Tim. I will dispatch you seuerally. You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me to their loues; and I am proud say, that my occasions haue found time to vse 'em toward a supply of mony: let the request be fifty Talents
Flam. As you haue said, my Lord
Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh
Tim. Go you sir to the Senators; Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue Deseru'd this Hearing: bid 'em send o'th' instant A thousand Talents to me
Ste. I haue beene bold (For that I knew it the most generall way) To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name, But they do shake their heads, and I am heere No richer in returne
Tim. Is't true? Can't be? Stew. They answer in a ioynt and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want Treasure cannot Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable, But yet they could haue wisht, they know not, Something hath beene amisse; a Noble Nature May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty, And so intending other serious matters, After distastefull lookes; and these hard Fractions With certaine halfe-caps, and cold mouing nods, They froze me into Silence
Tim. You Gods reward them: Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary: Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it sildome flowes, 'Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde; And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth, Is fashion'd for the iourney, dull and heauy. Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad, Thou art true, and honest; Ingeniously I speake, No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately Buried his Father, by whose death hee's stepp'd Into a great estate: When he was poore, Imprison'd, and in scarsitie of Friends, I cleer'd him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me, Bid him suppose, some good necessity Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred With those fiue Talents; that had, giue't these Fellowes To whom 'tis instant due. Neu'r speake, or thinke, That Timons fortunes 'mong his Friends can sinke
Stew. I would I could not thinke it: That thought is Bounties Foe; Being free it selfe, it thinkes all others so.
Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a seruant to him.
Ser. I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down to you
Flam. I thanke you Sir. Enter Lucullus.
Ser. Heere's my Lord
Luc. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant. Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie respectiuely welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and Mayster? Flam. His health is well sir
Luc. I am right glad that his health is well sir: and what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius? Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to supply: who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: nothing doubting your present assistance therein
Luc. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold embrace no counsell, take no warning by my comming, euery man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't, but I could nere get him from't. Enter Seruant with Wine.