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Phi. I wonder he was wont to fhine at seven. Luc. Ay, but the days are waxed fhorter with him: You must confider that a Prodigal's Course

Is like the fun'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 fhew you how t' obferve a ftrange event: Your lord fends now for mony.

Hor. True, he does.

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

Hor. Against my heart.

Luc. How ftrange it shows,

Timon in this fhould pay more than he owes!
And e'en as if your lord fhould wear rich jewels,
And fend for 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 too much deep, and it fhould feem by th'fum, Your master'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 fo much. Flam. I need not tell him that, he knows you are too diligent.

He

Enter Flavius in a cloak, muffled.

Luc. Ha! is not that his Steward muffled fo?
goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
VOL. VI.
G

Tir.

Tit. Do you hear, Sir-

Var. By your leave, Sir.

Fla. What do you ask of me, my friend?
Tit. We wait for certain mony here, Sir.
Fla. If mony were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere fure enough.

Why then preferr'd you not your fums and bills,
When your falfe masters 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 pafs quietly: ----

Believe'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.
Fla. If 'twill not ferve, 'tis not fo bafe as you;
For you ferve knaves.

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[Exit. Var. How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter? Tit. No matter, what he's enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no houfe to put his head in ? Such may rail against great Buildings.

Enter Servilius.

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

Enter

Enter Timon, in a rage.

Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd againft my paffage? 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, 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-cleave me to

the girdle.

Luc. Alas! my lord.

Tim. Cut out my heart in fums.

Tit. Mine, fifty talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood.

Luc. Five thoufand crowns, my lord.

Tim. Five thousand drops pay that. -and yours?

What 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 Mafters may throw their caps at their mony; these debts may be well call'd defperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em.

Re-enter Timon and Flavius.

[Exeunt.

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

flaves. Creditors!

devils.

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I'll once more feast the rascals.

Fla. O my lord!

You only speak from your distracted 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.

1 Sen.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Senate-house.

MY

Senators, and Alcibiades.

lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's bloody;

'Tis neceffary he should die :

Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy.

2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruife 'em.

Alc. Health, Honour, and Compaffion to the senate!
I Sen. Now, Captain.

Alc. I am an humble fuitor to your Virtues:
For Pity is the virtue of the law,

And none but Tyrants ufe it cruelly.

It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath ftept into the law, which is past depth
To thofe that without heed do plunge into't.
Hé is a man, fetting his fault 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 his 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'd

To

To bring Man-flaughter into form, fet quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour mis-begot, and came into the world
When fects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wifely suffer

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

To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and inforce 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 expose themselves to battle,
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 ftay at home, if bearing carry it;
The afs, more than the lion; and the fellow,
Loaden with irons, wiser 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 extreamest 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 Service done
At Lacedæmon, and Byzantium,
Were a fufficient briber for his life.

1 Sen. What's that?

Ale. I fay, my lords, h'as done fair fervice, And flain in battle many of your enemies;

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