tyrants use it cruelly.
It pleases Time and Fortune to lye heavy
Upon a Friend of mine, who in hot Blood
Hath stept into the Law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed, do plunge into't.
He is a Man, setting his Fate afide, of comely Virtues,
And Honour in him, which buys out his Fault;
Nor did he soil the Fa& with Cowardise,
But with a noble Fury, and fair Spirit,
Seeing his Reputation couch'd to Death,
He did oppose his Foe;
And with such sober and unnoted Pallion
He did behive his Anger e'er 'r was spent,
As if he had but prov'd an Argument.

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