Here's to my love !-[Drinks.] O, true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies. TIMON OF ATHENS. ACT I. PAINTING. THE painting is almost the natural man; THE PLEASURE OF DOING GOOD. O, you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for them: and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! АСТ II. A FAITHFUL STEWARD. So the gods bless me, When all our officest have been oppress'd * Pictures have no hypocrisy; they are what they profess to be. The apartments allotted to culinary offices, &c. With riotous feeders; when our vaults have wept INGRATITUDE. They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would; are sorry-you are honour able, But yet they could have wish'd-they know not- And so, intending‡ other serious matters, ACT III. THE MISERABLE SHIFTS OF INGRATITUDE. Ser. My honoured lord, [TO LUCIUS. Luc. Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: Commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend. Ser. May it please your honour, my lord hath sent Luc. Ha! what has he sent? I am so much en *A pipe with a turning stopple running to waste. Intending, had anciently the same meaning as attending. A half cap is a cap slightly moved, not put off. HH S deared to that lord; he's ever sending: How shall I thank him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? Ser. He has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents. Luc. I know, his lordship is but merry with me; He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents. Ser. But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. If his occasion were not virtuous*, I should not urge it half so faithfully. Luc. Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? Luc. What a wicked beast was I, to disfurnish myself against such a good time, when I might have shown myself honourable? how unluckily it happened, that I should purchase the day before for a little part, and undo a great deal of honour ;-Servilius, now before the gods, I am not able to do't; the more beast, I say:-I was sending to use lord Timon myself, these gentlemen can witness; but I would not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done it now. Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I hope, his honour will conceive the fairest of me, because I have no power to be kind: And tell him this from me, I count it one of my greatest afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? Ser. Yes, sir, I shall. Luc. I will look you out a good turn, Servilius.— [Exit SERVILIUS. *"If he did not want it for a good use." True, as you said, Timon is shrunk, indeed; AGAINST DUELLING. Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling The worst that man can breathe; and make his wrongs His outsides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly; ACT IV. TIMON'S EXECRATION OF THE ATHENIANS. SCENE. Without the Walls of Athens. Let me look back upon thee, O thou wall, That girdlest in those wolves! Dive in the earth, And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! Obedience fail in children! slaves, and fools, Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, And minister in their steads! to general filths* Convert o'the instant green virginity! Do't in your parent's eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; Rather than render back, out with your knives, And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law! maid, to thy master's bed; *Common sewers. Thy mistress is o'the brothel! son of sixteen, On Athens, ripe for stroke! thou cold sciatica, A FRIEND FORSAKEN. As we do turn our backs crop From our companion, thrown into his grave; Slink all away; leave their false vows with him, With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, ON GOLD. Earth, yield me roots! [Digging. * i. e. Contrarieties, whose nature it is to waste or destroy each other. For libertinism. |