Poet.
Good day ^note, sir.

Pain.
I am ^note glad you're ^note well.

Poet.
I have ^note not seen you long: how goes the world?

Pain.
It wears, sir, as it grows ^note.

Poet.
Ay, that's well known:
But what particular rarity? what strange ^note,
Which ^note manifold record not matches? See,
Magic ^note of bounty! all these spirits thy power
Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. ^note

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 ^note incomparable man ^note, breathed, as it were,
To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes ^note. ^note

Jew.
I ^note have a jewel here— ^note

Mer.
O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? ^note

Jew.
If he will touch the estimate: but, for that—

Poet. [Reciting to himself ^note]
‘When we for recompense have praised the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.’

Mer. [Looking on the jewel ^note]
'Tis a good form.

Jew.
And rich: here is a water, look ye ^note.

Pain.
You are ^note rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication ^note
To the great lord. ^note

Poet.
A thing slipp'd idly ^note from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes ^note
From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint
Shows not till it be struck ^note; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies
Each ^note bound it chafes ^{note note}. What have you there?

Pain.
A picture, sir. When ^note comes your book forth?

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

Pain.
'Tis a good piece ^note. ^{note note}

Poet.
So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

Pain.
Indifferent.

Poet.
Admirable: how this grace
Speaks his own standing ^note! 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 ^note say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife
Lives in these ^note touches, livelier than life. Enter certain Senators, and pass over. ^note

Pain.
How this lord is ^note follow'd!

Poet.
The senators of Athens: happy man ^note!

Pain.
Look, moe! ^note

Poet.
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,
Whom this beneath world ^note doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment: my free drift
Halts not particularly ^note, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax ^note: no levell'd ^note malice

Infects one comma in the course I hold; ^note
But ^note flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no tract ^note behind.

Pain.
How shall I understand you?

Poet.
I will ^note unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and slippery creatures ^note as
Of grave and austere quality, tender down
Their services ^note 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 flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself ^note: even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain.
I saw them speak together ^note.

Poet.
Sir, ^note I have upon a high and pleasant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount ^note
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 ^note Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
Whose present grace ^note to present slaves ^note and servants
Translates his rivals.

Pain.
'Tis conceived to scope. ^note
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, ^note but hear me on.
All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, ^note on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance ^note,
Rain ^note 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 beloved, all his dependants
Which labour'd after him ^note to the mountain's top
Even on their knees and hands ^note, let him slip ^note down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pain.
'Tis common:
A thousand moral ^note paintings I can show,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's ^note
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To show Lord Timon that mean ^note eyes have seen
The foot above the head. ^noteTrumpets sound. ^note Enter ^note Lord Timon, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from Ventidius talking with him; Lucilius and other servants following.

Tim.
Imprison'd ^note is he ^note, say you? ^note

Mess. ^note
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 ^note,
Periods his comfort.

Tim.
Noble Ventidius! Well ^note,
I am not of that feather to shake off
My friend when he must need ^note me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help:
Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him.

Mess. ^note
Your lordship ever binds him ^note.

Tim.
Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;
And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me:
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.

Mess. ^note
All happiness to your honour ^note! [Exit. Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim.
Freely, good father.

Old Ath.
Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

Tim.
I have so: what of him?

Old Ath.
Most noble Timon, call ^note the man before thee. ^note

Tim.
Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

Luc.
Here ^note, at your lordship's service.

Old Ath.
This fellow here, Lord ^note Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man

That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
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' ^note 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 prithee ^note, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
The man is honest.

Old Ath.
Therefore he will be, Timon ^note:
His ^note honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim.
Does she love him?

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

Tim. [To Lucilius ^note]
Love you the maid?

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

Tim.
How shall she be endow'd ^note,

If she be mated ^note with an equal husband?

Old Ath.
Three talents on the present; in future, all.

Tim.
This gentleman of mine hath served me long ^note:
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 ^note.

Luc.
Humbly I thank your lordship: never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed ^note to you! [Exeunt ^note Lucilius and Old Athenian. ^note

Poet.
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! ^note

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 ^note
Your lordship to accept.

