The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: Gg5r - Tragedies, p. 85

Left Column


Timon of Athens. Enter three Seruants. Ser. My Lord, my Lord. Tim. I will dispatch you seuerally.
[825]

You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted

with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me

to their loues; and I am proud say, that my occasions

haue found time to vse 'em toward a supply of mony: let

the request be fifty Talents.

Flam.
[830]
As you haue said, my Lord.
Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh. Tim. Go you sir to the Senators; Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue Deseru'd this Hearing: bid 'em send o'th'instant
[835]
A thousand Talents to me.
Ste, I haue beene bold (For that I knew it the most generall way) To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name, But they do shake their heads, and I am heere
[840]
No richer in returne.
Tim. Is't true? Can't be? Stew. They answer in a ioynt and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want Treature cannot Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable,
[845]
But yet they could haue wisht, they know not, Something hath beene amisse; a Noble Nature May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty, And so intending other serious matters, After distastefull lookes; and these hard Fractions
[850]
With certaine halfe‑caps, and cold mouing nods, They froze me into Silence.
Tim. You Gods reward them: Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary:
[855]
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it sildome flowes, 'Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde; And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth, Is fashion'd for the iourney, dull and heauy. Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad,
[860]
Thou art true, and honest; Ingeniously I speake, No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately Buried his Father, by whose death hee's stepp'd Into a great estate: When he was poore, Imprison'd, and in scarsitie of Friends,
[865]
I cleer'd him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me, Bid him suppose, some good necessity Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred With those fiue Talents; that had, giue't these Fellowes To whom 'tis instant due. Neu'r speake, or thinke,
[870]
That Timons fortunes 'mong his Friends can sinke.
Stew. I would I could not thinke it: That thought is Bounties Foe; Being free it selfe, it thinkes all others so. Exeunt
[Act 3, Scene 1] Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a seruant to him. Ser.

I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down

[875]

to you.

Flam.

I thanke you Sir.

Enter Lucullus. Ser.

Heere's my Lord.

Luc.

One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant.

Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre

[880]

to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie re­

spectiuely welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how

does that Honourable, Compleate, Free‑hearted Gentle­

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[full image]

Right Column


man of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and May­

ster?

Flam.
[885]

His health is well sir.

Luc.

I am right glad that his health is well sir: and

what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius?

Flam.

Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in

my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to sup­

[890]

ply: who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie

Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: no­

thing doubting your present assistance therein.

Luc.

La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas

good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep

[895]

so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with

him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him

of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold em­

brace no counsell, take no warning by my comming, eue­

ry man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,

[900]

but I could nere get him from't.

Enter Seruant with Wine. Ser. Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine. Luc. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wise. Heere's to thee. Flam. Your Lordship speakes your pleasure. Luc.
[905]

I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie

prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes

what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the

time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sir­

rah. Draw neerer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a boun­

[910]

tifull Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know'st

well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no

time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe

without securitie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good

Boy winke at me, and say thou saw'st mee not. Fare thee

[915]

well.

Flam. Is't possible the world should so much differ, And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse To him that worships thee. Luc.

Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy

[920]

Master.

Exit L. Flam. May these adde to the number y t may scald thee: Let moulten Coine be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe: Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart,
[925]
It turnes in lesse then two nights ? O you Gods! I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor, Has my Lords meate in him: Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment, When he is turn'd to poyson?
[930]
O may Diseases onely worke vpon't: And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature Which my Lord payd for, be of any power To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower.
Exit.
[Act 3, Scene 2] Enter Lucius, with three strangers. Luc.

Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend

[935]

and an Honourable Gentleman.

1

We know him for no lesse, thogh we are but stran­

gers to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and

which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons

happie howres are done and past, and his estate shrinkes

[940]

from him.

Lucius.

Fye no, doe not beleeue it: hee cannot want

for money.

2

But beleeue you this my Lord, that not long agoe,

one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow so

[945]

many Talents, nay vrg'd extreamly for't, and what

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[Act 3, Scene 1] Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a seruant to him. Ser.

I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down

[875]

to you.

Flam.

I thanke you Sir.

Enter Lucullus. Ser.

Heere's my Lord.

Luc.

One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant.

Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre

[880]

to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie re­

spectiuely welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how

does that Honourable, Compleate, Free‑hearted Gentle­

man of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and May­

ster?

Flam.
[885]

His health is well sir.

Luc.

I am right glad that his health is well sir: and

what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius?

Flam.

Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in

my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to sup­

[890]

ply: who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie

Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: no­

thing doubting your present assistance therein.

