Page 3127 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 3127

But yet they could have wish’d − they know not;
               Something hath been amiss − a noble nature [210]
               May catch a wrench − would all were well − ’tis pity −
               And so, intending other serious matters,

               After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions,
               With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods,
               They froze me into silence.



              TIMON
                               You gods reward them! [215]

               Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
               Have their ingratitude in them hereditary;
               Their blood is cak’d, ’tis cold, it seldom flows;
               ’Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
               And nature, as it grows again toward earth, [220]

               Is fashion ’d for the journey, dull and heavy.
               Go to Ventidius. Prithee, be not sad,
               Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak,

               No blame belongs to thee. Ventidius lately
               Buried his father, by whose death he’s stepp’d [225]
               Into a great estate. When he was poor,
               Imprison’d, and in scarcity of friends,
               I clear’d him with five talents. Greet him from me,

               Bid him suppose some good necessity
               Touches his friend, which craves to be remember’d [230]
               With those five talents. That had, give ’t these fellows

               To whom ’tis instant due. Ne’er speak or think
               That Timon’s fortunes ’mong his friends can sink.



              STEWARD
               I would I could not think it.
               That thought is bounty’s foe; [235]
               Being free itself, it thinks all others so.

                                                                                                       [Exeunt]
   3122   3123   3124   3125   3126   3127   3128   3129   3130   3131   3132