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And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble Men.
Caf. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus ;
I said an elder Soldier ; not a better.
Did I say, better?
Brut. If you did, I care not.
Caf. When Cæsar liv'd, he durst not thus have mov'd me,
Brut. Peace, Peace, you durst not fo have tempted him.
Caf. I durst not !
Cal. What! durst not tempt him?-
Cal. Do not presume too much upon my Love;
I may do that I shall be sorry for.
Brut. You have done that, you should be sorry for.
There is no Terror, Caffius, in your Threats;
For I am arm’d so strong in Honesty,
That they pass by me, as the idle Wind,
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain Sums of Gold, which you deny'd me;
For I can raise no Money by vile Means;
By Heaven, I had rather coin my Heart,
And drop my Blood for Drachma's, than to wring
From the hard Hands of Peasants their vile Trash,
By any Indirection. I did fend
To you for Gold to pay my Legions,
Which you deny'd me; was that done like Cajius?
Should I have answer’d Caius Cassius 10?
When Marcus Brutus grows
To lock such rascal Counters from his Friends,
Be ready, Gods, with all your Thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces.
Caf. I deny'd you not.
Brut. You did.
Cf. I did not he was but a Fool,
That brought my Answer back -- Brutus hath riv'd my Heart,
A Friend should bear a Friend's Infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are,
Bru!. I do not. Still you practise them on me,
Caf. You love me not.
Brut. I do not like your Faults.
Caf. A friendly Eye could never see such Faults.
Brut. A Flatt'rer's would not, tho' they do appear
As huge as high Olympus.
Caf. Come, Anthony, and young Oktavius, come;
Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,
For Casius is a-weary of the World ;
Hated by one he loves; braved by his Brother ;
Check'd like a Bondman; all his Faults observ'd ;
Set in a Note-Book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To cast into my Teeth. O I could weep
My Spirit from 'mine Eyes !—There is my Dagger,
And here my naked Breaft-within, a Heart
Dearer than Plutus' Mine, richer than Gold;
If that thou need'st a Roman's, take it forth.
1, that deny'd thee Gold, will give my Heart;
Strike as thou didst at Cæfar; for I know,
When thou didst hate hiin worst, thou lov’dft him better
Than ever thou lov’dft Caffius.
Brut. Sheath your Dagger ;
Be angry when you will, it shall have Scope ;
Do what you will, Dishonour shall be Humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a Lamb,
That carries Anger, as the Flint bears Fire ;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hasty Spark,
And straight is cold again.
Caf. Hath Callius liv'd
To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
When Grief, and Blood ill-temper’d, vexeth him?
Brut. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confefs fo much? Give me your Hand.
Caf. O Brutus !
Brut. What's the matter?
Caf. Have you not Love enough to bear with me,
When that rath Humour, which my Mother gave me,
Makes me forgetful?
Brut. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
He'll think, your Mother chides, and pass it by.
The Folly of ExTRAVAGANCE. Being several Scenes from Timon of Athens, somewhat altered,
and thrown into one.
Enter Flavius the Steward, with Bills in his Hand, and
several Creditors following him.
O Care, no Stop ! so thoughtless of Expence,
That he will neither know how to maintain it, Nor cease his Flow of Riot. Takes no account How Things go from him, nor has any Care Of what is to continue. He'll not hear, Till strong Necessity Mall make him feel. What can be done? You must be round with him; he now comes from Hunting.
s Creditor. My Lord, here is a Note of certain Dues.
Timon. Dues whence are you?
i Cred. Of Athens here, my Lord.
Tim. Go to my Steward.
' Cred. Please your Lordship, he hath put my off
To the Succession of new Days, this Month :
My Master is now urg'd by great Occasion,
To call in what's his own, and humbly prays
That with your other noble Parts you'll suit,
In giving him his Right.
Tim. Mine honest Friend,
I pr’ythee but repair to me to-morrow,
1 Cred. Nay, good my Lord
Tim. Contain thyself, good Friend.
2 Cred. One Varro's Servant, my good Lord —
3 Cred. From Ifidore, he prays your speedy Payment
i Cred. If you did know, 'my Lord, my Master's Wants
2 Cred. 'Twas due on Forfeiture fox Weeks, and past
3 Cred. Your Steward puts me off, my Lord, and I Am fent exprefly to your Lordship.
Tim. Give me Breath. Come hither, Flavias. How goes the World, than I am thus encounter'd With Claims of long-paft Debts, of broken Bonds,
And the Detention of Men's lawful Rights,
Against my Honour?
Flav. Please you Gentlemen,
The Time is unagreeable to this Business ;
Your Importunity cease, till after Dinner,
That I may make his Lordship understand
Wherefore you are not paid.
Tim. Do so, my
Come, Flavius, let me know, wherefore ere this,
You have not fully laid my State before me?
That I might so have rated my Expence,
As I had leave of Means.
Flav. O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my Accounts,
Laid them before you: You would throw them off,
And say, you found them in mine Honesty.
When for some trifling Present, you have bid me
Return fo much, I've shook my Head, and wept:
Yea, ’gainst th’ Authority of Manners, pray'd you
hand inore close.
My dear-lov'd Lord,
Tho' now you hear too late, even at this time
The greatest of your Having lacks a half
To pay your present Debts.
Tim. Let all my Land be sold.
Flav. 'Tis all engag'd; some forfeited, and gone:
And what remains will hardly stop the Mouth
Of present Dues; the future comes apace;
What shall defend the interim, and at length
Hold good our Reckoning?
Tim. To Lacedæmon did my Land extend.
Flav. O, my good Lord, the World is but a Word;
Were it all yours, to give it in a Breath,
How quickly were it gone!
Tim. You tell me true.
Flav. If you suspect my Husbandry, or Truth,
Call me before the Auditors,
And set ine on the Proofs. So the Gods bless
Flav. Heavens ! have I faid, from the Bounty of this Lord,
How many prodigal Bits have Slaves and Peasants
This Night englutted? Who now is not Timon's?
What Heart, Head, Sword, Force, Means, but is Lord
Great Timon's ! noble, werthy, royal Timon's ! (Timon's ?
Ah! when the Means are gone, that buy this Praise,
The Breath is gone whereof this Praise is made :
One Cloud of Winter Showers,
These Flies are coucht.
Tim. Come, sermon me no farther.
Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the Conscience lack,
To think I shall lack Friends ? Secure thy Heart,
If I would broach the Vessels of
And try the Gratitude of Friends by borrowing,
Men and their Wealth could I as frankly use,
As I could bid thee speak.
Flav. Assurance bless your Thoughts !
Tim. Nay, in some fort these Wants of mine are crown'd, And I account them Blessings; for by these Shall I try Friends. You shall perceive how you Miftake my Fortunes : In my Friends I'm wealthy. Within there, ho !
[Enter three Servants. I will dispatch you severally. You to Lord Lucius—to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his Honour to-day—you to Sempronius — commend me to their Loves; and I am proud, say, that my Occasions have found time to use 'em toward a Supply of Money ; let the Request be fifty Talents.
[Exeunt the Servants,
Go you, Sir, to the Senators;
Of whom, for Service done the State, I have
Deserv'd this Hearing; bid 'em send o'th' instant
A thousand Talents to me.
Flav. I've been bold,
(For that I knew it the most general way)
To them to use your Signet and your Name;
But they do thake their
Heads, and I am here
No richer in return,
Tim. Is it true? Can it be?
Flav. They answer in a joint and corporate Voice,
That now they are at Ebb, want Treasure, cannot
Do what they wou'd ; are sorry--you are honourable-
But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-
Something hath been amiss-
Would all were well-'uis pity-