“Let us hang him up,” said another.
“Let us sell him into captivity,” said a third.
“Nay, friends,” said the bland gentleman, “such confession of error would impeach our credit as statesmen. Moreover, should the people learn that Timon has lost his money, they will naturally conclude that we have taken it. Let us, therefore, keep this misfortune from their knowledge, and trust for relief to the chapter of accidents, as usual in State affairs.”
They therefore robed Timon in a dress of honour, and conducted him to Athens, where half the inhabitants were awaiting him. Two triumphal arches spanned the principal street, and on one was inscribed “Timon the Benefactor,” and on the other “Timon the Friend of Humanity.” And all along, far as the eye could reach, stood those whom his bounty, as was stated, had rescued from perdition, the poor he had relieved, the sick he had medicined, the orphans he had fathered, the poets and painters he had patronised, all lauding and thanking him, and soliciting a continuance of his liberality. And the rabble cried “Largesse, largesse!” and horsemen galloped forth, casting among them nuts enveloped in silver-leaf and apples and comfits and trinkets and brass farthings in incredible quantities. At which the people murmured somewhat, and spoke amiss respecting Timon and the senators who escorted him, and the bland gentleman strove to keep Timon between himself and the populace. While Timon was pondering what the end of these things should be, his mob encountered another cheering for Alcibiades, and playing pitch and toss with drachmas and didrachmas and tetradrachmas, yea, even with staters and darics.
“Long live Alcibiades,” cried Timon’s followers, as they attacked Alcibiades’s supporters to get their share.
“Long live Timon,” cried Alcibiades’s party, as they defended themselves.
Timon and Alcibiades extricated themselves from the scuffle, and walked away arm in arm.
“My dear friend,” said Timon, “how inexpressibly beholden I am to you for taking the burden of my wealth upon yourself! There is nothing I would not do to evince my gratitude.”
“Nothing?” queried Alcibiades.
“Nothing,” persisted Timon.