1 Var. Serv. By your leave, sir,-
Flav. What do you ask of me, my friend?
Tit. We wait for certain money here, sir.
Flav.
Ay,

If money were as certain as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough. Why then preferr'd 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 th' 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.

Luc. Serv. Ay, but this answer will not serve. Flav. If 'twill not, "Tis not so base as you; for you serve knaves.

[Exit. 1 Var. Serv. How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter?

2 Var. Serv. 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.

Enter Servilius.

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

Ser. If I might beseech you, gentlemen, To repair some other hour, I should much Derive from it: for, take it on my soul, My lord leans wond'rously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him ;

He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber. Luc. Serv. 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.

Ser.

Good gods!

Tit. We cannot take this for an answer, sir.
Flam. [Within.] Servilius, help!-my lord! my
lord!-

Enter Timon, in a rage; Flaminius following.
Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd 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?
Luc. Serv. Put in now, Titus.

Tit. My lord, here is my bill.
Luc. Serv. Here's mine.

Hor. Serv. And mine, my lord.

Both Var. Ser. And ours, my lord.

Phi. All our bills.

Tim. Knock me down with 'em*: cleave me to

the girdle.

Luc. Serv. Alas! my lord,

Tim. Cut my heart in sums.

Tit. Mine, fifty talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood.

Luc. Serv. Five thousand crowns, my lord.
Tim. Five thousand drops pays that.-

What's yours?-and yours?

1 Var. Serv. My lord,

2 Var. Serv. My lord,

Tim. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon

you! [Exit. Hor. '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.

Re-enter Timon and Flavius.

[Exeunt.

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

Timon quibbles. They present their written bills; he catches at the word, and alludes to bills or battle-axes.

Flav. My lord,

Tim. I'll have it so :-My steward!

Flav. Here, my lord.

Tim. So fitly? Go bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius; all:

I'll once more feast the rascals.

Flav.
O my lord,
You only speak from your distracted soul;
There is not so much left, to furnish out
A moderate table.

Tim.

Be't not in thy care; go,

I charge thee; invite them all: let in the tide Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide, [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The same. The Senate-House.

The Senate sitting. Enter Alcibiades, attended.

1 Sen. My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's

Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die :

Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

2 Sen. Most true; the law shall bruise him. Alcib. Honour, health, and compassion to the senate !

1 Sen. Now, captain?

Alcib. I am an humble suitor to your virtues; For pity is the virtue of the law,

And none but tyrants use it cruelly.

It pleases time, and fortune, to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed, do plunge into it.

He is a man, setting his fate aside*,

Of comely virtues :

Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice;

(An honour in him which buys out his fault,)
But, with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe:

And with such sober and unnoted passion t
He did behave † his anger, ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

1 Sen. You undergo too strict a paradox §, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:

Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When sects and factions were newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer

The worst that man can breathe; and make his

wrongs

His outsides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly; And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,

To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis, to hazard life for ill?
Alcib. My lord,-

1 Sen. You cannot make gross sins look clear; To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

Alcib. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, If I speak like a captain.

Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threat'nings? sleep upon it,
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, women are more valiant,

* i. e. Putting this action of his, which was pre-determined by fate, out of the question.

+i. e. Passion so subdued, that no spectator could note its operation. Manage, govern. § You undertake a paradox too hard.

What have we to do in the field?

That stay at home, if bearing carry it;

And the ass, more captain than the lion; the felon,
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge,

If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good :

Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust*;
But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just †.
To be in anger, is impiety;

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

2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Alcib.

In vain his service done

At Lacedæmon, and Byzantium, Were a sufficient briber for his life. 1 Sen. What's that?

Alcib.

Why, I say, my lords, h'as

done fair service,

And slain in fight many of your enemies:
How full of valour did he bear himself

In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
2 Sen. He has made too much plenty with 'em, he
Is a sworn rioter: h'as a sin that often

Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner :
If there were no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him: in that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions: "Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous.
1 Sen. He dies.

Alcib. Hard fate! he might have died in war.
My lords, if not for any parts in him

(Though his right arm might purchase his own

time,

And be in debt to none,) yet, more to move you,
Take my deserts to his, and join them both:

And, for I know, your reverend ages love

*For aggravation.

+Homicide in our own defence, by a merciful interpretation of the law, is considered justifiable.'