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PERSONS REPRESENTED. ,

TIMON, a noble Athenian.
LUCIUS,
LUCULLUS, lords, and flatterers of Timon.
SEMPRONIUS,

S
VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends.
APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher.
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian general.
FLAVIUS, steward to Timon.
FLAMINIUS,
LUCILIUS,

Timon's servants.
SERVILIUS,
CAPHIS,
PHILOTUS,
Titus,

servants to Timon's creditors.
Lucius,
HORTENSIUS,
Two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of Isidore;

two of Timon's creditors.
Cupid and Maskers. Three Strangers.
Poet, Painter, Jeweller and Merchant.
An old ATHENIAN. A Page. A Fool.
Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves,

and Attendants.

Pain

Poetr

Pan. Mer. Jews.

SCENE, Athens; and the Woods adjoining.

Theo

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i, a noble Athenian.
S,
LUS,

lords, and flatterers of Timor.
ONTUS,
us, one of Timon's false friends.
NtUs, a churlish philosopher.
ADES, an Athenian general.
's, steward to Timon.

NIUS,

Timon's servants.

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servants to Timon's creditors.

SIUS,

ants of Varro, and the Servant of Isidorej

two of Timon's creditors. d Maskers. Three Strangers. nter, Jeweller and Merchant. 'HENIAN. A Page. A Fool. ls, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves

, and Attendants.

Athens ; and the Woods adjoining.

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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. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some de

dication 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
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.
Paina

'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
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.

Pair Poet

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

sie. The contest of art with nature.

Drew

[graphic]

r. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?
. If he will touch the estimate: But, for that,
t. When we for recompense have prais'd the
is the glory in that happy verse
aptly sings the good.

'Tis a good form.

vile,

(Looking at the Jewel

And rich : here is a water, look you.

deYou are rapt, sir, in some work, some dication

great lord.

A thing slipp'd idly from me. sy is as a gum, which oozes lence 'tis nourished: The fire i’the flint ot, till it be struck; our gentle. fiame

itself, and, like the current, flies ind' it chafes. What have you there? A picture, sir.— And when comes your book forth? Jpon the heels of my presentment -, sir. your piece.

'Tis a good piece. o'tis: this comes off well and excellent. ndifferent.

Admirable: How this grace
own standing! what a mental power
hoots forth! how big imagination
his lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
interpret.
is a pretty mocking of the life.
buch; Is't good ?

I'll
say

of it,
ture: artificial strifes
se touches, livelier than life.

book has been presented to Timon. %. The contest of art with nature.

is my

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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.
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 stirrop, 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,

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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;

Old

His means most short, his creditors most strait :

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