SCENE II.
A publick street.
Enter Lucius, with three strangers.
Luc.
Who, the lord Timon? he is my very good
friend, and an honourable gentleman.
-- 371 --
1 Stran.
7 noteWe know him for no less, though 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.
Fye, 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 so many talents8 note; nay, urg'd extremely
for't, and shew'd 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't.
For my own part, I must needs confess, I have receiv'd
some small kindnesses from him, as money,
plate, jewels, and such like trifles, nothing comparing
to his; 9 note
yet, had he mistook him, and sent
-- 372 --
to me, I should ne'er have deny'd his occasion 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
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.
He has only sent his present occasion now,
my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant
use with so many talents1 note.
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.
2 note
If his occasion were not virtuous,
-- 373 --
I should not urge it 3 notehalf 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
have shewn myself honourable? how unluckily it
happen'd, 4 note
that I should purchase the day before
for a little part, and undo a great deal of honour?—
Servilius, now before the gods, I am not able to
do't; the more beast, I say:—I was sending to use
lord Timon myself, these gentlemen can witness;
but I would not, for the wealth of Athens, I had
done it now. Commend me bountifully to his good
lordship; and, I hope, his honour will conceive
the fairest of me, because I have no power to be
kind:—And tell him this from me, I count it one
of my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure
such an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius,
will you befriend me so far, as to use my own words
to him?
-- 374 --
Ser.
Yes, sir, I shall.
Luc.
I'll look you 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 sport;
And just of the same piece is every 5 note
flatterer's soul.
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, (O, see the monstrousness of man,
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!)
He does deny him, 6 note
in respect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars.
-- 375 --
3 Stran.
Religion groans at it.
1 Stran.
For mine own part,
I never tasted Timon in my life,
Nor came any of his bounties over 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,
7 note
I would have put my wealth into donation8 note
,
And the best half should have return'd to him,
So much I love his heart: But, I perceive,
Men must learn now with pity to dispense;
For policy sits above conscience.
[Exeunt.
-- 376 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].