One servant (Flaminius) went to Lucullus. When he was announced Lucullus said, “A gift, I warrant. I dreamt of a silver jug and basin last night.” Then, changing his tone, “How is that honorable, free-hearted, perfect gentleman, your master, eh?” “Well in health, sir,” replied Flaminius. “And what have you got there under your cloak?” asked Lucullus, jovially. “Faith, sir, nothing but an empty box, which, on my master's behalf, I beg you to fill with money, sir.” “La! la! la!” said Lucullus, who could not pretend to mean, “Ha! ha! ha!” “Your master's one fault is that he is too fond of giving parties. I've warned him that it was expensive. Now, look here, Flaminius, you know this is no time to lend money without security, so suppose you act like a good boy and tell him that I was not at home. Here's three solidares for yourself.” “Back, wretched money,” cried Flaminius, “to him who worships you!” Others of Timon's friends were tried and found stingy. Amongst them was Sempronius. “Hum,” he said to Timon's servant, “has he asked Ventidius? Ventidius is beholden to him.” “He refused.” “Well, have you asked Lucullus?” “He refused.” “A poor compliment to apply to me last of all,” said Sempronius, in affected anger. “If he had sent to me at first, I would gladly have lent him money, but I'm not going to be such a fool as to lend him any now.” “Your lordship makes a good villain,” said the servant. When Timon found that his friends were so mean, he took advantage of a lull in his storm of creditors to invite Ventidius and Company to a banquet. Flavius was horrified, but Ventidius and Company, were not in the least ashamed, and they assembled accordingly in Timon's house, and said to one another that their princely host had been jesting with them. “I had to put off an important engagement in order to come here,” said Lucullus; “but who could refuse Timon?” “It was a real grief to me to be without ready money when he asked for some,” said Sempronius. “The same here,” chimed in a third lord. Timon now appeared, and his guests vied with one another in apologies and compliments. Inwardly sneering, Timon was gracious to them all. In the banqueting ball was a table resplendent with covered dishes. Mouths watered. These summer-friends loved good food. “Be seated, worthy friends,” said Timon. He then prayed aloud to the gods of Greece. “Give each man enough,” he said, “for if you, who are our gods, were to borrow of men they would cease to adore you. Let men love the joint more than the host. Let every score of guests contain twenty villains. Bless my friends as much as they have blessed me. Uncover the dishes, dogs, and lap!” The hungry lords were too much surprised by this speech to resent it. They thought Timon was unwell, and, although he had called them dogs, they uncovered the dishes. There was nothing in them but warm water.