Tim.
Painting is welcome.
The painting ^note is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is ^note but outside: these ^note pencill'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 ye ^note! ^note

Tim.
Well fare you, gentleman ^note: give me your hand;

We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd ^note under praise ^note.

Jew.
What, my lord! dispraise?

Tim.
A mere satiety ^note of commendations.
If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew ^note 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 ^note: believe 't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing ^note it.

Tim.
Well mock'd.

Mer.
No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him. ^note

Tim.
Look, who comes here: will you be chid? ^{note note}Enter Apemantus. ^note

Jew.
We'll bear, with ^note your lordship.

Mer.
He'll spare none.

Tim.
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus ^{note note}!

Apem.
Till I be gentle, stay thou ^note for thy good morrow; ^note
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. ^note

Tim.
Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

Apem.

Are ^note they not Athenians?

Tim.

Yes.

Apem.

Then I repent not.

Jew.

You know ^note me, Apemantus? ^note

Apem.

Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name.

Tim.

Thou art proud, Apemantus. ^note

Apem.

Of nothing ^note so much as that I am not like Timon.

Tim.

Whither ^note art going?

Apem.

To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

Tim.

That's a deed thou'lt ^note die for.

Apem.

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Tim.

How likest ^note thou this picture, Apemantus?

Apem.

The best ^note, for the innocence.

Tim.

Wrought he not well that painted it? ^note

Apem.

He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Pain.

You're ^note a dog.

Apem.

Thy mother's ^note of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

Tim.

Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apem.

No; I eat not lords.

Tim.

An ^note thou shouldst, thou'ldst anger ladies.

Apem.

O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies ^note.

Tim.

That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apem.

So thou ^note apprehend'st it ^note: take ^note it for thy labour ^note.

Tim.

How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apem.

Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost ^note a man a doit.

Tim.

What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apem.

Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! ^note

Poet.

How now, philosopher!

Apem.

Thou liest.

Poet.

Art not ^note one?

Apem.

Yes.

Poet.

Then I lie not.

Apem.

Art not a poet?

Poet.

Yes.

Apem.

Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned ^note him a worthy fellow.

Poet.

That's not feigned; he is so.

Apem.

Yes, he is worthy of thee ^note, 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?

Apem.

That I had no angry wit ^note to be ^note a lord. ^note Art not thou ^note 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 ^note thy god; and ^note thy god confound thee! Trumpet ^note sounds. Enter a Messenger.

Tim.
What trumpet's ^note that?

Mess.
'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.

Tim.
Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. [Exeunt ^note some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I have thank'd you: when ^note dinner's ^note done,
Show me this piece. I ^note am ^note joyful of your sights. Enter Alcibiades, with the rest. ^{note note}
Most welcome, sir!

Apem.
So, so, there!
Aches ^note contract and starve ^note your supple joints!
That there should be small love 'mongst ^note these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man 's bred out
Into baboon and monkey ^note. ^note

Alcib.
Sir, you have ^note saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on ^note your sight.

Tim.
Right welcome, sir ^note!
Ere we depart ^note, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in ^note. [Exeunt ^note all but Apemantus. ^noteEnter two Lords. ^note

First Lord. ^note

What time o' ^note day is't, Apemantus?

Apem.

Time to be honest.

First Lord.

That ^note time serves still.

Apem.

The ^note most ^note accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.

Sec. Lord. ^note

Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? ^note

Apem.

Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

Sec. Lord.

Fare thee well, fare thee ^note well.

Apem.

Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Sec. Lord.

Why, Apemantus?

Apem.

Shouldst ^note 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 ^note dog, or I'll ^note spurn thee hence ^note!

Apem.
I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' ^note the ass. [Exit. ^note

First Lord.
He's opposite to humanity ^note. Come ^note, shall we in,
And taste Lord Timon's bounty? ^note he ^note outgoes
The very heart of kindness. ^note

Sec. Lord.
He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance ^note.

First Lord.
The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern'd man.

Sec. Lord.
Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

First Lord. ^note
I'll keep you company ^{note note}. [Exeunt. ^note

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