Flav.
No care, no stop—so senseless of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot? Takes no account
How things go from him, and resumes no care
Of what is to continue: never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done?—He will not hear, till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting
Fy, fy, fy, fy. [Exit. Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.

Cap.
Good evening! what, you come for money?

Var.
Is't not your business too?

Cap.
It is; and yours too?

Isid.
It is so.

Cap.
Would we were all discharg'd.

Var.
I fear it.

Cap.
Here comes the Lord. Enter Timon, and his train, with Flavius

Tim.
So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again.
—Well, what's your will? [They present their bills.

Cap.
My Lord, here is a note of certain dues.

Tim.
Dues? whence are you?

Cap.
Of Athens here, my Lord.

Tim.
Go to my steward.

Cap.
Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days, this month:
My master is awak'd by great occasion,
To call upon his own; and humbly prays you,
That with your other noble parts you'll suit,
In giving him his right.

Tim.
My honest friend,
I pr'ythee but repair to me next morning.

Cap.
Nay, good my Lord.

Tim.
Contain thyself, good friend.

Var.
One Varro's servant, my good Lord—

Isid.
From Isidore, he prays your speedy payment—

Cap.
If you did know, my Lord, my master's wants—

Var.
'Twas due on forfeiture, my Lord, six weeks, and past—

Isid.
Your steward puts me off, my Lord, and I
Am sent expressly to your Lordship.

Tim.
Give me breath:—
I do beseech you, good my Lords, keep on, [Ex. Lords.
I'll wait upon you instantly.—Come hither:
How goes the world, that I am thus encountred
With clam'rous demands of broken bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?

Flav.
Please you, gentlemen,
The time is unagreeable to this business:
Your importunity cease, till after dinner;
That I may make his Lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim.
Do so, my friends; see them well entertain'd.

Flav.
Pray you, away! [Exeunt creditors.

Tim.
You make me marvel: wherefore, ere this time,
Had you not fully laid my state before me?
That I might so have rated my expence,
As I had leave of means.

Flav.
You would not hear me:
At many leisures I propos'd.

Tim.
Go to:
Perchance, some single vantages you took,
When my indisposition put you back:
And that unaptness made you minister
Thus to excuse yourself.

Flav.
O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my accounts,
Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine honesty;
When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
Return so much, I've shook my head, and wept;
Yea, 'gainst th' authority of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close. I did endure
Not seldom, nor no slight checks; when I have
Prompted you in the ebb of your estate,
And your great flow of debts. My dear lov'd Lord,
Though you hear now too late, yet now's a time;
The greatest of your having lacks a half
To pay your present debts.

Tim.
Let all my land be sold.

Flav.
'Tis all engag'd, some forfeited and gone:
And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues.

Tim.
To Lacedæmon did my land extend.

Flav.
O my good Lord, the world is but a world;
Were it all yours, to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone!

Tim.
You tell me true.

Flav.
If you suspect my husbandry,
Call me before th' exactest auditors,
And set me on the proof. So the Gods bless me,
When all our offices have been opprest
With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept
With drunken spilth of wine; when every room
Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsie,
I have retir'd me to a lonely corner,
And set my eyes at flow.

Tim.
Pr'ythee, no more.

Flav.
Heav'ns! have I said, the bounty of this Lord!
How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
This night englutted! who now is not Timon's?
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon's?
Ah! when the means are gone, that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
These flies are coucht.

Tim.
Come, sermon me no further,
No villainous bounty yet hath past my heart;
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
Why dost thou weep? canst thou the conscience lack,
To think I shall lack friends? secure thy heart;
If I would broach the vessels of my love,
And try the arguments of hearts by borrowing,
Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use,
As I can bid thee speak.

Flav.
Assurance bless your thoughts!

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 Lucius—to Lord Lucullus you,—you to Sempronius—commend me to their loves; and I am proud, say, that my occasions 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? humph!

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' instant
A thousand talents to me.

Flav.
I've been bold,
(For that I knew it the most general 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 sorry—You are honourable—
And so intending other serious matters,
After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods,
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,
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 estate; 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 remember'd
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 sink.

Stew.
Would, I could not: that thought is bounty's foe;
Being free itself, it thinks all others so. [Exeunt. End of the Second Act.

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