Pain. 'Tis common:
A thousand moral paintings I can show,[1653]
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's[1654]
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well 95
To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen[1655]
The foot above the head.
Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from Ventidius talking with him; Lucilius and other servants following.[1656]
Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?
Mess. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt;[1657]
His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honourable letter he desires 100
To those have shut him up; which failing,[1658]
Periods his comfort.
Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well,[1659]
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he must need me. I do know him[1660]
A gentleman that well deserves a help: 105
Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him.
Mess. Your lordship ever binds him.[1657][1661]
Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me:
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, 110
But to support him after. Fare you well.
Mess. All happiness to your honour![1657][1662] [Exit.
Enter an old Athenian.
Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.