LUCILIUS.
Here, at your lordship’s service.
OLD ATHENIAN.
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.
TIMON.
Well, what further?
OLD ATHENIAN.
One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got.
The maid is fair, o’ th’ youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love. I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.
TIMON.
The man is honest.
OLD ATHENIAN.
Therefore he will be, Timon.
His honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.
TIMON.
Does she love him?
OLD ATHENIAN.
She is young and apt.
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity’s in youth.
TIMON.
[To Lucilius.] Love you the maid?
LUCILIUS.
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.