Imatges de pàgina

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

Hor. Against my heart,

Tit. How strange it shews, Timon in this should pay More than he owes! and e'en as if


Lord Should wear rich jewels and send mony for 'em.

Hor. I'm weary of this charge, the Gods can witness: 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 master's confidence was above mine, Else surely 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.
Tic. 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 steward muffled so ?
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 sure enough.
Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills,

false maiters eat of my Lord's meat ?
Then they would smile and fawn upon his debts,
And take down th' interest in their glutt'nous maws.
You do your selves but wrong to ftir me up,
Let me pass 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. 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. Tie. Oh, here's Servilius; now we shall have some answer.

Ser. If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from it. For take it of

my soul,

My Lord leans wondrously to discontent :
His comfortable temper has forsook him,
He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber.

Luc. Many do keep their chambers, are not fick :
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.

Ser. Good Gods !
Tit. We cannot take this for an answer.
Flam. [Witbin.] Servilius, help my Lord! my Lord !


Enter Timon in a rage. Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my passage ? Have I been ever free, and mult my house, Be my retentive enemy, my goal ? The place which I have feasted, 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. Tir. Mine, fifty talents, Tim. Tell out my blood,


Cap. My Lord

Luc. Five thousand crowns, my Lord.

Tim. Five thousand drops pay that.
What's yours — and yours?

Var. My Lord
Tim. Here, tear me, take me, and the Gods fall on you !

Éxit. Hor. 'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their mony; these debts may be well call’d desperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em.

Re-enter Timon and Flavius.
Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the Naves.
Creditors! devils,

Flav, My dear Lord.
Tim. What if it should be so
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. 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 furnith 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'U provide. [Exeunt,
SCENE VI. The Senate-House.

Senators, and Alcibiades. 1 Sen. My Lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's 'Tis necessary he should die :

[bloody i Nothing emboldens fin so much as mercy,

2 Sen. Most true; the law shall bruise him.
Alc. Health, honour, and compassion to the senate !
1 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 pleasęs 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 this fact aside,
Of virtuous honour, which buys out his fault;
Nor did he soil the fact with cowardise,
But with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe :
And with such sober and unnoted passion
He did behave in's anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

i Sen. You undergo too ftrict a paradox;
Striving to make an ugly deed look fair :
Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring man-Naughter into form, set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour ; which indeed
Is valour mis-begot, and came into th' world
When sects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer
The worft that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His out-fides, wear them like his rayment, carelesy,
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 gross fins look clear, It is not valour to revenge, but beas.

Alc. My Lords, then under favour, pardon me,
If I speak like a captain.
Why do fond men expose themselves to battel,
And not endure all threatnings, sleep 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 sure women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it ;
The ass, more than the lion ; and the fellow
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judges:
Vol. VII.


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If wisdom be in fuff'ring. Oh my Lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good :
Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood ?
To kill, I grant, is fin's extreamelt gust,
But in defence, by mercy 'tis moft 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 service done At Lacedæmon, and Bizantium, Were a sufficient briber for his life,

i Sen. What's that?

Alc. I say, my Lords, h’as done fair service z Naia
In battle many of your enemies ;
How full of valour did he bear himself
In the laft conflict, and made plenteous wounds ?

2 Sen. He has made too much plenty with 'em, he
Is a sworn rioter ; he has a fin
Oft' drowns him, and takes valour prisoner.
Were there no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him. In that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherith factions, 'Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous,

I Sen. He dies,

Alc. Hard fạte ! 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 deserts 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 Arict, 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 forfeiçs bis own blood, that spills another.


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