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. 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 dues.
TIMON
Dues! Whence are you?
CAPHIS
Of Athens here, my lord.
TIMON
Go to my steward.
CAPHIS
Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new days this month:
My master is awaked by great occasion
To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
That with your other noble parts you'll suit
In giving him his right.
TIMON
Mine honest friend,
I prithee, but repair to me next morning.
CAPHIS
Nay, good my lord,--
TIMON
Contain thyself, good friend.
Varro's Servant
One Varro's servant, my good lord,--
Isidore's Servant
From Isidore;
He humbly prays your speedy payment.
CAPHIS
If you did know, my lord, my master's wants--
Varro's Servant
'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks and past.
Isidore's Servant
Your steward puts me off, my lord;
And I am sent expressly to your lordship.
TIMON
Give me breath.
I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
I'll wait upon you instantly.
Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords
[To FLAVIUS]
Come hither: pray you,
How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd
With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds,
And the detention of long-since-due debts,
Against my honour?
FLAVIUS
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.
TIMON
Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd.
Exit
FLAVIUS
Pray, draw near.
Exit
Enter APEMANTUS and Fool
CAPHIS
Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus:
Let's ha' some sport with 'em.
Varro's Servant
Hang him, he'll abuse us.
Isidore's Servant
A plague upon him, dog!
Varro's Servant
How dost, fool?
|