Luc.

La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas

good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep

[895]

so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with

him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him

of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold em­

brace no counsell, take no warning by my comming, eue­

ry man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,

[900]

but I could nere get him from't.

Enter Seruant with Wine. Ser. Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine. Luc. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wise. Heere's to thee. Flam. Your Lordship speakes your pleasure. Luc.
[905]

I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie

prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes

what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the

time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sir­

rah. Draw neerer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a boun­

[910]

tifull Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know'st

well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no

time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe

without securitie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good

Boy winke at me, and say thou saw'st mee not. Fare thee

[915]

well.

Flam. Is't possible the world should so much differ, And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse To him that worships thee. Luc.

Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy

[920]

Master.

Exit L. Flam. May these adde to the number y t may scald thee: Let moulten Coine be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe: Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart,
[925]
It turnes in lesse then two nights ? O you Gods! I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor, Has my Lords meate in him: Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment, When he is turn'd to poyson?
[930]
O may Diseases onely worke vpon't: And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature Which my Lord payd for, be of any power To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower.
Exit.
 

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<div type="scene" n="1" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master,
      <lb/>enters a seruant to him.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tim-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="874">I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down
      <lb n="875"/>to you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <p n="876">I thanke you Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Lucullus.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tim-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <p n="877">Heere's my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <p n="878">One of Lord<hi rend="italic">Timons</hi>men? A Guift I warrant.
      <lb n="879"/>Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason &amp; Ewre
      <lb n="880"/>to night.<hi rend="italic">Flaminius</hi>, honest<hi rend="italic">Flaminius</hi>, you are verie re­
      <lb n="881"/>spectiuely welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how
      <lb n="882"/>does that Honourable, Compleate, Free‑hearted Gentle­<cb n="2"/>
         
      <lb n="883"/>man of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and May­
      <lb n="884"/>ster?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <p n="885">His health is well sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <p n="886">I am right glad that his health is well sir: and
      <lb n="887"/>what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty<hi rend="italic">Flaminius?</hi>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <p n="888">Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in
      <lb n="889"/>my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to sup­
      <lb n="890"/>ply: who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie
      <lb n="891"/>Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: no­
      <lb n="892"/>thing doubting your present assistance therein.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <p n="893">La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas
      <lb n="894"/>good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep
      <lb n="895"/>so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with
      <lb n="896"/>him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him
      <lb n="897"/>of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold em­
      <lb n="898"/>brace no counsell, take no warning by my comming, eue­
      <lb n="899"/>ry man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,
      <lb n="900"/>but I could nere get him from't.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Seruant with Wine.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tim-ser">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ser.</speaker>
      <l n="901">Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="902">
         <hi rend="italic">Flaminius</hi>, I haue noted thee alwayes wise.</l>
      <l n="903">Heere's to thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <l n="904">Your Lordship speakes your pleasure.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <p n="905">I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie
      <lb n="906"/>prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes
      <lb n="907"/>what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the
      <lb n="908"/>time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sir­
      <lb n="909"/>rah. Draw neerer honest<hi rend="italic">Flaminius</hi>. Thy Lords a boun­
      <lb n="910"/>tifull Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know'st
      <lb n="911"/>well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no
      <lb n="912"/>time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe
      <lb n="913"/>without securitie. Here's three<hi rend="italic">Solidares</hi>for thee, good
      <lb n="914"/>Boy winke at me, and say thou saw'st mee not. Fare thee
      <lb n="915"/>well.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <l n="916">Is't possible the world should so much differ,</l>
      <l n="917">And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse</l>
      <l n="918">To him that worships thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tim-lcl">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <p n="919">Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy
      <lb n="920"/>Master.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit L.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tim-flm">
      <speaker rend="italic">Flam.</speaker>
      <l n="921">May these adde to the number y<c rend="superscript">t</c>may scald thee:</l>
      <l n="922">Let moulten Coine be thy damnation,</l>
      <l n="923">Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe:</l>
      <l n="924">Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart,</l>
      <l n="925">It turnes in lesse then two nights<c rend="italic">?</c>O you Gods!</l>
      <l n="926">I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor,</l>
      <l n="927">Has my Lords meate in him:</l>
      <l n="928">Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment,</l>
      <l n="929">When he is turn'd to poyson?</l>
      <l n="930">O may Diseases onely worke vpon't:</l>
      <l n="931">And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature</l>
      <l n="932">Which my Lord payd for, be of any power</l>
      <l n="933">To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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