Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the

the vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.
Mer.

'Tis a good form. (Looking at the jewel.) Jee. And rich; here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication

Tthe 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
News 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?

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

Pain.

'Tis a good piece.

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.

It tutors nature: artificial strife

I'll say of it,

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! [visitors.

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of
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 track 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 servants

Port.

Admirable: How this grace

Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope, This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon'd from the rest below

Botang his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
In our condition.

Port.

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

Trumpet sounds. 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 of
My friend when he most 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

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 Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.

Tim.

How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband? Call
Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future,
Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me loug;
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.
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 Athenim Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your

Tim.

lordship!

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anoD
Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept.
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 unclew me quite.

Jew.

My lord, 'tis rated

As those, which sell, would give: But you wel

know,

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

Tim.

Well mock'd

Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the comma

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 300o.
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantes.
Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow.
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest
Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thus
know'st them not.

Apem. Are they not Athenians?
Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus.

Apem. Thou knowest, I do; I call thee by thy

Dame.

Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not lik Timon.

Tim. Whither art going?

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. Tim. That's a deed thou 'lt die for.

Does she love him?

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the low
Tim. How likest thon this picture, Apemantus
Apem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well, that painted it
1pon. He wrought better, that made the painte

and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

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

Tim. To Lucilius: Love you the maid

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.

Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.

Apem. Trathic's thy god, and thy god confound thee!

Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Serv.

'Tis Alcibiades, and Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Pray entertain them; give them guide to us. [Exeunt some Attendants.

Ya mast needs dine with me:-Go not you hence, To have thank'd you; and, when dinner's done, how me this piece.-I am joyful of your sights.

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, drop-
ping 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 shewn;

But where there is true friendship, there needs none. 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. Fy, thou art a churl; you have got a humour there

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

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 own peril, Timon; I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athe nian; therefore welcome: I myself would have no power: pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke I should

me,

2 Lord. Why, Apemantus?

Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not!

for

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 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.

Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; 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! 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: Thus, 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 tot;

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

DOW.

Aleib. 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 heart: I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in you, own behalf; and thus far I contirin 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 weep'st to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And, at the instant, like a babe sprung up.

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: (Exit Capt

Music, make their welcome.

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 shews 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
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 adering d TIMON; and, to shew their loves, each singles on an Amazon, and all dance, men with woMEN, 4 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;
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 woud net 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.

[Exeunt Cupid and Ladies

Aside

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 humour; Else I should tell him,-Well,-i'faith, I should, When all's spent, he'd be cross'd then, an he could Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind; That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. (Exit, and returns with the casket. 1 Lord. Where be our men? Sere. Here, my lord, in readiness. 2 Lord. Our horses. Tim.

O my friends, I have one word To say to you;-Look you, my good lord, I must

Extreat 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.

Tim. Ready for his friends.

Арет.

senate

Newly alighted, and come to visit you.
Tim. They are fairly welcome.
Fiat.
I beseech your honour,
Vorrksafe me a word; it does concern you near.
Tim. Near? why then another time I'll hear thee:
I prythee, let us be provided
To shew them entertainment.
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 Enter a third Servant.

Be worthily entertain'd.-How now, what news? 3 Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable tleman, lord Lucullus, entreats your company -orrow to haut with him; and has sent your bonour two brace of greyhounds.

Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be receiv'd, Not without fair reward. Flar. (Aside.)

What will this come to? He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer.

Ne will he know his purse; or yield me this,
Thew him what a beggar his heart is,
Beng of no power to make his wishes good;
Hs promises fly so beyond his state,
Tat 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.
WJ, would I were gently put out of office,
Before I were forc'd out!

Hippier is he that has no friend to feed,

such as do even enemies exceed.

Ieed inwardly for my lord.

[Exit.

Tim. You do yourselves Nach wrong, you bate too much of your own me

rits :

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! In And now I remember me, my lord, you gave d words the other day of a bay courser ide on it is yours, because you lik'd it!

2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.

Tim. You may take my word, my lord; I know,

Do man

fa instly praise, but what he does affect: sich my friend's affection with mine own; Litli you true. I'll call on you. All Lords. None so welcome Tim. I take all and your several visitations od to beart, 'tis not enough to give; wetLinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, Ad e'er be weary.-Alcibiades, itou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich, comes in charity to thee: for all thy living mongst the dead; and all the lands thou hast pitch'd field.

Lib.

Ay, defiled land, my lord. 1 Lord. We are so virtuously bound,— T.m.

- I to you.

And so

2 Lord So infinitely endear'd,— T. All to you.-Lights, more lights! A Lord. The best of happiness, Honour, and fortunes, keep with you, lord Timon!

SCENE 1.-The same. A Room in a Senator's House.

Enter a Senator, with papers in his hand.
Sen. And late, five thousand to Varro; and to
Isidore

He owes nine thousand ; besides my former sum,
Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold:
If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
And able horses: No porter at his gate;
But rather one that smiles, and still invites
All that pass by. It cannot hold; no reason
Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
Caphis, I say!

Caph.

Enter CAPHIS.

Here, sir; What is your pleasure? Sen. Get on your cloak, and haste you to lord Timon;

Impórtune him for my moneys; be not ceas'd
With slight denial; nor then silenc'd, when-
Commend me to your master-and the cap
Plays in the right hand thus:-but tell him, sirrah,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit: I love, and honour him;
But must not break my back, to heal his finger:
Immediate are my needs; and my relief
Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
Put on a most importunate aspéct,

A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
Caph. I go, sir.

Sen. I go, sir?-take the bonds along with you, And have the dates in compt.