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It tutors nature: artificial strifes
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
Enter certain Senators, and
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
Poet. The senators of Athens :-Happy men!
Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of
I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man,
Pain. How shall I understand you?
I'll unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
5 i. e. The contest of art with nature.
6 My design does not stop at any particular character. 7 Open, explain.
• One who shows by reflection the looks of his patron. VOL. VIII.
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
Most rich in Timon's nod.
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:9 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.
'Tis conceiv'd to scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him
Ay, marry, what of these?
Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of
9 To advance their conditions of life.
1 Whisperings of
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
Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him.
Imprison'd is he, say you? Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his
His means most short, his creditors most strait :
To those have shut him up; which failing to him,
Noble Ventidius! Well;
I am not of that feather, to shake off
My friend when he must 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. Ser. Your lordship ever binds him.
Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransome; 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! [Exit. 3 i, e. Inferior spectators,
Enter an old Athenian.
Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
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 !
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;
Than one which holds a trencher.
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'ythee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort; Myself have spoke in vain.
The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon :
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.
Does she love him?
Old Ath. She is young, and apt :
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid?
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future,
Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; To build his fortune, I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
And make him weigh with her.
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my pro
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. Poet. 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? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.