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 Whofe Star-like Nobleness gave Life and Influence With any fize of Words. Tim. Let it go, Naked Men may feet the better: You that are honeft, by being what you are, 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. Tim. Good honeft Man; thou draw'ft a Counterfeit 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, Both. Befeech your Honour To make it known to us. Both. Moft thankfully, my Lord. 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, Pain. I know none fuch, my Lord. 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, Both. Name them, my Lord, let's know them. 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 Hence, pack, there's Gold, ye came for Gold, ye Slaves; 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: For he is fet fo only to himself, That That nothing but himself, which looks like Man, 1 Sex. Bring us to his Cave. It is our part and promife to th' Athenians 2 Sen. At all times alike Men are not still the fame; 'twas Time and Griefs The former Man may make him; bring us to him, Flav. Here is his Cave: Peace and Content be here, Timon! 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 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 2 Sen. They confefs Toward thee, forgetfulness too general grofs, A lack of Timon's Aid, hath Sence withal L 2 And And fends forth us to make their forrowed render, 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 Who like a Boar too favage, doth root up 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; I cannot chufe but tell him that I care not, 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, 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, In Life's uncertain Voyage, I will fome kindness do them, 2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again. Tim. Come not to me again, but fay to Athens, L 3 Lips, |