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Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, For which I wait for mony.

Hor. Againft my heart.

Tit. How ftrange it fhews, Timon in this fhould pay
More than he owes! and e'en as if your Lord
Should wear rich jewels and fend, mony for 'em.

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 stealth.

Var. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? Luc. Five thousand.


Var. 'Tis much too deep, and it should seem by th' fum, Your mafter'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 not.

Tit. We attend his Lordship; pray fignifie 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 fteward 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? Tit. We wait for certain mony here, Sir. Flav. If mony were as certain as your waiting, "Twere fure enough."

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Why then preferr'd you not your fums and bills,
When your falfe mafters eat of my Lord's meat?
Then they would fmile and fawn upon his debts,
And take down th' intereft in their glutt'nous maws.
You do your felves but wrong to ftir 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.

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Luc. Ay, but this anfwer will not ferve. :


Flav. If 'twill not ferve, 'tis not fo bafe as you, you ferve knaves.


Var. How! what does his cafhier'd Worfhip 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? fuch 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.'
Luc. Many do keep their chambers, are not fick:
And if he be fo far beyond his health,

Methinks he should the fooner pay his debts,

And make a clear way to the Gods.

Ser. Good Gods!

Tit. We cannot take this for an answer.

Flam. [Within.] Servilius, help-my Lord! my Lord! SCENE V.

Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my paffage ? Have I been ever free, and muft my house

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.

Luc. Alas, my Lord.

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Tim. Cut out my heart in fums.
Tit. Mine, fifty talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood,

- cleave me to the girdle.


Lue. Five thousand crowns, my Lord. Tim. Five thousand drops pay that. What's 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 masters may throw their caps at their mony; these debts may be well call'd defperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Timon and Flavius.

Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors!


Flav. My dear Lord.

Tim. What if it fhould be fo

Flav. My dear Lord.

Tim. I'll have it fo- My fteward!

Flav. Here, my Lord.

Tim. So fitly! Go, bid all my friends again,

Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius.

I'll once more feast the rafcals,

Flav, O my Lord!


You only speak from your diftracted foul;
There's not fo much left as to furnish out
A moderate table.

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 VI. The Senate-Houfe.
Senators, and Alcibiades.

Sen. My Lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's

'Tis neceffary he should die:

Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy.

2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruise him.


Alc. Health, honour, and compaffion to the fenate!

Sen. Now, captain.

Alc. I am an humble fuitor 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 ftept into the law, which is paft.depth
To thofe that without heed do plunge into't.
He is a man, fetting this fact afide,

Of virtuous honour, which buys out his fault;
Nor did he foil the fact with cowardife,
But with a noble fury, and fair fpirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppofe his foe:

And with fuch fober and unnoted paffion
He did behave in's anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

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
To bring man-flaughter into form, fet quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which indeed

Is valour mis-begot, and came into th' world
When fects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer

The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His out-fides, wear them like his rayment, carelefly,
And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,

To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill?
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 expofe themselves to battel,
And not endure all threatnings, fleep upon't,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats,"
Without repugnancy? but if there be
Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? why then fure women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;
The afs, more than the lion; and the fellow'
Loaden with irons, wifer than the judge,“



If wisdom be in fuff'ring. Oh my Lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good :

Who cannot condemn rafhnefs in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is fin's extreameft guft,
But in defence, by mercy 'tis most just.
To be in anger, is impiety:

But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this,
2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Alc. In vain his fervice done
At Lacedæmon, and Bizantium,
Were a fufficient briber for his life.
I Sen. What's that?

Alc. I fay, my Lords, h'as done fair fervice; flain
In battle many of your enemies;

How full of valour did he bear himself

In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
2 Sen, He has made too much plenty with 'em, he
Is a fworn rioter; he has a fin

Oft' drowns him, and takes valour prifoner.
Were there no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him. In that beaftly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions. "Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous.
1 Sen. He dies.

Alc. Hard fate! he might have dy'd in war.
My Lords, if not for any parts in him,

(Though his right arm might purchase his own time,
And be in debt to none ;) yet more to move you,
Take my deferts to his, and join 'em both.
And for I know, your reverend ages love
Security, I'll pawn my victories,

My honours to you, on his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receive't in valiant gore ;
For law is ftrict, and war is nothing more.

1 Sen. We are for law, he dies, urge it no more,
On height of our displeasure: friend, or brother,
He forfeits his own blood, that fpills another.


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