True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed;

And he, that's once denied, 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 flatterer's spirit. 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, 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.

SCENE III.

The Sume. A Room in Sempronius's House.

Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of Timon's.

Sem. Must he needs trouble me in't? Humph! 'Bove all others?

He might have tried lord Lucius, or Lucullus;
And now Ventidius is wealthy too,

Whom he redeem'd from prison: All these three
Owe their estates unto him.

Serv.

O my lord,

They have all been touch'd, and found base metal;

for

They have all deny'd him.

Sem.

How! have they deny'd him?

Has Ventidius and Lucullus deny'd him?
And does he send to me? Three? humph!-
It shows but little love or judgement in him.
Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,
Thrive, give him over; Must I take the cure upon

me?

He has much disgrac'd me in't; I am angry at him, That might have known my place: 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:

And does he think so backwardly of me now,

That I'll requite it last? No: So it may prove
An argument of laughter to the rest,

And I amongst the lords be thought a fool.

I had rather than the worth of thrice the sum,

He had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake;

I had such a courage to do him good. But now

return,

And with their faint reply this answer join;

Who bates mine honour, shall not know my coin.

[Exit.

Serv. Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did, when he made man politick; 30 he cross'd himself by't: and I cannot think, but, in the end, the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul? takes virtuous copies to be wicked; like those that, under hot ardent zeal, would set whole realms on fire. Of such a nature is his politick love.

This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, Save the gods only: Now his friends are dead, Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year, must be employ'd

Now to guard sure their master.

And this is all a liberal course allows;

Who cannot keep his wealth, must keep his house.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

The Same. A Hall in Timon's House.

Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of Lucius, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants to Timon's Creditors, waiting his coming out.

Var. Serv. Well met; good-morrow, Titus and Hortensius.

Tit. The like to you, kind Varro.

Phi. I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.

Luc. Serv. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him:

You must consider, that a prodigal course

Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.
I fear,

'Tis deepest winter in lord Timon's purse;

That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet
Find little.

Phi.

I am of your fear for that.

Tit. I'll show you how to observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money.

Hor. Most true, he does.

Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,

For which I wait for money.

Hor. It is against my heart.

Luc. Serv.

Mark, how strange it shows,

Timon in this should pay more than he owes:

And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,

And send for money for 'em.

Hor. I am weary of this charge, the gods can witness:

I know, my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,

And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. 1 Var, Serv. Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: What's yours?

Luc. Serv. Five thousand mine.

1 Var. Serv. 'Tis much deep: and it should seem

by the sum,

Your master's confidence was above mine;

Else, surely, his had equall'd.