And it fhall pleafe me well. For mine own part,
I fhall be glad to learn of noble Men.

Caf. You wrong me every way-you wrong me, Brutus; I faid an elder Soldier; not a better.

Did I fay, better?

Brut. If you did, I care not.

Caf. When Cæfar liv'd, he durft not thus have mov'd me, Brut. Peace, Peace, you durft not so have tempted him. Caf. I durft not!

Brut. No.

Caf. What! durft not tempt him?

Brut. For your Life you durft not.

Caf. Do not prefume too much upon my Love;
I may do that I fhall be forry for.

Brut. You have done that, you fhould be forry for.
There is no Terror, Caffius, in your Threats;
For I am arm'd fo ftrong in Honefty,

That they pafs by me, as the idle Wind,
Which I refpect not. I did fend to you

For certain Sums of Gold, which you deny'd me;
For I can raife no Money by vile Means;
By Heaven, I had rather coin my Heart,

And drop my Blood for Drachma's, than to wring
From the hard Hands of Peafants their vile Trash,
By any Indirection. I did fend

To you for Gold to pay my Legions,

Which you deny'd me; was that done like Caffius?
Should I have anfwer'd Caius Caffius to?

When Marcus Brutus grows fo covetous

To lock fuch rafcal Counters from his Friends,
Be ready, Gods, with all your Thunderbolts,

Dafh him to pieces.

Caf. I deny'd you not.

Brut. You did.

Cf. I did not he was but a Fool,

That brought my Anfwer back -Brutus hath riv'd my Heart,

A Friend fhould bear a Friend's Infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Brut. I do not. Still you practife them on me.

Caf. You love me not.

Brut. I do not like your Faults.

Caf. A friendly Eye could never fee fuch Faults.
Brut. A Flatt'rer's would not, tho' they do appear

As huge as high Olympus.

I

Caf.

Caf. Come, Anthony, and young Octavius, come; Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,

For Caffius is a-weary of the World;

Hated by one he loves; braved by his Brother;
Check'd like a Bondman; all his Faults obferv'd;
Set in a Note-Book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To caft into my Teeth. OI could weep
My Spirit from mine Eyes!-There is my Dagger,
And here my naked Breaft-within, a Heart
Dearer than Plutus' Mine, richer than Gold;
If that thou need'ft a Roman's, take it forth.
I, that deny'd thee Gold, will give my Heart;
Strike as thou didft at Cæfar; for I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'dft him better
Than ever thou lov'dft Caffius.

Brut. Sheath your Dagger;

Be angry when you will, it fhall have Scope;
Do what you will, Difhonour fhall be Humour.
O Caffius, you are yoked with a Lamb,

That carries Anger, as the Flint bears Fire;
Who, much enforced, fhews a hafty Spark,
And ftraight is cold again.

Caf. Hath Caffius liv'd

To be but Mirth and Laughter to his Brutus,
When Grief, and Blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?
Brut. When I fpoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
Caf. Do you confefs fo much? Give me your Hand.
Brut. And my Heart too.
Embracing,

Caf. O Brutus!

Brut. What's the matter?

Caf. Have you not Love enough to bear with me, When that rafh Humour, which my Mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

Brut. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth.

When you are over-earneft with your Brutus,

He'll think, your Mother chides, and pass it by.

LESSON

LESSON X.

The Folly of EXTRAVAGANCE.

Being feveral Scenes from Timon of Athens, fomewhat altered, and thrown into one.

Enter Flavius the Steward, with Bills in his Hand, and feveral Creditors following him.

Flavius.

N

O Care, no Stop! fo thoughtlefs of Expence,
That he will neither know how to maintain it,

Nor cease his Flow of Riot. Takes no account

How Things go from him, nor has any Care
Of what is to continue. He'll not hear,
Till ftrong Neceffity fhall make him feel.
What can be done?

You must be round with him; he now comes from Hunting.

Enter Timon.

Creditor. My Lord, here is a Note of certain Dues. Timon. Dues? whence are you?

1 Cred. Of Athens here, my Lord.

Tim. Go to my Steward.

Cred. Pleafe your Lordship, he hath put my off
To the Succeffion of new Days, this Month:
My Mafter is now urg'd by great Occafion,
To call in what's his own; and humbly prays
That with your other noble Parts you'll fuit,
In giving him his Right.

Tim. Mine honeft Friend,

I pr'ythee but repair to me to-morrow. 1 Cred. Nay, good my Lord

Tim. Contain thyself, good Friend.

