My lord leans wondrously to discontent:

His comfortable temper has forfook him;

He is much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
Luc. Many do keep their chambers, are not fick :
And, if he be fo far beyond his health,

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

Ser. Good gods!

Tit. We cannot take this for an answer.

Flam. [within.] Servilius, help! my lord, my lord,

SCENE V.

Enter Timon in a rage.

Tim. What, are my doors oppos'd against my paffage ? Have I been ever free, and muft my house

Be my retentive enemy, my jail?

The place which I have feafted, does it now,

Like all mankind, fhow me an iron heart?

Luc. Put in now, Titus.

Tit. My lord, here's my bill.

Luc. Here's mine.

Var. And mine, my lord.

Cap. And ours, my lord.

Phi. And our bills.

Tim. Knock me down with 'em, cleave me to the girdle.

What's yours? — and yours?

Var. My lord,

Cap. My lord,

-

Tim. Here, tear me, take me, and the gods fall on you! [Exit.

Hor.

Hor. 'Faith, I perceive, our mafters may throw their caps at their money; these debts may be well call'd desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Reenter Timon, and Flavius,

[Exeunt.

Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the flaves. Creditors! - devils.

Flav. Here, my lord.

Tim. So fitly?-Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius; all:

I'll once more feaft the rafcals.

Flav. O my lord!

You only speak from your distracted foul;
There's not fo much left as to furnish out
A moderate table.

Tim. Be it not thy care:

Go, and invite them all; let in the tide

Of knaves once more: my cook and I'll provide.

[Exeunt.

1 Sen.

'M'

SCENE VI.

The Senate-house.

Senators, and Alcibiades.

Y lord, you have my voice to't, the fault's bloody; 'Tis neceffary he should die:

Nothing emboldens fin fo much as mercy.

2 Sen. Moft true; the law fhall bruise him.

Alc. Health, honour, and compaffion to the senate! 1 Sen. Now, captain?

Alc. I am an humble fuitor to your virtues,

VOL. V.

F

For

For pity is the virtue of the law,
And none but tyrants ufe it cruelly.
It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
Hath ftep'd into the law, which is past depth
To thofe that without heed do plunge into't.
He is a man, fetting this fact afide,

Of virtuous honour which buys out his fault;
Nor did he foil the fact with cowardife,
But, with a noble fury, and fair spirit,
Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his foe :

And with fuch fober and unnoted paffion
He did behave in's anger, ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prov'd an argument.

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

Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'd
To bring manflaughter into form, fet quarrelling
Upon the head of valour; which, indeed,

Is valour misbegot, and came into th' world
When fects and factions were but newly born.

He's truly valiant, that can wifely suffer

The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs

His outfides, wear them like his rayment, carelefly,
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?

Alc. My lord,

I Sen. You cannot make grofs fins look clear; It is not valour to revenge, but bear.

Alc. My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
If I fpeak like a captain.

Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
And not endure all threat'nings, fleep upon't,

And

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, fure, women are more valiant
That stay at home, if bearing carry it;

The ass, more than the lion; and the fellow
Loaden with irons, wiser than the judge,
If wisdom be in fuff'ring. O my lords,
As you are great, be pitifully good:

Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?

To kill, I grant, is fin's extremeft guft;
But, in defence, by mercy 'tis moft juft.
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.
Alc. In vain ? his fervice done
At Lacedæmon, and Bizantium,
Were a fufficient briber for his life.
I Sen. What's that?

Alc. I fay, my lords, h'as done fair fervice; flain
In battle many of your enemies:

How full of valour did he bear himself

In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
2 Sen. He has made too much plenty with’em; he
Is a fworn rioter: he has a fin

Oft' drowns him, and takes valour prifoner.
Were there no foes, that were enough alone
To overcome him: in that beastly fury
He has been known to commit outrages,
And cherish factions. "Tis inferr'd to us,
His days are foul, and his drink dangerous.
1 Sen. He dies.

Alc. Hard fate! he might have dy'd in war.
My lords, if not for any parts in him,

(Though his right arm might purchase his own time,

F 2

And

And be in debt to none) yet, more to move you,
Take my deferts to his, and join 'em both.
And, for I know your reverend ages love
Security, I'll pawn my victories,

My honours to you, on his good returns.
If by this crime he owes the law his life,
Why, let the war receiv't in valiant gore;
For law is ftrict, and war is nothing more.

1 Sen. We are for law, he dies; urge it no more,
On height of our difpleafure: friend or brother,
He forfeits his own blood that fpills another.
Alc. Muft it be fo? it muft not be:

My lords, I do beseech you, know me.

2 Sen. How!

Alc. Call me to your remembrances.

3 Sen. What, fir!

Alc. I cannot think but your age hath forgot me;

It could not elfe be, I fhould prove fo base,

To fue, and be deny'd fuch common grace.

My wounds ake at you.

1 Sen. Do you dare our anger?

'Tis in few words, but fpacious in effect: We banish thee for ever.

Alc. Banifh me!

Banish your dotage, banish ufury,

That make the fenate ugly.

1 Sen. If, after two days' fhine, Athens contains thee, Attend our weightier judgment.

2 Sen. And, (not to fwell our fpirit,) he shall then Be executed presently.

Alc. Gods keep you old enough, that you may live
Only in bone, that none may look on you!

I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
While they have told their money and let out
Their coin upon large intereft; I myself,

Rich only in large hurts. All those, for this?

[Exeunt.