Ha! What has he sent?

Lucius
Ha! What has he sent? I am so much endeared
to that lord; he’s ever sending. How shall I thank
him, think’st thou? And what has he sent now?
Servilius
Has only sent his present occasion now, my
lord, requesting your Lordship to supply his
instant use with fifty talents.

O, see the monstrousness of man
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!

Lucius
I know his Lordship is but merry with me.
He cannot want fifty-five hundred talents.
Servilius
But in the meantime he wants less, my lord.
If his occasion were not virtuous,
I should not urge it half so faithfully.
Lucius
Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
Servilius
Upon my soul, ’tis true, sir.
Lucius
What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish
myself against such a good time, when I might ha’
shown myself honorable! How unluckily it happened
that I should purchase the day before for a
little part, and undo a great deal of honor! Servilius,
now before the gods, I am not able to do—the
more beast, I say!—I was sending to use Lord
Timon myself, these gentlemen can witness; but I
would not for the wealth of Athens I had done ’t
now. Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship,
and I hope his Honor will conceive the fairest
of me, because I have no power to be kind. And tell
him this from me: I count it one of my greatest
afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an honorable
gentleman. Good Servilius, will you befriend me so far
as to use mine own words to him?
Servilius
Yes, sir, I shall.
Lucius
I’ll look you out a good turn, Servilius.
 Servilius exits.
True, as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed,
And he that’s once denied will hardly speed.
 He exits.
First Stranger
Do you observe this, Hostilius?
Second Stranger
Ay, too well.
First Stranger
Why, this is the world’s soul, and just of the same piece
Is every flatterer’s sport. Who can call him his friend
That dips in the same dish? For, in my knowing,
Timon has been this lord’s father
And kept his credit with his purse,
Supported his estate, nay, Timon’s money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne’er drinks
But Timon’s silver treads upon his lip.
And yet—O, see the monstrousness of man
When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!—
He does deny him, in respect of his,
What charitable men afford to beggars.
Third Stranger
Religion groans at it.
First Stranger
For mine own part,
I never tasted Timon in my life,
Nor came any of his bounties over me
To mark me for his friend. Yet I protest,
For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue,
And honorable carriage,
Had his necessity made use of me,
I would have put my wealth into donation,
And the best half should have returned to him,
So much I love his heart. But I perceive
Men must learn now with pity to dispense,
For policy sits above conscience.
 They exit.