Upon his debts, and take down th' interest Into their gluttonous maws. You do yourselves but wrong,

To stir me up; let me pass quietly:

Believe't, my lord and I have made an end;
I have no more to reckon, he to spend.

Luc. Serv. Ay, but this answer will not serve. Flav. If 'twill not, "Tis not so base as you; for you serve knaves. [Exit. 1 Var. Serv. How! what does his cashier'd wor+ ship mutter?

2 Var. Serv. No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? such may rail against great buildings.

Enter SERVILIUS.3

Tit. O, here's Servilius; now we shall know Some answer.

Ser. If I might beseech you, gentlemen To repair some other hour, I should much Derive from it: for, take it on my soul, My lord leans wond'rously to discontent. His comfortable temper has forsook him;

He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber. Luc. Serv. Many do keep their chambers, are not sick:

And, if it be so far beyond his health,

Methinks, he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a clear way to the gods.

Ser.

Good gods! Tit. We cannot take this for an answer, sir. Flam. [Within.] Servilius, help!-my lord! my ford!

3 Enter Servilius.] It may be observed that Shakspeare has unskilfully filled his Greek story with Roman names. JOHNSON.

Enter TIMON, in a rage; FLAMINIUS following. Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my passage?

Have I been ever free, and must my house
Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?

The place, which I have feasted, does it now,
Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
Luc. Serv. Put in now, Titus.
Tit. My lord, here is my bill.
Luc. Serv. Here's mine.

Hor. Serv. And mine, my lord.

Both Var. Serv. And ours, my lord.

Phi. All our bills.

4

Tim. Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to

the girdle.

Luc. Serv. Alas! my lord,

Tim. Cut my heart in sums.

Tit. Mine, fifty talents.

Tim. Tell out my blood.

Luc. Serv. Five thousand crowns, my lord,

Tim. Five thousand drops pays that.

What yours?—and yours?

1 Var. Serv. My lord,

2 Var. Serv. My lord,

Tim. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon

you!

[Exit. Hor. 'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money; these debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

[Exeunt.

Knock me down with 'em:] Timon quibbles. They present their written bills; he catches at the word, and alludes to the bills or battle-axes, which the ancient soldiery carried, and were still used by the watch in Shakspeare's time.

Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS.

Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves:

Creditors!-devils.

Flav. My dear lord,

Tim. What if it should be so?

Flav. My lord,——

Tim. I'll have it so:-My steward!

friends again,

Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius; all:
I'll once more feast the rascals.

Flav.
O my lord,
You only speak from your distracted soul;
There is not so much left, to furnish out
A moderate table.

Tim.

Be't not in thy care; go,

1 charge thee; invite them all: let in the tide
Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide.

[Exeunt

SCENE V.

The same. The Senate-House.

The Senate sitting. Enter ALCIBIADES, attended. - 1 Sen. My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die:

Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

2 Sen. Most true; the law shall bruise him. Alcib. Honour, health, and compassion to the

senate!

1 Sen. Now, captain?

Alcib. I am an humble suitor to For pity is the virtue of the law,

your

virtues;

And none but tyrants use it cruelly.

It pleases time, and fortune, to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
To those that, without heed, do plunge into it.
He is a man, setting his fate aside,

Of comely virtues:

5

Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice;
(An honour in him, which buys out his fault,)
But, with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe:

And with such sober and unnoted passion
He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent,'
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

1 Sen. You undergo too strict a paradox,7 Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:

Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring manslaughter into form, set quarrelling,
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world
When sects and factions were newly born:
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer

The worst that man can breathe; and make his

wrongs

His outsides; wear them like his raiment, carelessly;

setting his fate aside,] i. e. putting this action of his, which was pre-determined by fate, out of the question.

6 And with such sober and unnoted passion

He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, &c.] The sense of this passage, (however perversely expressed on account of rhyme,) may be this: "He managed his anger with such sober and unnoted passion [i. e. suffering, forbearance,] before it was spent, [i. e. before that disposition to endure the insult he had received, was exhausted,] that it seemed as if he had been only engaged in supporting an argument he had advanced in conversation.

You undergo too strict a paradox,] You undertake a paradox too hard.

8

that man can breathe,] i. e. can utter.

And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill,
What folly 'tis, to hazard life for ill?
Alcib. My lord,-

1 Sen. You cannot make gross sins look clear; To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

Alcib. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, If I speak like a captain.

Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threatnings? sleep upon it,
And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
Without repugnancy? but if there be
Such valour in the bearing, what make we
Abroad? why then, women are more valiant,
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;

And th' ass, more captain than the lion; the felon,
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge,

If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,

As you are great,' be pitifully good:

Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?

To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;1

But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.

To be in anger, is impiety;

But who is man, that is not angry?
Weigh but the crime with this.

2 Sen. You breathe in vain.
Alcib.

In vain his service done

At Lacedæmon, and Byzantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life.

1 Sen. What's that?

what make we

Abroad?] What do we, or what have we to do in the field? sin's extremest gust;] Gust means rashness. The allusion may be to a sudden gust of wind. So we say, it was done in a sudden gust of passion.

2

by mercy, 'tis most just.] i. e. I call mercy herself to witness, that defensive violence is just. JOHNSON.