Ventidius, one of Timon's falfe Friends. Thieves, Senators, Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Mercer and Merchant; with divers fervants and attendants. SCENE, Athens; and the Woods not far from it. TIMON TIMON of ATHEN s. ACT I. SCENE, A Hall in Timon's Houfe. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at feveral doors. G OOD day, Sir. POET. Pain. I am glad y' are well. Poet. I have not feen you long; how goes the world? Pain. It wears, Sir, as it goes. Poet. Ay, that's well known. But what particular rarity? what so strange, (Magick of bounty!) all these spirits thy power Jew. Nay, that's most fixt. Mer. A moft incomparable man, breath'd as it were To an untirable and continuate goodness. He paffes Jew. I have a jewel here. Mer. O, pray, let's fee't: For the Lord Timon, Sir? VOL. VI. Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but for thatPoet. When we for recompence have prais'd the vile, It flains the glory in that happy verfe Which aptly fings the good. Mer. 'Tis a good form. [Looking on the jewel. Jew. And rich; here is a water, look ye. Pain. You're rapt, Sir, in fome work, fome dedication To the great Lord. Poet. A thing flipt idly from me. Our poefy is as a gum, which iffues From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i' th' flint Shews not, 'till it be ftruck: our gentle flame Each bound it chafes. What have you there? (1) Pain. 'Tis a good piece. Poet. So 'tis, This comes off well and excellent. Pain. Indiff'rent. Poet. Admirable! how this grace Speaks his own ftanding? what a mental power Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life: Poet. I'll fay of it, It tutors nature; artificial ftrife Lives in thofe touches, livelier than life. (1) Each bound it chafes.--] How, chafes? The flood, indeed beating up upon the fhore, covers a part of it, but cannot be faid to drive the fhore away. The poet's allufion is to a wave, which, foaming and chafing on the shore, breaks; and then the water feems to the eye to retire. So, in Lear. The murmuring furge, That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, &c. And fo in Jul. Cæfar. The troubled Tiber, chafing with his shores. 4 Enter Enter certain Senators. Pain. How this Lord is followed! Poet. The Senators of Athens! happy man! (2) Poet. You fee this confluence, this great flood of vifiters. Pain. How fhall I underftand Poet. I'll unbolt to you. you ? You fee, how all conditions, how all minds, Pain. I faw them fpeak together. Poet. I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The bafe o' th' mount Is rank'd with all deferts, all kind of natures, (2) Happy men!] Thus the printed copies: but I cannot think the poet meant, that the fenators were happy in being admitted to Timon; their quality might command that: but that Timon was happy in being follow'd, and caress'd, by those of their rank and dignity. F 2 Whofe 1 Whofe prefent grace to prefent flaves and fervants Pain. "Tis conceiv'd to th' fcope. (3) This throne, this fortune, and this hill, methinks, Poet. Nay, but hear me on: All thofe which were his fellows but of late, Make facred even his ftirrop; and through him Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? Poet. When Fortune in her fhift and change of mood Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants (Which labour'd after to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands,) let him flip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. Pain. "Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can fhew, That shall demonftrate these quick blows of fortune (3) 'Tis conceiv'd, to scope This throne, this fortune, &c.] Thus all the editors hitherto have nonfenfically writ, and pointed, this paffage. But, fure, the painter would tell the poet, your conception, Sir, hits the very scope you aim at. This the Greeks would have render'd, rỡ onoπõ ruxɛîs, recta ad fcopum tendis: and Cicero has thus exprefs'd on the like occafion, Signum oculis defiinatum feris. This fenfe our author, in his Henry 8th, expreffes; I think, you've hit the mark. And in his Julius Cæfar, at the conclufion of the first act; Trumpets |