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Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner, my lord, which bears that office to fignify their pleasures. Tim. I pray, let them be admitted.

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Enter Cupid with a Mafque of Ladies, as Amazons.
AIL to thee, worthy Timon, and to all

1 Cup.

H

That of his bounties tafte! the five beft
Senfes

Acknowledge thee their patron; and do come
Freely to gratulate thy plenteous bofom:

Th' Ear, Tafte, Touch, Smell, pleas'd from thy Table rise,

These only now come but to feast thine eyes.

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Tim. They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance,

Let mufic make their welcome.

Luc. You fee, my lord, how amply you're belov'd. Apem. Hoyday! what a fweep of vanity comes this way!

They dance, they a

are mad women.
* Like madness, is the glory of this life;
As this pomp fhews to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourfelves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men,
Upon whofe age we void it up again,
With poisonous fpight and envy—
Who lives, that's not depraved or depraves?
Who dies that bears not one spurn to their
Of their friends' gift?-

graves

I should fear, thofe, that dance before me now,

The glory of this Life is very near to madness, as may be made appear from this Pomp exhibited in a Place where a Philofopher is feeding on Oil and Roots. When we fee by Example how few are the Neceffaries of Life, we learn what madness there is in fo much Superfluity.

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Johnfon.
Would

Would one day stamp upon me: 'Thas been done Men fhut their doors against the fetting fun.

The Lords rife from table, with much adoring of Timon; each fingling out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women; a lofty firain or two to the hautboys, and ceafe.

Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,

Set a fair fafhion on our entertainment,

Which was not half fo beautiful and kind:
You've added worth unto't, and lively luftre,
And entertain'd me with mine own device.
I am to thank you for it.

Luc. My lord, you take us even at the best. Apem. Faith, for the worft is filthy, and would not hold taking, I doubt me.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you. Please you to difpofe yourfelves.

All La. Moft thankfully, my lord.

Tim. Flavius

Flav. My lord.

Tim. The little casket bring me hither.

[Exeunt.

Flav. Yes, my lord. More jewels yet? there is no croffing him in's humour,

Elfe I fhould tell him-well-i'faith, I should,
When all's spent, he'd be crofs'd then if he could:
Tis pity, Bounty has not eyes behind;

That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.
Lucul. Where be our men?

Serv. Here, my lord, in readiness.

Luc. Our Horfes.

Tim. O my good friends!

I have one word to fay to you; look, my lord,
I must entreat you, honour me fo much

As to advance this jewel, accept and wear it,

Kind my lord!

Luc. I am fo far already in your gifts-
All. So are we all.
[Exe. Lucius, Lucullus, &c.
SCENE

SCENE VII.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. MY lord, there are certain nobles of the Senate newly alighted, and come to vifit you.

Tim. They are fairly welcome.

Re-enter Flavius.

Flav. I beseech your Honour, vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.

Tim. Me near? Why then another time I'll hear thee.

I pr'ythee, let's be provided to shew them entertain

ment.

Flav. I fcarce know how.

Enter another Servant.

2 Serv. May it please your Honour, lord Lucius, out of his free love, hath presented to you four milkwhite horses trapt in filver.

Tim. I fhall accept them fairly let the Prefents Be worthily entertain'd.

Enter a third Servant.

How now? what news?

3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company tomorrow to hunt with him, and has sent your Honour two brace of grey-hounds.

Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, not without fair reward.

Flav. 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 purfe, or yield me this, To fhew him what a beggar his heart is,

Being of no power to make his wishes good;
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His

His promises fly fo beyond his ftate,

That what he fpeaks is all in debt; he owes for ev'ry word :

He is fo kind that he pays interest for't:

His land's put to their books. Well, would I were
Gently put out of office, ere I were forc'd!
Happier is he that has no friend to feed,
Than fuch that do e'en enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.

[Exit.

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

I Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive it.

3 Lord. He has the very foul of bounty.

Tim. And now I remember, my lord, you gave good words the other day of a bay courfer I rode on. 'Tis yours, because you lik'd it.

2 Lord. Oh, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord,

in that.

Tim. You may take my word, my lord: Lknow no man can juftly praise, but what he does affect. I weigh my friend's affection with my own; I tell you.

true. I'll call on you.

All Lords. O, none fo welcome.

Tim. I take all, and your several visitations

So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give

My thanks, I could deal Kingdoms to my friends, And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,

Thou art a foldier, therefore seldom rich,

It comes in charity to thee; thy living

Is 'mongst the dead; and all the lands thou haft

Lie in a pitcht field.

Alc. I defy land, my lord..

1 Lord. We are fo virtuoufly bound

Tim. And fo am I to you.

2 Lord. So infinitely endear'd

Tim. All to you. Lights! more lights, more lights.

3 Lord.

3

Lord. The best of happiness, honour and fortunes, Keep with you, lord Timon

Tim. Ready for his friends.

SCENE

Apem. W THAT a coil's here,

[Exeunt Lords.

VIII.

Serring of becks and jutting out of bums!

I doubt, whether their legs be worth the fums
That are giv'n for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs;
Methinks, falfe hearts fhould never have.found legs.
Thus honeft fools lay out their wealth on court'fies.
Tim. Now Apemantus, if thou wert not fullen,
I would be good to thee.

Apem. No, I'll nothing; for if I fhould be brib'd too, there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then thou wouldst fin the fafter. Thou giv'ft fo long, Timon, I fear me, thou wilt give away thyfelf in proper shortly. What need these feasts, pomps, and vain-glories?

Tim. Nay, if you begin to rail on fociety once, I am fworn not to give regard to you. Farewel, and come with better mufic.

Apem. So-thou wilt not hear me now, thou

fhalt not then.

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ND late, five thoufand: to Varro and to Ifidore

A He owes nine thoufand, befides my former sum; five

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