4 Enter Servilius.

Tit. Oh, here's Servilius; now we fhall have fome anfwer.

Serv. If I might befeech you, gentlemen, to repair fome other hour, I fhould derive much from it. For take it of my foul,

My Lord leans wond'roufly to difcontent,

His comfortable temper has forfook him,

.

He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
Luc. Many do keep their chambers, are not sick;
And if he be fo far beyond his health,
Methinks, he fhould the fooner pay his debts,
And make a clear way to the Gods.

Ser. Good Gods!

Tit. We cannot take this for an answer.
Flam. [within.] Servilius, help-my Lord! my Lord.

SCENE V.

Enter Timon, in a rage.

Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my paffage?

Have I been ever free, and muft my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?

The place, which I have feafted, does it now,
Like all mankind, fhew me an iron-heart?

Luc. Put in now, Titus.

Tit. My Lord, here's my bill.

Luc. Here's mine.

Var. And mine, my Lord.
Caph. And ours, my Lord.
Phi. And our bills.

4 Enter Servilius.] It may be obferved that Shakespeare has un

fkilfully filled his Greek fory with Roman names.

Tim. Knock me down with 'em. Cleave me to the

girdle.

Luc. Alas! my Lord.

Tim. Cut out my heart in fums.

Tit. Mine, fifty talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood.

Luc. Five thousand crowns, my Lord.
Tim. Five thousand drops pay that.

What yours

Var. My Lord

and yours?

Caph. My Lord

Tim. Here tear me, take me, and the Gods fall on

you.

[Exit. Hor. 'Faith, I perceive, our Masters may throw their caps at their money. Thefe debts may be well call'd defperate ones, for a mad man owes 'em. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Timon and Flavius.

Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the flaves. Creditors!-devils.

Flav. My dear Lord,———

Tim. What if it fhould be fo?

Flav. My dear Lord,

Tim. I'll have it fo-My fteward!

Flav. Here, my Lord.

Tim. So fitly!-Go, bid all my friends again,

Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius. All.

I'll once more feaft the rafcals.

Flav. O my Lord!

You only speak from your diftracted foul

There's not fo much left as to furnish out
A moderate table.

Tim. Be it not thy care.

Go, and invite them all, let in the tide

Of knaves once more; my Cook and I'll provide.

[Exeunt.

SCENE.

1 Sen.

SCENE vi.

Changes to the Senate boufe.

M

Senators, and Alcibiades.

Y Lord, you have my voice to't. The fault's bloody;

'Tis neceffary he should die.

Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy.

2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruife him. Alc. Health, Honour, and Compaffion to the fenate! 1 Sen. Now? Captain.

Ale. I am an humble fuitor to your Virtues;
For Pity is the virtue of the law,

And none but Tyrants ufe it cruelly.
It pleafes time and fortune to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath ftept into the law, which is past depth
To thofe that without heed do plunge into't.
5 He is a man, fetting his fault afide,
Of comely virtues ;

Nor did he foil the fact with cowardife,
An honour in him which buys out his fault,
But with a noble fury, and fair fpirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppofe his foe,

8

And with fuch fober 7 and unnoted paffion
He did behave his anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

1 Sen. You undergo too ftrict a Paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair;

Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd
To bring Man-flaughter into form, and fet quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,

Is valour mif- begot, and came into the world
When fects and factions were but newly born.
He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer

The worft that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
His outfides; wear them like his rayment, carelefly;
And ne'er prefer his Injuries to his heart,

Alc. My Lord,

Sen. You cannot make grofs fins look clear; It is not valour to revenge, but bear.

Alc. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, If I fpeak like a Captain.

Why do fond men expofe themfelves to battle,

He did behold his adverfary fhent,

As if he had but fro-v'd an argument.

He looked with fuch calmness on his flain aiverfary.

9 You undergo ton ftrict a paradox,] You undertake a pa

radox too hard.

› —and make his wrongs
His OUT. IDES; wear THEM

ke his raim nt, car lefly ;] It should be read and pointed thus,

-ana make his wrongs
His outfide wear; burg like bis.

rayment, carelef. WARB The prefent reading is better

And

And not endure all threatnings, fleep upon't,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
Without repugnancy? but if there be

Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? why then, fure, women are more valiant,
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;

The afs, more than the lion; and the fellow,
Loaden with irons, wifer than the judge;
If wisdom be in fuff'ring. Oh, my Lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good;

Who cannot condemn Rafhnefs in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is fin's extreamest guft,
But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
To be in anger is impiety,

5

But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.

2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Alc. In vain? His Service done
At Lacedemon, and Byzantium,

2

what make we
Abroad?-] What do we, or
what have we to do in the field?
3 The af, more than the lion,
&c.] Here is another arbitrary
regulation. The original reads
thus,

what make we
Abroad, why then women are
more valiant

That stay at home, if bearing
carry it:

And the afs more captain than
the lion,

The fellow, loaden with irons,
wifer than the judge,
If wisdom, &c.

I think it may be better adjufted

thus.

what make we
Abroad, why then the women
are more valiant