discontented personage, too: you blame Timon because he opened his doors and let you go where you liked, and neither locked you up nor watched you jealously; whereas at other times you cry out against the rich, saying that they confine you with bolts and bars, and put seals on you, so that you never get so much as a glimpse of daylight. You used to complain to me that you were suffocated in the dark holes they kept you in; and I must say you used to look quite pale and careworn, and your fingers quite contracted from the constant habit of counting; and you often threatened to escape from such confinement the moment you had a chance.
Plutus replies to Jupiter with some sensible remarks as to there being a mean between the prodigal and the miser; but he consents to pay Timon a visit at Jupiter's command, though feeling, as he says, that he might as well get into one of the Danaids' leaky water-jars, so sure is he to filter rapidly through the hands of such a master. The god of Riches, we must remember, is blind; and Mercury, who has to escort him to Athens, recommends him to hold fast by his coat-tail all the way down. Jupiter desires his messenger to call at Ætna on his way, and send up the Cyclops to mend his broken thunderbolt.
They find Timon hard at work, in the company of Poverty. But she has brought with her a band of other companions—Labour, and Perseverance, and Wisdom, and Fortitude. This is a stronger bodyguard, as Mercury observes, than Plutus ever gathers round him. The god of Riches confesses it; he can
