The Life of Tymon of Athens — Act 3 Scene 4

Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors towait for his comming out. Then enter Luciusand Hortensius.

Var. man.Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortensius

Tit.The like to you kinde Varro.

Hort.Lucius, what do we meet together?

Luci.I, and I think one businesse do's command vs all.For mine is money.

Tit.So is theirs, and ours.

Enter Philotus.

Luci.And sir Philotus too.

Phil.Good day at once.

Luci.Welcome good Brother.What do you thinke the houre?

Phil.Labouring for Nine.

Luci.So much?

Phil.Is not my Lord seene yet?

Luci.Not yet.

Phil.I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seauen.

Luci.I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him:You must consider, that a Prodigall courseIs like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare:'Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purse, that is: Onemay reach deepe enough, and yet finde little.

Phil.I am of your feare, for that.

Tit.Ile shew you how t'obserue a strange euent:Your Lord sends now for Money?

Hort.Most true, he doe's.

Tit.And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift,For which I waite for money.

Hort.It is against my heart.

Luci.Marke how strange it showes,Timon in this, should pay more then he owes:And e'ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels,And send for money for 'em.

Hort.I'me weary of this Charge,The Gods can witnesse:I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth,And now Ingratitude, makes it worse then stealth.

Varro.Yes, mine's three thousand Crownes:What's yours?

Luci.Fiue thousand mine.

Varro.'Tis much deepe, and it should seem by th'sumYour Masters confidence was aboue mine,Else surely his had equall'd.

Enter Flaminius.

Tit.One of Lord Timons men.

Luc.Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readieto come forth?

Flam.No, indeed he is not.

Tit.We attend his Lordship: pray signifie so much.

Flam.I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent.

Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

Luci.Ha: is not that his Steward muffled so?He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him.

Tit.Do you heare, sir?

2. Varro.By your leaue, sir.

Stew.What do ye aske of me, my Friend.

Tit.We waite for certaine Money heere, sir.

Stew.I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting,'Twere sure enough.Why then preferr'd you not your summes and BillesWhen your false Masters eate of my Lords meat?Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts.And take downe th'Intrest into their glutt'nous Mawes.You do your selues but wrong, to stirre me vp,Let me passe quietly:Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end,I haue no more to reckon, he to spend.

Luci.I, but this answer will not serue.

Stew.If't 'twill not serue, 'tis not so base as you,For you serue Knaues.

1. Varro.How? What does his casheer'd Worship mutter?

2. Varro.No matter what, hee's poore, and that's reuengeenough. Who can speake broader, then hee thathas no house to put his head in? Such may rayle againstgreat buildings.

Enter Seruilius.

Tit.Oh here's Seruilius: now wee shall know some answere.

Seru.If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayresome other houre, I should deriue much from't. For tak'tof my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent:His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much outof health, and keepes his Chamber.

Luci.Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke:And if it be so farre beyond his health,Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts,And make a cleere way to the Gods.

Seruil.Good Gods.

Titus.We cannot take this for answer, sir.

Flaminius within.Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.

Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim.What, are my dores oppos'd against my passage?Haue I bin euer free, and must my houseBe my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?The place which I haue Feasted, does it now(Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart?

Luci.Put in now Titus.

Tit.My Lord, heere is my Bill.

Luci.Here's mine.

1. Var.And mine, my Lord.

2. Var.And ours, my Lord.

Philo.All our Billes.

Tim.Knocke me downe with 'em, cleaue mee to the Girdle.

Luc.Alas, my Lord.

Tim.Cut my heart in summes.

Tit.Mine, fifty Talents.

Tim.Tell out my blood.

Luc.Fiue thousand Crownes, my Lord.

Tim.Fiue thousand drops payes that.What yours? and yours?

1. Var.My Lord.

2. Var.My Lord.

Tim.Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.Exit Timon.

Hort.Faith I perceiue our Masters may throwe theircaps at their money, these debts may well be call'dExeunt.desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Enter Timon.

Timon.They haue e'ene put my breath from mee theslaues. Creditors? Diuels.

Stew.My deere Lord.

Tim.What if it should be so?

Stew.My Lord.

Tim.Ile haue it so. My Steward?

Stew.Heere my Lord.

Tim.So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe,Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All,Ile once more feast the Rascals.

Stew.O my Lord, you onely speake from your distractedsoule; there's not so much left to furnish out amoderate Table.

Tim.Be it not in thy care:Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tideExeunt.Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.