Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you? [To a Messenger.

Mes.
Ay, my good Lord. Five talents is his debt,
His means most short, his creditors most straight.
Your honourable letter he desires
To those have shut him up, which failing periods
His comfort.

Tim.
Noble Ventidius! Well
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he most needs me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him.

Mes.
Your lordship ever binds him.

Tim.
Commend me to him, I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me.
^{6 note}

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

But to support him after. Fare you well.

Mes.
All happiness to your Honour. [Exit. Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim.
Freely, good father.

Old Ath.
Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.

Tim.
I have so: what of him?

Old Ath.
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim.
Attends he here or no?—Lucilius! Enter Lucilius.

Luc.
Here, at your Lordship's service.

Old Ath.
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well, what further?

Old Ath.
One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got;
The maid is fair, o'th' youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pray thee, noble Lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
The man is honest.

Old Ath.
^{7 note}