1 Do you obserue this Hostilius?
2 I, to well
1 Why this is the worlds soule,
And iust of the same peece
Is euery Flatterers sport: who can call him his Friend
That dips in the same dish? For in my knowing
Timon has bin this Lords Father,
And kept his credit with his purse:
Supported his estate, nay Timons money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne're drinkes,
But Timons Siluer treads vpon his Lip,
And yet, oh see the monstrousnesse of man,
When he lookes out in an vngratefull shape;
He does deny him (in respect of his)
What charitable men affoord to Beggers
3 Religion grones at it
1 For mine owne part, I neuer tasted Timon in my life
Nor came any of his bounties ouer me,
To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest,
For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue,
And Honourable Carriage,
Had his necessity made vse of me,
I would haue put my wealth into Donation,
And the best halfe should haue return'd to him,
So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue,
Men must learne now with pitty to dispence,
For Policy sits aboue Conscience.
Exeunt.
Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another of Timons Friends.
Semp. Must he needs trouble me in't? Hum.
'Boue all others?
He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus,
And now Ventidgius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem'd from prison. All these
Owes their estates vnto him
Ser. My Lord,
They haue all bin touch'd, and found Base-Mettle,
For they haue all denied him
Semp. How? Haue they deny'de him?
Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny'de him,
And does he send to me? Three? Humh?
It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him.
Must I be his last Refuge? His Friends (like Physitians)
Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th' Cure vpon me?
Has much disgrac'd me in't, I'me angry at him,
That might haue knowne my place. I see no sense for't,
But his Occasions might haue wooed me first:
For in my conscience, I was the first man
That ere receiued guift from him.
And does he thinke so backwardly of me now,
That Ile requite it last? No:
So it may proue an Argument of Laughter
To th' rest, and 'mong'st Lords be thought a Foole:
I'de rather then the worth of thrice the summe,
Had sent to me first, but for my mindes sake:
I'de such a courage to do him good. But now returne,
And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne;
Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.
Exit