rock there. However, those rascals will be punished enough for the present, when they see Timon grown rich again."
Merc. See now, what a thing it is to make a clamour, and to be impudent and troublesome! I don't mean for lawyers only, but for those who put up prayers to heaven. Here's Timon going to be set up again as a rich man out of the extreme of poverty, all because of his noise and bold words attracting Jupiter's notice! If he had bent his back to his digging in silence, he might have dug on till doomsday without Jupiter's noticing him. (He goes off, and returns with Plutus.)
Plutus. I shan't go near that fellow, Jupiter.
Jup. How, my good Plutus,—not when I bid you?
Plu. No. He insulted me—turned me out of his house, and scattered me in all directions—me, the old friend of the family—all but pitched me out of doors, as if I burnt his fingers. What! go back to him, to be thrown to his parasites, and toadies, and harlots? No: send me to those who value the gift, who will make much of me, who honour me and desire my company; and let all those fools keep house still with Poverty, who prefer her to me. Let them get her to give them a spade and an old sheep-skin, and go dig for their twopence a-day, after squandering thousands in gifts to their friends.
Jup. Timon will never behave so to you again. His spade-husbandry will have taught him pretty well (unless his back's made of stuff that can't feel) that you are to be preferred to Poverty. You're rather a
