Must he needs trouble me in’t? Hum! ’Bove all others?

He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus;

And now Ventidius is wealthy too,

Whom he redeemed from prison. All these

Owe their estates unto him.

My lord,

They have all been touched and found base metal,

For they have all denied him.

How? Have they denied him?

Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him

And does he send to me? Three? Humh!

It shows but little love or judgment in him.

Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians,

Thrive, give him over. Must I take th’ cure upon me?

Has much disgraced me in’t. I’m angry at him,

That might have known my place. I see no sense for’t

But his occasions might have wooed me first;

For, in my conscience, I was the first man

That e’er received gift from him.

And does he think so backwardly of me now

That I’ll requite it last? No.

So it may prove an argument of laughter

To th’ rest, and I ’mongst lords be thought a fool.

I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum

Had sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake;

I’d such a courage to do him good. But now return,

And with their faint reply this answer join:

Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.

Excellent! Your lordship’s a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he

did when he made man politic; he crossed himself by’t, and I cannot

think but, in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How

fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be

wicked, like those that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms on

fire.

Of such a nature is his politic love.

This was my lord’s best hope, now all are fled

Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead,

Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards

Many a bounteous year must be employed

Now to guard sure their master.

And this is all a liberal course allows,

Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.