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Poet. Hail! worthy Timon.

Pain. Our late Noble Master.

Tim. Have I once liv'd to fee two honeft Men? Poet. Sir, having often of your Bounty tafted, Hearing you were retir'd, your Friends faln off, Whofe thanklefs Natures, Oh abhorred Spirits! Not all the Whips of Heav'n are large enough

What! to you

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Whofe Star-like Nobleness gave Life and Influence
To their whole Being! I am rapt, and cannot cover
The monftrous bulk of this Ingratitude

With any fize of Words.

Tim. Let it go,

Naked Men may feet the better:

You that are honeft, by being what you are,
Make them best feen and known.

Pain. He, and my felf,

Have travell'd in the

And fweetly felt it.

great

Shower of your Gifts,

Tim. Ay, you are honeft Men.

Pain. We are hither come

To offer you our Service.

Tim. Moft honeft Men!

Why how fhall I requite you?

Can you eat Roots, and drink cold Water? no.

Both. What we can do,

We'll do, to do you Service.

Tim. Y'are honeft Men;

You've heard that I have Gold,

I am fure you have, fpeak truth, y'are honeft Men.
Pain. So it is faid, my Noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my Friend, nor I.

Tim. Good honeft Man; thou draw'ft a Counterfeit
Beft in all Athens, thou'rt indeed the best,

Thou counterfeit'ft moft lively.

Pain. So, fo, my Lord.

Tim. E'en fo, Sir, as I fay. And for thy Fiction, Why thy Verfe fwells with ftuff fo fine and smooth, That thou art even Natural in thine Art.

VOL. V.

L

But

But for all this, my honeft-natur'd Friends,
I muft needs fay you have a little Fault,
Marry 'tis not monftrous in you, neither wish I
You take much pains to mend.

Both. Befeech your Honour

To make it known to us.
Tim. You'll take it ill.

Both. Moft thankfully, my Lord.
Tim. Will you indeed?

Beth. Doubt it not, worthy Lord.

Tim. There's never a one of you but trufts a Knave, That mightily deceives you.

Both. Do we, my Lord?

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cogg,fee him diffemble,
Know his grofs patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep him in your Bofom, yet remain affur'd
That he's a made-up Villain.

Pain. I know none fuch, my Lord.
Poet. Nor I.

Tim. Look you,

I love you well, I'll give you Gold,

Rid me thefe Villains from your Companies;

Hang them, or ftab them, drown them in the draught,
Confound them by fome Courfe, and come to me,
I'll give you Gold enough.

Both. Name them, my Lord, let's know them.
Tim. You that way, and you this;

But two in Company:

Each Man apart, all fingle and alone,

Yet an arch Villain keeps him Company:

If where thou art, two Villains shall not be,

Come not near him. If thou would'ft not refide
But where one Villain is, then him abandon.

Hence, pack, there's Gold, ye came for Gold, ye Slaves;
You have work for me; there's Payment, thence,

You are an Alchymift, make Gold of that:

Out Rafcal Dogs.

[Beating and driving 'em out.

Enter Flavius and two Senators.

Flav. It is in vain that you would fpeak with Timon:

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For he is fet fo only to himself,

That

That nothing but himself, which looks like Man,
Is friendly with him.

1 Sex. Bring us to his Cave.

It is our part and promife to th' Athenians
To speak with Timon.

2 Sen. At all times alike

Men are not still the fame; 'twas Time and Griefs
That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer Hand,
Offering the Fortunes of his former Days,

The former Man may make him; bring us to him,
And chance it as it may.

Flav. Here is his Cave:

Peace and Content be here, Timon! Timon!
Look out, and fpeak to Friends: Th' Athenians
By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee;
Speak to them, Noble Timon,

Enter Timon out of his Cave.

Tim. Thou Sun that comfort burn,

Speak and be hang'd:

For each true Word a Blister, and each false
Be as a Cauterizing to the root o'th' Tongue,
Confuming it with speaking.

1 Sen. Worthy Timon.

Tim. Of none but fuch as you,

And you of Timon.

2 Sen. The Senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

Tim. I thank them,

And would fend them back the Plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

I Sen. O forget

What we are forry for our felves in thee:

The Senators, with one confent of love,

Intreat thee back to Athens, who have thought

On fpecial Dignities, which vacant lye
For thy beft use and wearing.

2 Sen. They confefs

Toward thee, forgetfulness too general grofs,
Which now the publick Body, which doth feldom
Play the Recanter, feeling in it felf

A lack of Timon's Aid, hath Sence withal
Of it's own fall, reftraining Aid to Timon,

L 2

And

And fends forth us to make their forrowed render,
Together with a Recompence more fruitful
Than their Offence can weigh down by the Dram,
Ay, even fuch heaps and fums of Love and Wealth,
As fhall to thee blot out what Wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the Figures of their Love,
Even to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it,

Surprize me to the very brink of Tears:

Lend me a Fool's Heart, and a Woman's Eyes, t
And I'll beweep these Comforts, worthy Senators.
1 Sen. Therefore fo pleafe thee to return with us,
And of our Athens, thine and ours to take
The Captainship, thou shalt be met with Thanks,
Allowed with abfolute Power, and thy good Name
Live with Authority; fo foon we shall drive back
Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,

Who like a Boar too favage, doth root up
His Country's Peace.

2 Sen. And fhakes his threatning Sword Against the Walls of Athens.

I Sen. Therefore, Timon

Tim. Well Sir, I will; therefore I will Sir, thus

If Alcibiades kill my Countrymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,

That Timon cares not. But if he fack fair Athens, And take our goodly aged Men by th' Beards, Giving our Holy Virgins to the ftain

Of contumelious, beaftly, mad-brain'd War;
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
In pity of our Aged, and our Youth,

I cannot chufe but tell him that I care not,
And let him take't at worft; for their Knives care not,
While you have Throats to anfwer. For my felf,
There's not a whittle in th' unruly Camp,

But I do prize it at my Love, before

The reverend't Throat in Athens. So I leave your To the Protection of the profperous Gods,

As Thieves to Keepers.

Flav. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
It will be feen to Morrow. My long fickness
Of Health and Living, now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, live ftill,
Be Alcibiades your Plague; you his;
And laft fo long enough,

I Sen. We speak in vain.

Tim. But yet I love my Country, and am not One that rejoices in the common wrack,

As common, Brute doth put it.

I Sen. That's well spoke.

Tim. Commend me to my loving Countrymen.

1 Sen. Thefe Words become your Lips, as they pafs thro' them.

2 Sen. And enter into our Ears like great Triumphers In their applauding Gates.

Tim. Commend me to them,

And tell them, that to ease them of their Griefs,
Their fears of Hoftile Strokes, their Arches, Loffes,
Their pangs of Love, with other incident throws
That Nature's fragile Veffel doth sustain.

In Life's uncertain Voyage, I will fome kindness do them,
I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades Wrath.

2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again.
Tim. I have a Tree which grows here in my Clofe,
That mine own ufe invites me to cut down,
And fhortly muft I fell it. Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the frequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that whofo please
To ftop Affliction, let him take his haste;
Come hither e'er my Tree hath felt the Ax,
And hang himself. I pray you do my greeting.
Flav. Trouble him no further, thus you ftill fhall
Find him.

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Tim. Come not to me again, but fay to Athens,
Timon hath made his Everlafting Manfion
Upon the beached Verge of the fale Flood,
Which once a Day with his emboffed Froth
The turbulent Surge fhall cover; thither come,
And let my Grave-ftone be your Oracle:

L 3

Lips,

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