Luc.

Who, the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman.

1 Stran.

* ^noteWe 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 estate shrinks from him.

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 shewed what necessity belong'd to't, and yet was deny'd.

Luc.

How?

2 Stran.

I tell you; deny'd, my Lord.

Luc.

What a strange case was that? Now, before the Gods, I am asham'd on't. Deny'd that honourable man? There was very little honour shew'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; ^{9 note}

Ser.

See, by good hap, yonder's my Lord, I have sweat to see his Honour.—My honour'd Lord—

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 sent—

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'st 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 Lordship is but merry with me;
He cannot want fifty five hundred talents.

Ser.
But in the mean time he wants less, my Lord.
^{1 note}If his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it ^{2 note}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 hap'ned, ^{3 note}

Ser.
Yes, Sir, I shall.

Luc.
I'll look ye out a good turn, Servilius. [Exit Servilius.
—True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed;
And he, that's once deny'd, will hardly speed. [Exit.

1 Stran.
Do you observe this, Hostilius?

2 Stran.
Ay, too well.

1 Stran.
Why, this is the world's soul;
And just of the same piece is every ^{4 note}

Who can call him his friend,
That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing,
Timon has been this Lord's father,
And kept his credit with his purse,
Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne'er drinks,
But Timon's Silver treads upon his lip;
And yet, oh, see the monstrousness of man,
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!
He does deny him, ^{5 note}

3 Stran.
Religion groans at it.

1 Stran.
For mine own part,
I never tasted Timon in my life;
Nor any of his bounties came o'er me,
To mark me for his friend. Yet, I protest,
For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue,
And honourable carriage,
Had his necessity made use of me,
^{6 note}

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