Luc.
“Alone; in tears too? Ill betide the cause,
“That wrings these pearly drops from such fair eyes!
“Look up, divine Evanthe; 'tis thy Lucius,
“Whose life, fame, fortune, whose extremest means,
“Lie all at thy devotion.

Evan.
“Have a care;
“Art sure of that?

Luc.
“What says my fair?

Evan.
“I say,
“Art sure this is not flattery? Speak truly,
“You tell me all that you possess is mine;
“What, if I take you at your word, you'll shrink
“From these large promises.

Luc.
“Lady, I swear—

Evan.
“Oh! swear it by all means.

Luc.
“Then in the name
“Of all the Gods at once—

Evan.
“Ay, this is something;
“Band 'em all in; leave not a God uncall'd
“To witness to your oath; my faith has need on't.

Luc.
“Then let each conscious power, that sees me kneel,
“Witness how gladly Lucius would give up
“Rank, honours, riches, all the world holds dear,
“So he might gain thy love.

Evan.
“Rise; 'tis enough.
“Here is my hand—For that vile trash call'd gold.
“We'll none on't.

Luc.
“Hah!

Evan.
“O we'll be rich in love;
“Love is a pure, sublime, etherial passion:
“Timon wants gold; his state is shrunk to nothing.
“We need it not. Go, and restore him back
“All his too lavish bounty has show'r'd on you;
“Build up his fortune to its former splendor:
“Do this, and I am thine.

Luc.
“Humph!

Evan.
“Do you waver?
“Oh! while you live, beware of perjury,
“The Gods have register'd your oath. Go, Lucius,
“Cast off that glittering garb, as I have done,
“And take a noble poverty like mine:
“And fear not, Lucius, the consenting Heavens
“Shall bless your gratitude and my devotion;
“With honest hands we'll labour to supply
“Life's slender wants, and scorn the guilty great.

Lucius.
“How's this? is Timon ruin'd, did you say?

Evan.
“Go, ask his friends Sempronius and Lucullus,
“They'll tell you he is ruin'd. Ask Ventidius,
“These abject souls will tell you he is ruin'd;
“And therefore these have turn'd their backs upon him.
“But you, my Lucius, you—

Luc.
“Have these denied him?

Evan.
“All, all; their hearts are flint.

Luc.
“Lucullus too?—

Evan.
“He too, the viper that his bosom warm'd;
“None now remains untried, but you alone.

Luc.
“Soft you, am I alone of all untried?
“Sempronius and Lucullus and Ventidius”
Have all denied? And does he send to me?
It shews but little love or judgment in him.
Must I be his last refuge? I am angry.
He has disgrac'd me in't. I see no sense for't,
But his occasions might have woo'd me first;
For, in my conscience, I was the first man,
That e'er receiv'd gift from him. “For you, Lady,
“Your beauty may do something, but not this;
“This were too much. The fairest of you all
“May be too dearly bought.

Evan.
“Away, away
“With these base shifts, these counterfeit complaints;
“Nor love nor friendship ever found thy heart,
“Thou spiritless dissembler: die abhorr'd,
“Gold be thy bane, thy God be thy perdition!
“Out of my sight, ingrateful! Hoa, Flaminius!
“Oh! art thou fled? Thy infamy light on thee,
“Unfeeling, shameless villain.

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