And it fhall pleafe me well. For mine own part, Caf. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus; I faid an elder Soldier; not a better. Did I fay, better? Brut. If you did, I care not. Caf. When Cæfar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd me, Brut. Peace, Peace, you durft not so have tempted him. Caf. I durft not! Brut. No. Caf. What! durft not tempt him? Brut. For your Life you durft not. Caf. Do not prefume too much upon my Love; Brut. You have done that, you fhould be forry for. That they pafs by me, as the idle Wind, For certain Sums of Gold, which you deny'd me; And drop my Blood for Drachma's, than to wring To you for Gold to pay my Legions, Which you deny'd me; was that done like Caffius? When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous To lock fuch rafcal Counters from his Friends, Dafh him to pieces. Caf. I deny'd you not. Brut. You did. Cf. I did not he was but a Fool, That brought my Anfwer back -Brutus hath riv'd my Heart, A Friend fhould bear a Friend's Infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Brut. I do not. Still you practife them on me. Caf. You love me not. Brut. I do not like your Faults. Caf. A friendly Eye could never fee fuch Faults. As huge as high Olympus. I Caf. Caf. Come, Anthony, and young Octavius, come; Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius, For Caffius is a-weary of the World; Hated by one he loves; braved by his Brother; When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dft him better Brut. Sheath your Dagger; Be angry when you will, it fhall have Scope; That carries Anger, as the Flint bears Fire; Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus, Caf. O Brutus! Brut. What's the matter? Caf. Have you not Love enough to bear with me, When that rafh Humour, which my Mother gave me, Makes me forgetful? Brut. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth. When you are over-earneft with your Brutus, He'll think, your Mother chides, and pass it by. LESSON LESSON X. The Folly of EXTRAVAGANCE. Being feveral Scenes from Timon of Athens, fomewhat altered, and thrown into one. Enter Flavius the Steward, with Bills in his Hand, and feveral Creditors following him. Flavius. N O Care, no Stop! fo thoughtlefs of Expence, Nor cease his Flow of Riot. Takes no account How Things go from him, nor has any Care You must be round with him; he now comes from Hunting. Enter Timon. Creditor. My Lord, here is a Note of certain Dues. Timon. Dues? whence are you? 1 Cred. Of Athens here, my Lord. Tim. Go to my Steward. Cred. Pleafe your Lordship, he hath put my off Tim. Mine honeft Friend, I pr'ythee but repair to me to-morrow. 1 Cred. Nay, good my Lord Tim. Contain thyself, good Friend. 2 Gred. One Varro's Servant, my good Lord 3 Cred. From Ifidore, he prays your speedy Payment 1 Cred. If you did know, my Lord, my Mafter's Wants2 Cred. "Twas due on Forfeiture fix Weeks, and past3 Cred. Your Steward puts me off, my Lord, and I Am fent exprefly to your Lordship. Tim. Give me Breath. Come hither, Flavins. How goes the World, than I am thus encounter'd With Claims of long-paft Debts, of broken Bonds, And And the Detention of Men's lawful Rights, Flav. Please you Gentlemen, The Time is unagreeable to this Bufinefs; Tim. Do fo, my Friends. [Exeunt Creditors. Come, Flavius, let me know, wherefore ere this, You have not fully laid my State before me? As I had leave of Means. Flav. O my good Lord, At many times I brought in my Accounts, When for fome trifling Prefent, you have bid me My dear-lov'd Lord, Tho' now you hear too late, even at this time To pay your prefent Debts. Tim. Let all my Land be fold. Flav. 'Tis all engag'd; fome forfeited, and gone: And what remains will hardly stop the Mouth 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 fufpect my Husbandry, or Truth, And fet me on the Proofs. So the Gods blefs me, With riotous Feeders; when our Vaults have wept And fet mine Eyes on flow. Tim. Pr'ythee, no more. Flaa. Flav. Heavens! have I faid, from the Bounty of this Lord, How many prodigal Bits have Slaves and Peafants This Night englutted? Who now is not Timon's? What Heart, Head, Sword, Force, Means, but is Lord' Ah! when the Means are gone, that buy this Praise, Thefe Flies are coucht. Tim. Come, fermon me no farther. Unwifely, not ignobly, have I given. (Timon's? Why doft thou weep? Canft thou the Conscience lack, If I would broach the Veffels of my Love, And try the Gratitude of Friends by borrowing, Men and their Wealth could I as frankly use, As I could bid thee speak. Flav. Affurance blefs your Thoughts! Tim. Nay, in fome fort thefe Wants of mine are crown'd, And I account them Bleffings; for by these Shall I try Friends. You fhall perceive how you 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, fay, that my Occafions have found time to ufe '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 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 fhake their Heads, and I am here Tim. Is it true? Can it be? Flav. They anfwer in a joint and corporate Voice, Would all were well-'tis pity And |