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Servant Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds. Timon

I’ll hunt with him; and let them be received,
Not without fair reward.

Flavius

Aside. What will this come to?
He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
And all out of an empty coffer:
Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good:
His promises fly so beyond his state
That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
For every word: he is so kind that he now
Pays interest for’t; his land’s put to their books.
Well, would I were gently put out of office
Before I were forced out!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed
Than such that do e’en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord. Exit.

Timon

You do yourselves
Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

Second Lord With more than common thanks I will receive it. Third Lord O, he’s the very soul of bounty! Timon

And now I remember, my lord, you gave
Good words the other day of a bay courser
I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it.

Second Lord O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. Timon

You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man
Can justly praise but what he does affect:
I weigh my friend’s affection with mine own;
I’ll tell you true. I’ll call to you.

All Lords O, none so welcome. Timon

I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart, ’tis not enough to give;
Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne’er be weary. Alcibiades,
Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich;
It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living
Is ’mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch’d field.

Alcibiades Ay, defiled land, my lord. First Lord We are so virtuously bound⁠— Timon

And so
Am I to you.

Second Lord So infinitely endear’d⁠— Timon All to you. Lights, more lights! First Lord

The best of happiness,
Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!

Timon Ready for his friends. Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon. Apemantus

What a coil’s here!
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for ’em. Friendship’s full of dregs:
Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court’sies.

Timon

Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen,
I would be good to thee.

Apemantus No, I’ll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and vain-glories? Timon Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come with better music. Exit. Apemantus

So:
Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
I’ll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men’s ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery. Exit.

Act II Scene I

A Senator’s house.

Enter Senator, with papers in his hand. Senator

And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar’s dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
And able horses. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!

Enter Caphis. Caphis Here, sir; what is your pleasure? Senator

Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon;
Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
With slight denial, nor then silenced when⁠—
“Commend me to your master”⁠—and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,
But must not break my back to heal his finger;
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be toss’d and turn’d to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.

Caphis I go, sir. Senator

“I go, sir!”⁠—take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in contempt.

Caphis I will, sir. Senator Go. Exeunt. Scene II

The same. A hall in Timon’s house.

Enter Flavius, with many bills in his hand. Flavius

No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,
Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account
How things go from him, nor resumes no care
Of what is to continue: never mind
Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fie, fie, fie, fie!

Enter Caphis, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro. Caphis

Good even, Varro: what,
You come for money?

Varro’s Servant Is’t not your business too? Caphis It is: and yours too, Isidore? Isidore’s Servant It is so. Caphis Would we were all discharged! Varro’s Servant I fear it. Caphis Here comes the lord. Enter Timon, Alcibiades, and Lords, etc. Timon

So soon as dinner’s done, we’ll forth again,
My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will?

Caphis My lord, here is a note of certain
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