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I am glad you are well.

Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies Each bound it chafes. 6) What have you there? Pain. A picture, sir. And when comes your

book forth?

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Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the Let's see your piece.

world?

Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows. Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord! Jew.

Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it were, 2)

To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes. 3)

Jew.

I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate: 4) But, for that

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"Tis a good piece.

Pain. Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Pain. Indifferent. Poet. Admirable: How this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is't good?

Poet.

I'll say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife 8)
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
Poet. The senators of Athens:
Pain. Look, more!
Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of

visitors.

Happy men!

I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, ") but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax: 1o) no levell'd malice 11)
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you? Poet. I'll unbolt 2) to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, (As well of glib and slippery creatures, as Of grave and austere quality,) tender down Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer 13) To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself: even he drops down The knee before him, and returns in peace Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain.
I saw them speak together.
Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill,
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: The base o'the mount
Is rank'd with all deserts, 14) all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states: 15) amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
One do I personate of lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.
Pain.
"Tis conceiv'd to scope. 16)
This throne, this Fortune, and this bill, methinks,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
In our condition. 17)
Poet.
Nay, sir, but hear me on:
All those which were his fellows but of late,
(Some better than his value,) on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings 18) in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him
Drink the free air. 19)

Pain.
Ay, marry, what of these?
Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of
mood,

Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants,
Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pain. "Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show, 20)
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune 21)
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes 22) have seen
The foot above the head.

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Luc. Here at your lordship's service.

Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creature,

By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift;
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well; what further?
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon: 25)
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.
Tim.

Does she love him?

Old Ath. She is young, and apt:
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.
Tim.

How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; To build his fortune, I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her. Old Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! 26)

[Exeunt LUCILIUS and old Athenian.
Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your
lordship!
Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away.
What have you there, my friend?
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
Tim.
Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: These pencil'd figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work;
And you shall find, I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.

Pain.
The gods preserve you!
Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: Give me your
hand;

Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransome; And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me; 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well. Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour! 2

24)

We must needs dine together.

[Exit.

Hath suffer'd under praise.

Sir, your jewel

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Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

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Most welcome, sir! Apem.

[They salute. So, so; there! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I call'd thee by thy That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet

Jew. You know me, Apemantus?

name.

Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.

knaves,

And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out

Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Into baboon and monkey. 34)

Timon.

Tim. Whither art going?

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? Apem. The best, for the innocence. Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it? Apem. He wrought better, that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. You are a dog.

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation; What's she, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apem. No; I eat not lords.

Tim. An thou should'st, thou'dst anger ladies.

Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: Take it for thy labour.

Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, 32) which will not cost a man a doit.

Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking.

Poet. How now, philosopher?

Apem. Thou liest.

Poet. Art not one?

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Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight.

Tim. Right welcome, sir; Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt all but APEMANTUS.

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Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding; make thy requests to thy friend.

How now, poet? hence.

Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow. Poet. That's not feign'd, he is so.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus?

2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels of the ass. [Exit.

1 Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,

And taste lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.

2 Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, 35) but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance. 36) 1 Lord.

The noblest mind he carries, That ever govern'd man.

2 Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? 1 Lord. I'll keep you company. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The same. A Room of State in Timon's House. Hautboys playing loud Music. A great Banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, LUCIUS, LUCULLUS, SEMPRONIUS, and other Athenian Senators, with VBNTIDIUS, and Attendants. Then comes, dropping

after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly.

Ven. Most honour'd Timon, 't hath pleas'd the
gods remember 37)

My father's age, and call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound

To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled, with thanks, and service, from whose help
I deriv'd liberty.

Tim.
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius: you mistake my love;
I gave it freely ever; and there's none
Can truly say, he gives, if he receives:

If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; Faults that are rich, are fair. 38)
Ven. A noble spirit.

[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON.
Tim.
Nay, my lords, ceremony
Was but devis'd at first, to set a gloss
On faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes,
Than my fortunes to me.

[They sit.

1 Lord. My lord, we always have confess'd it. Apem. Ho, ho, confess'd it? hang'd it, have you not?

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2 Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Apem.
Flow this way!
A brave fellow! he keeps his tides well.' Timon,
Those healths will make thee, and thy state, look ill.

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Here's that, which is too weak to be sinner,
Honest water, which ne'er left man i'the mire:
This, and my food, are equals; there's no odds.
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
Apemantus's Grace.

Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man, but myself:
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot, for her weeping;
Or a dog, that seems a sleeping;
Or a keeper with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't:

Rich men sin, and I eat root.

[Eats and drinks.

Much good dich 44) thy good heart, Apemantus!
Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field

now.

Alcib. My heart is ever at your service, my lord. Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies, than a dinner of friends.

Alcib. So they were bleeding new, my lord, there's no meat like them; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

Apem. 'Would all those flatterers were thine enemies, then; that then thou might'st kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.

1 Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect. 45)

Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much

Tim. Fye, thou art a churl; you have got a hu- help from you: How had you been my friends else? mour there

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why have you that charitable title 46) from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my heart? I

They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est, 39) have told more of you to myself, than you can with But yond' man's ever angry.

Go, let him have a table by himself;
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for it, indeed.

modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. 47) O, you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for them: and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for Ior properer can we call our own, than the riches

Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, 40) Timon; I come to observe; I give thee warning on't. Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian; therefore welcome: I myself would have no power: pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent.

should

Ne'er flatter thee.—41) O you gods! what a number
Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not!
It grieves me, to see so many dip their meat
In one man's blood; 42) and all the madness is,
He cheers them up too.

I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
Methinks, they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There's much example for't; the fellow, that
Sits next him now, parts bread with him, and pledges
The breath of him in a divided draught,

Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been prov'd.
If I

Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
Tim. My lord, in heart; 43) and let the health
go round.

of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to
have so many, like brothers, commanding one an-
other's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can
be born! 48) Mine eyes cannot hold out water,
methinks; to forget their faults, I drink to you.
Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.
2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up.
Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me
much.

Apem. Much!
[Tucket sounded.
Tim. What means that trump? How now?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.

Tim. Ladies? What are their wills?

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Apem. Heyday, what a sweep of vanity comes Be worthily entertain'd.

this way!

They dance! they are mad women.

Like madness is the glory of this life,

As this pomp shows to a little oil, and root. 49)
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men,
Upon whose age we void it up again,
With poisonous spite, and envy. Who lives, that's not
Depraved, or depraves? who dies, that bears
Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift? 5o)
I should fear, those, that dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: It has been done;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of TIMON; and, to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, Men with Women, a lofty strain or two to the Hautboys,

and cease.

How now, what news? 3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman, lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to hunt with him; and has sent your honour two brace of greyhounds.

Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be receiv'd, Not without fair reward. Flav. [Aside.]

What will this come to? He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer. Nor will he know his purse; or yield me this, To shew him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good; His promises fly so beyond his state, That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes For every word; he is so kind, that he now Pays interest for't: his land's put to their books. Well, 'would I were gently put out of office, Before I were forc'd out!

Happier is he that has no friend to feed,

Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, Than such as do even enemies exceed.

fair ladies,

Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
You have added worth unto't, and lively lustre,
And entertain'd me with mine own device; 51)

I am to thank you for it.

1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best. 52) Apem. 'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold taking, I doubt me.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet
Attends you: Please you to dispose yourselves.
All Lad. Most thankfully, my lord.

[Exeunt CUPID, and Ladies.

Tim. Flavius,
Flav. My lord.
Tim.
The little casket bring me hither.
Flav. Yes, my lord. More jewels yet!
There is no crossing him in his humour; [Aside.
Else I should tell him, - Well, i'faith, I should,
When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could. 53)
'Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind; 54)
That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. 55) ||
[Exit, and returns with the Casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men? Serv. Here, my lord, in readiness. 2 Lord. Our horses. Tim.

O my friends, I have one word To say to you: Look you, my good lord, I must Entreat you, honour me so much, as to Advance this jewel; 56)

Accept it, and wear it, kind my lord.

[Exit.

I bleed inwardly for my lord.
Tim.
You do yourselves
Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:
Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will re

ceive it.

3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you gave Good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on: it is yours, because you lik'd it! 57) 2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord,

in that.

Tim. You may take my word, my lord; I know

no man

Can justly praise, but what he does affect:
I weigh my friend's affection with mine own;
I'll tell you true. I'll call on you.
All Lords.
None so welcome.
Tim. I take all and your several visitations
So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give;
Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,

Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich,
It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living
Is 'mongst the dead: and all the lands thou hast
Lie in a pitch'd field.
Alcib.
Ay, defiled land, my lord.
1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound,
Tim.

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And so

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