Varro's Servant

Well met: good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.

Tit.

The like to you, kind Varro.

Hortensius

Lucius!

What, do we meet together?

Lucius

Ay, and I think

One business does command us all; for mine

Is money.

Tit.

So is theirs and ours. Enter PHILOTUS.

Lucius

And Sir Philotus too!

Philotus

Good day at once.

Lucius

Welcome, good brother.

What do you think the hour?

Philotus

Labouring for nine.

Lucius

So much?

Philotus

Is not my lord seen yet?

Lucius

Not yet.

Philotus

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

Lucius

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.

Philotus

I am of your fear for that.

Tit.

I'll show you how to observe a strange event.

Your lord sends now for money.

Hortensius

Most true, he does.

Tit.

And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,

For which I wait for money.

Hortensius

It is against my heart.

Lucius

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.

Hortensius

I'm 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.

Varro's Servant

Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?

Lucius

Five thousand mine.

Varro's Servant

'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sum,

Your master's confidence was above mine;

Else, surely, his had equalled. Enter FLAMINIUS.

Tit.

One of Lord Timon's men.

Lucius

Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to come forth?

Flaminius

No, indeed, he is not.

Tit.

We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much.

Flaminius

I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent.

Lucius

Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.

Tit.

Do you hear, sir?

Second Servant

By your leave, sir, —

Flavius

What do ye ask of me, my friend?

Tit.

We wait for certain money here, sir.

Flavius

Ay,

If money were as certain as your waiting,

'Twere sure enough.

Why then preferred you not your sums and bills,

When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?

Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts

And take down the interest into their gluttonous maws.

You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;

Let me pass quietly:

Believe't, my lord and I have made an end;

I have no more to reckon, he to spend.

Lucius

Ay, but this answer will not serve.

Flavius

If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so base as you;

For you serve knaves. Exit.

Varro's Servant

How! what does his cashiered worship mutter?

Second Servant

No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? such may rail against great buildings.

Tit.

O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer.

Servilius

If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some other hour, I should derive much from't; for, take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber.

Lucius

Many do keep their chambers are not sick:

And, if it be so far beyond his health,

Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,

And make a clear way to the gods.

Servilius

Good gods!

Tit.

We cannot take this for answer, sir.

Flaminius

Within.

Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! Enter TIMON, in a rage; FLAMINIUS following.

Timon

What, are my doors opposed against my passage?

Have I been ever free, and must my house

Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?

The place which I have feasted, does it now,

Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?

Lucius

Put in now, Titus.

Tit.

My lord, here is my bill.

Lucius

Here's mine.

Hortensius

And mine, my lord.

Both Servants

And ours, my lord.

Philotus

All our bills.

Timon

Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle.

Lucius

Alas, my lord, —

Timon

Cut my heart in sums.

Tit.

Mine, fifty talents.

Timon

Tell out my blood.

Lucius

Five thousand crowns, my lord.

Timon

Five thousand drops pays that. What yours? — and yours?

Varro's Servant

My lord, —

Second Servant

My lord, —

Timon

Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! Exit.

Hortensius

'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money: these debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Timon

They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves.

Creditors? devils!

Flavius

My dear lord, —

Timon

What if it should be so?

Flavius

My lord, —

Timon

I'll have it so. My steward!

Flavius

Here, my lord.

Timon

So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again.

Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius:

all.

I'll once more feast the rascals.

Flavius

O, my lord,

You only speak from your distracted soul;

There's not so much left, to furnish out

A moderate table.

Timon

Be it not in thy care; go,