Imatges de pÓgina
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Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the 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,

To an untirable and continuate2 goodness :
He passes.3

Jero. I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?
Jew. If he will touch the estimate: But, for that-
Poet. 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.
[Looking at the jewel.
Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you.

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. What have you there?
Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your
book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment,1 sir.
Let's see your piece.
Pain.
Poet. So 'tis this comes off well and excellent.
Pain. Indifferent.

'Tis a good piece.

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 strifes
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:-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
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice

Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedi-Infects one comma in the course I hold;
cation

To the great lord.
Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from me.

(1) Inured by constant practice. (2) For continual.

But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

(4) As soon as my book has been presented to Timon.

(5) i. e. The contest of art with nature.
(6) My design does not stop at any particular

73) i. e. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds. character.

Leaving no track behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet.

Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ran

som;

I'll unbolt to you. 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! [Ex.
Enter an old Athenian.

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 flat-
terer,2

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.

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Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states:3 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.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, 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.

Poct.
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 in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drinks the free air.

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
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.

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.

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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
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'y thee, 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: His honesty rewards him in itself,

It must not bear my daughter.

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Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served 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.

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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!

[Exeunt Lucilius and old Athenian. Poct. 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?

(3) To advance their conditions of life.
(4) Whisperings of officious servility.
(5) Inhale.
(6) . e. Inferior spectators.

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;

We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my lord? dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations." If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,

It would unclew2 me quite.

Jero.

My lord, 'tis rated

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Tim. Thou are proud, Apemantus.

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Most welcome, sir! Apem.

So, so; there!

Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not Aches contract and starve your supple joints!like Timon. That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,

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.

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2 Lord. Why, Apemantus?

Go, let him have a table by himself;

Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I For he does neither affect company, mean to give thee none.

1 Lord. Hang thyself.

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

2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence.

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, but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.2 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 Ventidius, and attendants. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly.

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

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.
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

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Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame : They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est,3 But yond' man's ever angry.

(1) Meed her means desert.

No,

hu

Nor is he fit for it, indeed.

Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, 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. Apem. Iscorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for

I should

Ne'er flatter thee.-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; and all the madness is,
He cheers them up too.4

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
Great men should drink with harness on their

notes:

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! A brave fellow!-he keeps his tides well. Timon, Those healths will make thee, and thy state look ill. Here's that, which is too weak to be a 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 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

(4) The allusion is to a pack of hounds trained to pursuit, by being gratified with the blood of an animal which they kill; and the wonder is, that the

(2) i. e. All the customary returns made in dis-animal, on which they are feeding, cheers them to

charge of obligations.

(3) Anger is a short madness.

the chase.

(5) Armour. (6) With sincerity. (7) Foolish.

we might express some part of our zeals, we should [[Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift ? think ourselves for ever perfect.! 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.

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 charitable2 title from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my 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 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.-I We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own, than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, cominanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can be born! 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 !3

[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? Serv. There comes with them a forerunner, lord, which bears that office, to signify their

sures.

Tim. I pray, let them be admitted.

Enter Cupid.

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.
Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace,
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;
am to thank you for it.

1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best. 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.

Tim. Flatius,-
Flav. My lord.

Tim.

[Exeunt Cupid, and Ladies.

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'd4 then, an he could.
"Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind;
That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.5
[Exit, and returns with the casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men?
Serv.

2 Lord. Our horses.
Tim.

Here, my lord, in readiness.

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

Cupid. Hail to thee, worthy Timon;-and to all
That of his bounties taste!-The five best senses
Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: The ear,
Taste, touch, smell, all pleas'd from thy table rise;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
Tim. They are welcome all; let them have kind
admittance:

Music, make their welcome.

[Exit Cupid. 1 Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you are belov'd.

Music. Re-enter Cupid, with a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.

Apem. Hey-day, what a sweep of vanity comes
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.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatieries, 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

(1) 1. e. Arrived at the perfection of happiness. (2) Endearing.

Accept, and wear it, kind my lord.

1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,-All. So are we all.

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(4) Shakspeare plays on the word crossed: allu(3) Much, was formerly an expression of con-ding to the piece of silver money called a cross. temptuous admiration. (5) For his nobleness of soul. 2 N

VOL. II

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