2 Gred. One Varro's Servant, my good Lord

3 Cred. From Ifidore, he prays your speedy Payment

1 Cred. If you did know, my Lord, my Mafter's Wants2 Cred. "Twas due on Forfeiture fix Weeks, and past3 Cred. Your Steward puts me off, my Lord, and I Am fent exprefly to your Lordship.

Tim. Give me Breath. Come hither, Flavins. How goes the World, than I am thus encounter'd With Claims of long-paft Debts, of broken Bonds,

And

And the Detention of Men's lawful Rights,
Against my Honour?

Flav. Please you Gentlemen,

The Time is unagreeable to this Bufinefs;
Your Importunity cease, till after Dinner,
That I may make his Lordfhip understand
Wherefore you are not paid.

Tim. Do fo, my Friends.

[Exeunt Creditors.

Come, Flavius, let me know, wherefore ere this,

You have not fully laid my State before me?
That I might fo have rated my Expence,

As I had leave of Means.

Flav. O my good Lord,

At many times I brought in my Accounts,
Laid them before you: You would throw them off,
And fay, you found them in mine Honesty.

When for fome trifling Prefent, you have bid me
Return fo much, I've fhook my Head, and wept:
Yea, 'gainst th' Authority of Manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close.

My dear-lov'd Lord,

Tho' now you hear too late, even at this time
The greatest of your Having lacks a half

To pay your prefent Debts.

Tim. Let all my Land be fold.

Flav. 'Tis all engag'd; fome forfeited, and gone:

And what remains will hardly stop the Mouth
Of present Dues; the future comes apace;
What fhall defend the interim, and at length
Hold good our Reckoning?

Tim. To Lacedæmon did my Land extend.

Flav. O, my good Lord, the World is but a Word; Were it all yours, to give it in a Breath,

How quickly were it gone!

Tim. You tell me true.

Flav. If you fufpect my Husbandry, or Truth,
Call me before the Auditors,

And fet me on the Proofs. So the Gods blefs me,
When all our Offices have been oppreft

With riotous Feeders; when our Vaults have wept
With drunken Spilth of Wine; when every Room
Hath blaz'd with Lights, and bray'd with Minftrelfie;
I have retir'd me to a filent Nook,

And fet mine Eyes on flow.

Tim. Pr'ythee, no more.

Flaa.

Flav. Heavens! have I faid, from the Bounty of this Lord, How many prodigal Bits have Slaves and Peafants This Night englutted? Who now is not Timon's?

What Heart, Head, Sword, Force, Means, but is Lord'
Great Timon's! noble, worthy, royal Timon's!

Ah! when the Means are gone, that buy this Praise,
The Breath is gone whereof this Praise is made:
One Cloud of Winter Showers,

Thefe Flies are coucht.

Tim. Come, fermon me no farther.

Unwifely, not ignobly, have I given.

(Timon's?

Why doft thou weep? Canft thou the Conscience lack,
To think I fhall lack Friends? Secure thy Heart,

If I would broach the Veffels of my Love,

And try the Gratitude of Friends by borrowing,

Men and their Wealth could I as frankly use,

As I could bid thee speak.

Flav. Affurance blefs your Thoughts!

Tim. Nay, in fome fort thefe Wants of mine are crown'd, And I account them Bleffings; for by these

Shall I try Friends. You fhall perceive how you
Mistake my Fortunes: In my Friends I'm wealthy.
Within there, ho!
[Enter three Servants.

I will dispatch you severally.

You to Lord Lucius-to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted with his Honour to-day-you to Sempronius · commend me to their Loves; and I am proud, fay, that my Occafions have found time to ufe 'em toward a Supply of Money; let the Request be fifty Talents. [Exeunt the Servants.

Go you, Sir, to the Senators;

Of whom, for Service done the State, I have
Deferv'd this Hearing; bid 'em fend o'th' inftant
A thousand Talents to me.

Flav. I've been bold,

(For that I knew it the most general way)

To them to use your Signet and your Name;

But they do fhake their Heads, and I am here
No richer in return,

Tim. Is it true? Can it be?

Flav. They anfwer in a joint and corporate Voice,
That now they are at Ebb, want Treasure, cannot
Do what they wou'd; are forry-you are honourable-
But yet they could have wifh'd-they know not-
Something hath been amifs-

Would all were well-'tis pity

And