TIMON OF ATHENS. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. Athens. A Hall in Timon's House. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several Doors. Poet. Good day, sir. Pain. I am glad you are well. Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes world? Pain. It wears sir, as it grows. Poet. the Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magick 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, To an untirable and continuate 2 goodness: He passes. 3 Inured by constant practice. 3 i. e. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds. 2 Continual. Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon sir? Jew. If he will touch the estimate; But, for thatPoet. When we for recompense have prais'd the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good. Mer. 'Tis a good form. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord. 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 Each bound it chafes. What have you there? book forth? Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let's see your piece. Pain. 'Tis a good piece. Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Pain. Indifferent. Poet. Admirable How this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Poet. I'll say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife5 Lives in these touches, livelier than life. As soon as my book has been presented to Timon. i.e. The contest of art with nature. Enter certain Senators, and pass over. Pain. How this lord's follow'd! 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, Pain. How shall I understand you? To Apemantus, that few things loves better Pain. mount Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, 6 My design does not stop at any particular character. 7 One who shows by reflection the looks of his patron. • To advance their conditions of life. Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, Whom fortune with her ivory hands wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals. Pain. "Tis conceiv'd to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, Poet. Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him. Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? Poet. When fortune, in her shrift and change of mood, Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants, A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him. 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 : Your honourable letter he desires To those have shut him up; which failing to him, Periods his comfort. Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well; I am not of that feather, to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman, that well deserves a help, Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him. Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ran some; 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! [Exit. Enter an old Athenian. Old. Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim. Freely, good father. Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius. 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 By night frequents my house. I am a man Well; what further? Tim. Old. Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: |