TIMON OF ATHENS. LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. THIS play, which contains many perplexed, obscure, and corrupt passages, was written about the year 1610, und was probably suggested by a passage in Plutarch's Life of Antony, wherein the latter professes to imitate the conduct of Timon, by retiring to the woods, and inveighing against the ingratitude of his friends. The finding of hidden gold, (see Act IV.) was an incident borrowed from a MS. play, apparently transcribed about the year 1600, and at one time in the possession of Mr. Strutt the antiquary. A building yet remains near Athens, called Timon's Tower. Phrynia, one of the courtezans whom Timon reviles so outrageously, was that exquisitely beautiful Phrine, who, wher the Athenian Judges were about to condemn her for enormous offences, by the sight of her bosom disarmed the court of its severity, and secured her life from the sentence of the law. Alcibiades, known as a hero who, to the principles of a debauchee added the sagacity of a statesman, the intrepidity of a general, and the humanity of a philosopher, is reduced to comparative insignificance in the present production. I's relative merits, as to action and construction, are succinctly pointed out by Johnson. He describes it as "a domestic tragedy, which strongly fastens on the attention of the reader. In the plan there is not much art; but the incidents are natural, and the characters various and exact. The catastrophe affords a very powerful warning against the ostentatious liberality, which scatters bounty, but confers no benefits, and buys flattery but not friendship." the world? Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows. To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. t Jew. I have a jewel here. Mer. O pray let's see't: For the lord Timon Jew. If he would touch the estimate: But, for Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd It stains the glory in that happy verse Looking at the Jewel. As soon as my book has been presented to limon, Poet. The senators of Athens :-Happy men! Pain. Look, more! Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. 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 Pain. How shall I understand you? You see how all conditions, how all minds, ance All sorts of hearts; yea, foom the glass-fac'd flatterer § To Apemantus, that few things loves better Pain. I saw them speak together. Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant bill, Feign'd Fortune to be throu'd: The base o'the mount Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope. [thinks, This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, meWith 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. Poet. Nay, Sir, but hear me on: All those which were his fellows but of late, Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood, [ants, Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependWhich 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. A thousand moral paintings I can show The contest of art with nature. + My poem does not allude to any particular character. 1 Explain. Shewing, as a glass does by reflection, the looks of his patron. To advance their condations of life. Whisperings of officious servility. Jubale. That shall demonstrate these quick blows of for tune More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well, Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt; His means most short, his creditors most strait : Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well ; [him I do know I am not of that feather to shake off Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. ransom; And, being enfranchis'd, bid him to 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! [Exit. Enter an old ATHENIAN. Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lu cilius. Tim. I have so: What of him? Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. Tim. Attends he here, or no?-Lucilius { Enter LUCILIUS. Luc. Here, at your lordship's service. Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creature, I am a man By night frequents my house. Tim. Well; what further? Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin On whom I may confer what I have got: Tim. The man is honest. Old Atk. Therefore he will be, Timon: T'im. Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young, and apt: 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 Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; iu future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long: To build his fortune, 1 will strain a little, Inferior spectators. The painting is almost the natural man ; And you shall find, I like it: wait attendance Pain. The gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: Give me We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel Jew. What, my lord? dispraise ? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. Jew. My lord, 'tis rated [know, As those, which sell, would give: But you well Tim. Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him. Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid ? Enter APEMANTUS. Jew. We will bear with your lordship. Mer. He'll spare none. Tim. An thou should'st, thou'dst ang t ladies. Apem. Oh! 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 fabour. Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Ape mantus? Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, * which will not cost a man a doit. Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How no poet t Poet. How now, philosopher 1 Poet. Art not one? Poet. Then I lie not. Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it. Apem. Tranic's thy god, and thy god confound thee! Trumpets sound. Enter a SERVANT. Tim. What trumpet's that? Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apeman-You must needs dine with me:-Go not you tus! hence, [done, Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good mor- Till I have thank'd you; and, when dinner's [honest. | Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. Apem. Are they not Athenians? Tim. Yes. Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus. Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus. Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon. Tim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time brains. [feed In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. 1 Lord. What time a day is't, Apemantus ? 1 Lord. That time serves still. 2 Lord. Thou art going to lord Timon's feast. 2 Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well. Alluding to the proverb: plain-dealing is a jewel, but they who use it begg frs. tis lucage degenerated into a monkey. Apem. Thou art a fool, to bid me farewell twice. 2 Lord. Why, Apemantus ? Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none. 1 Lord. Hang thyself. Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend. 2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence. ass. Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels of the And taste lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes 2 Lord. He pours it out: Plutus, the god Is but his steward: no meed but he repays 1 Lord. The noblest mind he carries, That ever govern'd man. Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, T mon; 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. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me Ne'er flatter thee.-O you gods! what a number I wonder men dare trust themselves with men : 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. The breath of him in a divided draught, Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes; Great men should drink with harness † on their throats. Tim. My lord, in heart; ‡ and let the health go round. 2 Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord. Apem. Flow this way! [mon brave fellow !--he keeps his tides well. TiThose healths will make thee and thy state look Hautboys playing loud music. A great ban- Ven. Most honour'd Timon, 't hath pleas'd the My father's age, and call him to long peace. To your free heart, I do return those talents, 1 deriv'd liberty. Tim. Oh! 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 To imitate them: Faults that are rich, are fair. [They all stand ceremoniously looking on Tim. Nay, my lords, ceremony Was but devis'd at first, to set a gloss none. Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes, [They sit. 1 Lord. My lord, we always have confess'd it. Apem. Oh, ho, confess'd it? you not? hang'd it, have Tim. O Apemantus !-you are welcome. You shall not make me welcome : I come to have thee thurst me out of doors. Tim. Fie, thou art a churl; you have got a bumour there ill. Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, APEMANTUS' GRACE. Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; Or a dog, that seems a sleeping; Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks. Much good dick thy good heart, Apemautus! Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the feld 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. Tim. O no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you: How had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my est,‡heart? I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame : Go, let him have a table by himself; Nor is he fit for it, indeed. |