The Family Shakspeare, in Ten Volumes

semble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to forget their faults, I drink to you.

Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes. 3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me much.

Apem. Much?!

[Tucket sounded. Tim. What means that trump?- How now?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.

Tim. Ladies? what are their wills?

Serv. There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office, to signify their plea

sures.

Tim. I pray, let them be admitted.

Enter CUPID.

---

Cup. Hail to thee, worthy Timon; and to all That of his bounties taste! The five best senses Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: The ear, Taste, touch, smell, all pleas'd from thy table rise; They only now come but to feast thine

eyes.

Much, was formerly an expression of contemptuous admiration.

Tim. They are welcome all; let them have kind

admittance:

Musick, make their welcome.

[Exit CUPID. 1 Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you are

belov'd.

Musick. Re-enter CUPID, with a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing, and playing.

Apem. Hey day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!

They dance! they are mad women.

Like madness is the glory of this life,
As this pomp shows to a little oil, and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries.

Who lives, that's not

Depraved, or depraves? who djes, that bears Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift?

I should fear, those, that dance before me now, Would one day stamp upon me: It has been done; Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease.

Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,

Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,

Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
You have added worth unto't, and lively lustre,
And entertain'd me with mine own device;
I am to thank you for it.

1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet

Attends you: Please you to dispose yourselves. All Lad. Most thankfully, my lord.

Tim. Flavius,

Flav. My lord.

Tim.

[Exeunt CUPID, and Ladies.

The little casket bring me hither.

Flav. Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! There is no crossing him in his humour;

[Aside.

Else I should tell him,-Well, -i'faith, I should, When all's spent, he'd be cross'd' then, an he could. 'Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind;

That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.'

[Exit, and returns with the casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men?

Serv.

2 Lord. Our horses.

Tim.

Here, my lord, in readiness.

O my friends, I have one word

To say to you: - Look you, my good lord, I must Entreat you, honour me so much, as to

Advance this jewel;

Accept, and wear it, kind my lord.

1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts, All. So are we all.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My lord, there are certain nobles of the

senate

you.

Newly alighted, and come to visit
Tim. They are fairly welcome.
Flav.
I beseech your honour,
Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.
Tim. Near? why then another time I'll hear
thee:

Shakspeare plays on the word crossed: alluding to the piece of silver money called a cross.

2 For his nobleness of soul.

I pr'ythee, let us be provided
To show them entertainment.
Flav.

I scarce know how. [Aside.

Enter another Servant.

2 Serv. May it please your honour, the lord Lucius,

Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.

Tim. I shall accept them fairly: let the presents

Enter a third Servant.

Be worthily entertain❜d.

How now, what news? 3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him; and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.

Tim. I'll hunt with him; And let them be re

ceiv'd,

Not without fair reward.

Flav. [Aside.]

What will this come to? He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer.

Nor will he know his purse; or yield me this,
To show him what a beggar his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good;
His promises fly so beyond his state,
That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes
For every word; he is so kind, that he now
Pays interest for't; his land's put to their books.
Well, 'would I were gently put out of office,
Before I were forc'd out!

Happier is he that has no friend to feed,
Than such as do even enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.

[Exit.

Tim.

You do yourselves

Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits :

Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive it.

3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you

gave

Good words the other day of a bay courser
I rode on it is yours, because you lik'd it.

2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, 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 weigh my friend's affection with mine own:
I'll tell you true.
I'll call on you.

All Lords.

None so welcome.

Tim. I take all and your several visitations So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,

Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich,

It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead; and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.

Alcib.

Ay, defiled land, my lord.

1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound, Tim.