I am glad you're well. 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 conjured to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord. Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: 10 Mer. O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? Few. If he will touch the estimate: but, for that Poet. [Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have praised 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 ye. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord. Each bound it chafes. What have you there? CAPHIS, PHILOTUS, TITUS, servants to Timon's creditors. LUCIUS, HORTENSIUS, And others, A Page. A Fool. Three Strangers. TIMANDRA, mistresses to Alcibiades. Cupid and Amazons in the mask. Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Banditti, and Attendants. SCENE: Athens, and the neighbouring woods. Pain. A picture, sir. When comes your 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 30 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 will say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife Enter certain Senators, and pass over. 41 Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, 50 Pain. How shall I understand you? Poet. I will unbolt 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-faced flat terer Noble Ventidius! Well; I am not of that feather to shake off 100 Old Ath. Tim. Enter an old Athenian. Freely, good father. 110 Old Ath. Thou hast a servant named 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! Old Ath. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, By night frequents my house. I am a man Tim. On whom I may confer what I have got: Tim. 130 Does she love him? Tim. [To Lucilius] Love you the maid? I call the gods to witness, I will choose Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? 140 Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served me long: To build his fortune I will strain a little, Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may My friend when he must need me. I do know That state or fortune fall into my keeping, him Which is not owed to you! 150 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? 200 Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. You're a dog. Apem. Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. 210 Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. Apem. So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. Apem. Art not a poet? Poet. Yes. 220 Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow. Poet. That's not feigned; he is so. 230 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 wouldst do then, Apemantus? Apem. E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. Tim. What, thyself? Apem. Ay. Tim. Wherefore? 240 Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant? Mer. Ay, Apemantus. Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it. Apem. Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger. Tim. What trumpet's that? Mess. "Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, All of companionship. to us. 251 Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide [Exeunt some Attendants. You must needs dine with me: go not you hence Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest. Sec. Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? 270 Apem. Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. Sec. Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well. Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. Sec. Lord. Why, Apemantus? Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none. First Lord. Hang thyself! Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend. Sec. Lord Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! 281 ass. Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes Sec. Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays First Lord. 290 The noblest mind he carries That ever govern'd man. I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. Tim. Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame. They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is he fit for 't, indeed. 31 Apem. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to observe; I give thee warning on't. Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; prithee, let my meat make thee silent. Apem. I scorn 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 'em 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. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: Sec. Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! Methinks they should invite them without knives; Shall we in? Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet 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, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest | man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: served in: FLAVIUS and others attending; Great men should drink with harness on their then enter LORD TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself. Ven. Most honour'd Timon, throats. Tim. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. Sec. Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord. Apem. Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides well. Those healths will make It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here's that | This and my food are equals; there's no odds: Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; Or my friends, if I should need 'em. Rich men sin, and I eat root. 70 Eats and drinks. Much good tdich 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. 79 Alcib. So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. Apem. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! First 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. 90 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 not you 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 ne'er have need of 'em? they were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for 'em, 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 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, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't 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. Sec. Lord. Joy had the like conception in our Music. Re-enter CUPID, with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing. Apem. Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! 140 They dance! they are mad women. 150 I should fear those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me: 'thas 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. Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, First 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: 160 Please you to dispose yourselves. All Ladies. 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! [Aside. There is no crossing him in 's humour: Else I should tell him,-well, i' faith, I should, When all's spent, he'ld be cross'd then, an he could. 'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. |