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Tim. And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd,
That I account them blessings; for by these
Shall I try friends. You shall perceive how you
Mistake my fortunes: in my friends I'm wealthy.
Within there, ho! Flaminius, Servilius!

Enter Flaminius, Servilius, and other Servants.
Serv. My Lord, my Lord.

Tim. I will dispatch you sev'rally,
You to Lord Luciusto Lord Lucullus you, I hunted
with his honour to day-you to Sempronius-commend
me to their loves; and I am proud, say, that my occa-
fions have found time to use 'em toward a supply of
money ; let the request be fifty talents.

Flam. As you have said, my Lord.
Flav. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum

Tim. Go, you, Sir, to the Senators; [To Flavius
Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
Deserv'd this hearing; bid 'em send o'th' inftant
A thousand talents to me.

Flav. I've been bold,
(For that I knew it the most gen'ral way)
To them to use your signet and your name;
But they do shake their heads, and I am here
No richer in return.

Tim. Is't true ? can't be ?

Flav. They answer in a joint and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
Do what they would; are forry--You are honourable
But yet they could have wilht-they know norm
Something hath been amissma noble nature
May catch a wrench--would all were well-'tis pity-
And so intending other serious matters,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods, (15)

They (15) Cold-moving nods, ] All the editions exhibit these as two diftinct adjectives, to the prejudice of the author's meaning: but they must be join'd by an byphen, and make a compound adjective out of a substantive and a participle, and then we have the true sense of the place; cold-moving, cold-provoking, nods fo discouraging that they



They froze me into silence.

Tim. You gods reward them! I pr’ythee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows, 'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind; And nature, as it grows again tow'rd earth, Is fashion’d for the journey, dull and heavy. Go to Ventidius-pr’ythee, be not sad, Thou'rt true, and just; ingenuously I speak, No blame belongs to thee: Ventidius lately Bury'd his father, by whose death he's stepp'd Into a great eftate; when he was poor, Imprison'd, and in scarcity of friends, I clear'd him with five talents. Greet him from me; Bid him suppose, some good necessity Touches his friend, which craves to be remembered With those five talents. That had, give't these fellows To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can fink.

Stew. Would, I could not: that thought is bounty's foe; Being free itself, it thinks all others so. [Exeunt. chNNఆగగా గగోరింగాయగారి

SCENE, Lucullus's House in Athens.

Flaminius waiting, Enter a Servant to him.

Have told my Lord of you; he is coming down to you.

I Havelcam. Ithank you, sir.

Enter Lucullus.
Ser. Here's


Lord. chillid the very ardour of our petition, and froze us into filence. We meet with a compound, exactly form'd like this, in K. John, Act 2. where Lady Constance says;

His grandam's wrong, and not his mother's shames,
Draws those beav'n-moving pearls from his poor eyes.


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Lucul. One of Lord Timon's men; a gift, I warrantWhy, this hits right: I dreamt of a silver bafon and ewre to-night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome, Sir; fill me some wine. And how does that honourable, compleat, free-hearted Gen. tleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good Lord and master?

Flam. His health is well, Sir. Lucul. I am right glad that his health is well, Sir; and what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?

Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box, Sir, which in my Lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to fupply; who having great and instant occasion to use fifty talents, hath sent to your Lord thip to furnish him, nothing doubting your present affistance therein.

Lucul. La, la, la, la, -Nothing doubting, says he? alas, good Lord, a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' din'd with him, and told him on't; and come again to supper to him, on purpose to have him spend less. And

yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming; every man hath his fault, and honesty is his. I ha' told him on't, but I could never get him from't.

Enter a Servant, with wine.
Ser. Please your Lordship, here is the wine.
Lucul. Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise.
Here's to thee.

Flam. Your Lordship speaks your pleasure.

Lucul. I have observ’d thee always for a towardly prompt fpirit, give thee thy due: and one that knows what belongs to reason; and canft use the time well, if the time use thee well. Good parts in thee-Get you gone, firrah. [To the Servant, who goes out]—Draw nearer, honest Flaminius; thy Lord's a bountiful gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou knowest well enough (altho' thou comeft to me) that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without


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security. Here's three Solidares for thee; good boy, wink at me, and say, thou saw't me not. Fare thee well.

Flam. Is’t possible the world should so much differ, And we alive that liv’d? fly, damned baseness, To him that worships thee. [Throwing the money away.

Lucul. Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.

[Exit Lucullus. Flam. May these add to the number that may scald thee; Let molten coin be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, It turns in less than two nights? O you gods! I feel my master's passion. This llave Unto this hour has my Lord's meat in him: Why should it thrive, and turn to nutriment, When he is turn’d to poison? 0! may diseases only work upon't: And when he's fick to death, let not that part Of nature, my Lord paid for, be of power To expel fickness, but prolong his hour! (16) [Exit.

SCENE, a publick Street.

Luc. W friend, and an honourable gentleman.

Enter Lucius, with three Strangers.
HO, the Lord Timon? he is my very good

, i Stran. We know him for no less, tho' we are but strangers to him.

But I can tell you one thing, my Lord, and which I hear from common rumours, now Lord Timon's happy hours are done and past, and his eftate shrinks from him.

(16) But prolong his hour! ] Mr. Pope, in both his editions, without any authority or reason assign'd, has fubstituted or inftead of but here: by which the sense is infeebled; and the servant only made to say, let my master's meat in his belly, when he comes to be fick, neither be of force to expel his sickness, nor to put off the time of his death, one hour.

Whereas but finely exaggerates the servant's intended curse, to this effect: Let diseases only work upon that food in him, which my master paid for; let it not prove a nutriment able to expel the malady; but on the contrary, the fewel to his distemper, and the means of prolonging his torture!




Luc. Fy, no, do not believe it: he cannot want for money.

2 Stran. But believe you this, my Lord, that not long ago one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow fifty talents, nay, urg'd extremely for't, and thewed what necessity belong'd to't, and yet was deny’d.

Luc, How?
2 Stran. I tell you, deny'd, my Lord.

Lue. What a strange case was that? now, before the gods, I am alham’d on'. Deny'd that honourable man? there was very little honour fhew'd in that. For my own part, I must needs confess, I have received some small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels, and such like trifles, nothing comparing to his; yet had he mistook him, and sent him to me, I thould ne'er have deny'd his occafion so many talents.

Enter Servilius, Ser. See, by good hap, yonder's my Lord, I have sweat to see his honour.-My honour'd Lord — [TO Lucius.

Luc. Servilius! you are kindly met, Sir. Fare thee well, commend me to thy honourable virtuous Lord, my very exquisite friend. Ser. May it please your honour, my Lord hath fent-

Luc. Ha! what hath he sent? I am so much endear'd to that Lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank him, think’it thou? and what has he sent now?

Ser. H'as only sent his present occasion now, my Lord; requesting your Lordship to supply his instant use, with fifty talents.

Luc. I know, his Lord fhip is but merry with me;
He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.

Ser. But in the mean time he wants less, my Lord.
If his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it half so faithfully.

Luc. Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
Ser. Upon my soul, 'tis true, Sir.

Luc. What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish myself against such a good time, when I might ha’ shewn myself honourable? how unluckily it hapned, that I should


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