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J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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SCENE II. The Same. A Public Place. Enter Lucius, with Three Strangers.

Luc.

Who? the lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman.

1 Stran.

We 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

-- 538 --

lord Timon's happy hours are done and past, and his estate shrinks from him.

Luc.

Fie! 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 talents; 11Q0951 nay, urged extremely for't, and showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied.

Luc.

How?

2 Stran.

I tell you, denied, my lord.

Luc.

What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man? there was very little honour showed in't. 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; yet, had he mistook him, and sent to me, I should ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents.

Enter Servilius.

Ser.

See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; I have sweat to see his honour.—My honoured 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 has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord, he's ever sending: how shall I thank him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now?

Ser.

He has only sent1 note his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents.

-- 539 --

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.
If his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it 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 have shown myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, 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; 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 mine own words to him?

Ser.

Yes, sir, I shall.

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

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 flatterer's sport8 note. Who can call him

-- 540 --


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, in respect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars.

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,
I would have put my wealth into donation,
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.
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J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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