Art 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 Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows. [the world? 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; 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 goodness: He passes.

that

Jew. I have a jewel here. [mon, sir? Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the Lord TiJew. If he will touch the estimate: But, for [vile, Poet, When we for recompense have prais'd the 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. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some To the great lord. [dedication 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. What have you there? Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let's see your piece.

Poet.

"Tis a good piece.
Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excel-
Pain. Indifferent.
[lent.
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
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!
[of visitors.
Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood
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
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 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

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, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states: 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 ser-
Translates his rivals.
[vants
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.

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 in his ear,
Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink 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 falling to him, Periods his comfort.

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

Tim. [To Lucmus. Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good ford, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be
missing,

Tim.

I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.
How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in
future, all.
[long;

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me
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.

Most noble lord,

Old Ath. Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. [may Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you!

[Exeunt LUCILIUS and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! (anon; Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me 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 trafficks 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 meer satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, It would unclew me quite.

Jew.

My lord, 'tis rated As those, which sell, would give: But you well know,

Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by wearing it.

Tim.
Well mock'd.
Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the com-

590

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; [none But where there is true friendship, there needs '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?

Tim. O, Apemantus! you are welcome.
Apem.

You shall not make me welcome:

No,

I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Tim. Fie, thou art a churl: you have got a
humour there

Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame :-
They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est,
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.

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 art an
Athenian; therefore welcome: I'myself would
have no power: 'pr'ythee, let my meat make
thee silent.
[for I should
Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me,
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.

I wonder, men dare trust themselves with men : Methinks they should invite them without

[notes: Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous Great men should drink with harness on their throats. [go round.

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 flatteries 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 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. 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 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, [eyes,

Timon.

2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our And, at that instance, like a babe sprung up. Apem. Ho! ho! I laugh to think that babe a

bastard.

[me much.

3 Lord. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd 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?
Serv. There comes with them a forerunner,

mon,

pleasures.

Tim. I pray,

let them be admitted.

Enter CUPID.

Cup. 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:

Musick, make their welcome.

[Exit CUPID

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

Musick. 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 They dance! they are mad women. [this way 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 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?

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 hautboy, 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;
I 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 Attend 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 honour; [Aside. Else I should tell him,-Well i' faith, I should, When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he "Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind; [could. That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. [Exit, and returns with the casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men? Serv.

Here, my lord, in readiness.

2 Lord. Our horses. Tim.

I have one word to say to you: Look, my good
I must entreat you honour me so much,
As to advance this jewel; accept and wear it,
Kind my lord.

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

Enter a Servant.

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 show 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 forcd out!

Happier is he that has no friend to feed,

Than such as do even enemies exceed.
I bleed inwardly for my lord.
Tim.

[Exit. Much wrong, you bate too much of your own You do yourselves

merits :-

Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive it.

3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you

Flav.

I scarce know how. [Aside.

Enter another Servant.

2 Serv. May it please your honour, the Lord Lucius,

Out of his free love, hath presented to you
Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.
Tim. I shall accept them fairly: let the presents

Alcib.

Ay, defiled land, my lord. 1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound,Tim. And so

Am I to you. 2 Lord.

So infinitely endeared,Tim. All to you.-Lights, more lights. 1 Lord. The best of happiness,

Honour, and fortune, keep with you, Lord Tim. Ready for his friends.

[Timon! [Exeunt ALCIBIADES, Lords, &c. Serving of becks, and jutting out of bums! Apem. What a coil's here! doubt whether their legs be worth the sums That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:

Methinks, false hearts should never have sound

legs.

Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on

court'sies.

Tim. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I'd be good to thee.

Apem. No, I'll nothing: for, if I should be brib'd too, there would be none left to rail upon thee and then thou would'st sin the faster. Thou givest so long, Timon, I fear me, thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly: What needs these feasts, pomps, and vaingloried?

Tim. Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am sworn, not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come with better musick. [Exit.

Apem. So-thou'lt not hear me now,-thou shalt not then, I'll lock thy heaven from thee. O, that men's ears should be To council deaf, but not to flattery! [Exit.