FLAVIUS

My Lord. Yes, my Lord. More Jewels yet? There is no crossing him in's humour, Else I should tell him well, y faith I should; When all's spent, hee'ld be crossed then, and he could: It's pity Bounty had not eyes behind, That man might never be wretched for his mind. I beseech your Honour, vouchsafe me a word, it does concern you near. I scarce know how. What will this come to? He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, and all out of and 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 ows 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, Then such that do e'ne Enemies exceed. I bleed inwardly for my Lord. 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 resume 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. Please you Gentlemen, The time is unagreeable to this business: Your importunacy cease, till after dinner, That I may make his Lordship understand Wherefore you are not paid. Pray draw near. Pray you walk en ere, I'll speak with you anon. You would not hear me: At many leisures I propose. Oh my good Lord, At many times I brought in my accounts, Laid them before you, you would throw them off, And say you found them in mine honesty, When for some trifling present you have bid me Return so much, I have shook my head, and wept: Yea against the Authority of manners, prayed you To hold your hand more close: I did endure Not seldom, nor no flight checks, when I have Prompted you in the ebb of your estate, And your great flow of debts; my loved Lord, Though you hear now (too late) yet nowes a time, The greatest of your having, lacks a half, To pay your present debts. It's all engaged, some forfeited and gone, And what remains will hardly stop the mouth Of present dues; the future comes apace: What shall defend the interim, and at length How goes our reckoning? Oh my good Lord, the world is but a word, Were it all yours, to give it in a breath, How quickly were it gone. If you suspect my Husbandry or Falsehood, Call me before the exactest Auditors, And set me on the proof. So the Gods bless me, When all our Offices have been oppressed With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults have wept With drunken spilth of Wine; when every room Hath blazed with Lights, and braid with Minstrelsy, I have retired me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow. Heavens have I said the bounty of this Lord: How many prodigal bits have Slaves and Peasants This night englutted: who is not Timon's, What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is L. Timon's : Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royal Timon : Ah, when the means are gone, that buy this praise, The breath is gone, whereof this praise is made: Feast wone, fast lost; one cloud of Winter showers, These flies are couched. Lord Lucius and Lucullus ? Humh. They answer in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fallen, want Treature cannot Do what they would, are sorry: you are Honourable, But yet they could have wished, they know not, Something hath been amiss; a Noble Nature May catch a wrench; would all were well; 'tis pity, And so intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks; and these hard Fractions With certain halfe-caps, and cold moving nods, They froze me into Silence. I would I could not think it: That thought is Bounties Foe; Being free it self, it thinks all others so. What do you ask of me, my Friend. I, if Money were as certain as your waiting, 'Twere sure enough. Why then preferred you not your sums and Bills When your false Master's eat of my Lords meat? Then they could smile, and fawn upon his debts. And take down the Interest into their gluttonous Maws. You do your selves but wrong, to stir me up, Let me pass quietly: Beleeue't, my Lord and I have made and end, I have no more to reckon, he to spend. If't it'll not serve, it's not so base as you, For you serve Knaves. My deer Lord. My Lord. Here my Lord. Oh my Lord, you only speak from your distra cted soul; there's not so much left to, furnish out a more derate Table. Alack my Fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods, I am as poor as you. All broken Implements of a ruined house. Good Fellows all, The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. Where ever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, Let's yet be Fellows. Let's shake our heads, and say As 'twere a Knell unto our Master's Fortune's, We have seen better days. Let each take some: Nay put out all your hands: Not one word more, Thus partly we rich in sorrow, parting poor. O the fierce wretchedness that Glory brings us! Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt? Who would be so mocked with Glory, or to live But in a Dream of Friendship, To have his pomp, and all what state compounds, But only painted Like his varnished Friends: Poor honest Lord, brought low by his own heart, Undone by Goodness: Strange unusual blood, When men worst sin is, He do's too much Good. Who then dares to be half so kind again? For Bounty that makes Gods, do still mar Men. My dearest Lord, blessed to be most accursed, Rich only to be wretched; thy great Fortune's Are made thy chief Afflictions. Alas (kind Lord) He's flung in Rage from this ingrateful Seat Of monstrous Friends: Nor ha he with him to supply his life, Or that which can command it: I'll follow and inquire him out. I'll ever serve his mind, with my best will, While I have Gold, I'll be his Steward still. O you Gods! Is yoned despised and ruinous man my Lord? Full of decay and failing? O Monument And wonder of good deeds, evilly bestowed! What and alteration of Honour has desperate want made? What vilder thing upon the earth, then Friends, Who can bring Noblest minds, to basest ends. How rarely does it meet with this times guise, When man was wished to love his Enemies: Grant I may ever love, and rather woo Those that would mischief me, then those that do. Has caught me in his eye, I will present my honest grief unto him; and as my Lord, still serve him with my life. My dearest Master. Have you forgotten me, Sir? And honest poor servant of yours. The Gods are witness, Never did poor Steward wear a truer grief For his undone Lord, then mine eyes for you. I beg of you to know me, good my Lord, to accept my grief, and whilst this poor wealth lasts, To entertain me as your Steward still. No my most worthy Master, in whose breast Doubt, and suspect (alas) are placed too late: You should have feared false times, when you did Feast. Suspect still comes, where and estate is least. That which I show, Heaven knows, is merely Love, Duty, and Zeal, to your unmatched mind; Care of your Food and Living, and believe it, My most Honoured Lord, For any benefit that points to me, Either in hope, or present, I'de exchange For this one wish, that you had power and wealth To requite me, by making rich your self. Oh let me stay, and comfort you, my Master. It is vain that you would speak with Timon : For he is set so only to himself, That nothing but himself, which looks Like man, Is friendly with him. Here is his Cave: Peace and content be here. Lord Timon, Timon, Look out, and speak to Friends: the Athenians By two of their most reverend Senate greet thee: Speak to them Noble Timon. Stay not, all's in vain. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall Find him. Assurance bless your thoughts. I have been bold (For that I knew it the most general way) To them, to use your Signet, and your Name, But they do shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return.