Apermantus Grace.

Immortall Gods, I crave no pelfe,
I pray for no man but my selfe,
Graunt I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
Or a Harlot for her weeping,
Or a Dogge that seemes asleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedome,
Or my friends if I should need'em,
Amen. So fall too't:

Rich men sin, and I eat root.

Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus.

Tim, Captaine.

Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now.

Alci. My heart is ever at your service, my Lord.

Tim. You had rather be at a breakefast of Enemies, then a dinner of Friends.

Alc. So they were Bleeding new my Lord there's no meat like 'em, I could wish my best friend at such a Feast.

Aper. Would all those Flatterers were thine Enemies then, that then thou might'st kill 'em : & bid me to 'em.

1. Lord. Might we but have that happinesse my Lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might expresse some part of our zeales, we should thinke our selves for ever perfect.

Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods themselves have provided that I shall have much helpe from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why have you that charitable title from thousands? Did not you chiefely belong to my heart? I have told more of you to my selfe, then you can with modestie speake in your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh you Gods (thinke I,) what need we have any Friends; if we should nere have need of 'em? They were the most needlesse Creatures living; should we nere have use for 'em? And would most resemble sweete Instruments hung up in

Cases, that keepes there sounds to themselves. Why I have often wisht my selfe poorer, that I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do benefits. And what better or properer can we call our owne, then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many like Brothers commanding one anothers Fortunes. Oh joyes, e'ne made away er't can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks to forget their Faults. I drinke to you.

Aper. Thou weep'st to make them drinke, Timon.

2. Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eies, And at that instant, like a babe sprung up.

Aper. Ho, ho: I laugh to thinke that babe a bastard.
3. Lord. I promise you my Lord you mov'd me much.
Aper. Much.

Sound Tucket.

Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with Lutes in their hands, dauncing and playing.

Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now?

Enter Servant.

Ser. Please you my Lord, there are certaine Ladies Most desirous of admittance.

Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?

Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
Which beares that office, to signifie their pleasures.
Tim. I pray let them be admitted.

Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.

Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of his Bounties taste: the five best Sences acknowledge thee their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious bosome.

There tast, touch all, pleas'd from thy Table rise :

They onely now come but to Feast thine eies.

Timo. They'r welcome all, let 'em have kind admittance. Musicke make their welcome.

Luc. You see my Lord, how ample y'are belov'd

Aper. Hoyday.

What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way.
They daunce? They are madwomen,
Like Madnesse is the glory of this life,

As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote.
We make our selves Fooles, to disport our selves,
And spend our Flatteries, to drinke those men,
Upon whose Age we voyde it up agen

With poysonous Spight and Envy.

Who lives, that's not depraved, or depraves;

Who dyes, that beares not one spurne to their graves
Of their Friends guift:

I should feare, those that dance before me now,
Would one day stampe upon me: "Tas bene done,
Men shut their doores against a setting Sunne.

The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and to shew their loves, each single out an Amazon, and all Dance, men with women, a loftie straine or two to the Hoboyes, and cease. Tim. You have done our pleasures

Much grace (faire Ladies)

Set a faire fashion on our entertainment,

Which was not halfe so beautifull, and kinde :

You have added worth untoo't, and luster,

And entertain❜d me with mine owne device.

I am to thanke you for❜t.

I Lord. My Lord you take us even at the best.

Aper. Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold taking,

I doubt me.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,

Please you to dispose your selves.

All La. Most thankfully, my Lord.

Tim. Flavius.

Fla. My Lord.

Tim. The little Casket, bring me hither.

Exeunt.

Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Jewels yet? There is no crossing him in's humor,

Else I should tell him well, yfaith I should;

When all's spent, hee'ld be crost then, and he could: "Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,

That man might ne're be wretched for his minde.

I Lord. Where be our men?

Ser. Heere my Lord, in readinesse.

2 Lord. Our Horses.

I have one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L.

I must intreat you honour me so much,

As to advance this Jewell, accept it, and weare it,

Kinde my Lord.

1 Lord. I am so farre already in your guifts.

All. So are we all.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My Lord, there are certaine Nobles of the Senate Newly alighted, and come to visit you.

Tim. They are fairely welcome.

Enter Flavius.

Exit.

Fla. I beseech your Honor, vouchsafe me a word, it does concerne you neere.

Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee.

I prythee let's be provided to shew them entertainment.
Fla. I scarse know how.

Enter another Servant.

Ser. May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius (Out of his free love) hath presented to you

Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Silver.

Tim. I shall accept them fairely: let the Presents Be worthily entertain'd.

Enter a third Servant.

How now? What newes?

3. Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentleman Lord Lucullus, entreats your companie to morrow, to hunt with him, and ha's sent your Honour two brace of Grey-hounds.

Tim. Ile hunt with him,

And let them be receiv'd, not without faire Reward.

Fla. What will this come to?

He commands us to provide, and give great guifts, and all out of an empty Coffer:

Nor will he know his Purse, or yeeld me this,

To shew him what a Begger his heart is,

Being of no power to make his wishes good.

His promises flye so beyond his state,

That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for ev'ry word:

He is so kinde, that he now payes interest for❜t;

Well, would I were

His Land's put to their Bookes.
Gently put out of Office, before I were forc'd out:
Happier is he that has no friend to feede,
Then such that do e'ne Enemies exceede.
I bleed inwardly for my Lord.

Tim. You do your selves much wrong,
You bate too much of your owne merits.
Heere my Lord, a trifle of our Love.

2. Lord. With more then common thankes

I will receyve it.

3. Lord. O he's the very soule of Bounty.

Exit.

Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gave good words the other day of a Bay Courser I rod on. Tis yours because you lik'd it.

1. L. Oh, I beseech you pardon mee, my Lord, in that.

Tim. You may take my word my Lord I know no man can justly praise, but what he does affect. I weighe my Friends. affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true, Ile call to you.