Poe.
Good day, good day, sir.14Q1142

Pai.
I am glad you are well.

Poe.
I have not seen you long; How goes the world?

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

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

Pai.
I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

Mer.
O, 'tis a worthy lord.

Jew.
Nay, that's most fixt.

Mer.
A most incomparable; breath'd ^note, as it were,
To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes.

Jew.
I have a jewel † here:

Mer.
O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?

Jew.
If he will touch the estimate; But, for that,— Poe.
When we for recompence have prais'd the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good. [repeating to himself.

Mer.
'Tis a good form. [looking on the Jewel.

Jew.
And rich: here is a water, look you.

Pai.
You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
To the great lord.

Poe.
A thing slipt idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which issues ^note
From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint
Shews not, 'till it be strook; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies
Each bound it chafes ^note. What have you † there?

Pai.
A picture, sir.
And when comes your book forth?

Poe.
Upon the heels
Of my presentment, sir. Let's see your piece.

Pai.
'Tis a good piece.

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

Pai.
Indifferent.

Poe.
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.

Pai.
It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch; Is't good?

Poe.
I will say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators,14Q1143 and pass over.

Pai.
How this lord is follow'd!

Poe.
The senators of Athens;—Happy man ^note!

Pai.
Look, more.

Poe.
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.
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 level'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies ^note an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pai.
How shall I understand you?

Poe.
I'll 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 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.

Pai.
I saw them speak together.

Poe.
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 fixt,
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.

Pai.
'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 exprest
In our condition.

Poe.
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.

Pai.
Ay, marry, what of these?

Poe.
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, ^note let him slip down ^note,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pai.
'Tis common:
A thousand moral paintings I can shew,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune ^note
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To shew lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head. Flourish. Enter Timon, attended; Servant of Ventidius talking with him.

Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you?

Ser.
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 him ^{note note},
Periods his comfort.

Tim.
Noble Ventidius! Well;
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.

Ser.
Your lordship ever binds him.

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

Ser.
All happiness to your honour! [Exit. Enter an old Athenian.

o. A.
Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim.
Freely, good father.

o. A.
Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.

Tim.
I have so: What of him?

o. A.
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim.
Attends he here, or no?—Lucilius! Enter Lucilius.

Luc.
Here, at your lordship's service.

o. A.
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;
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well; what further?

o. A.
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.

Tim.
The man is honest.

o. A.
Therefore he will be, Timon:14Q1144
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim.
Does she love him?

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

Tim.
Love you the maid?

Luc.
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

o. A.
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,
If she be mated with an equal husband?

o. A.
Three talents, on the present; in future, all.

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:
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.

o. A.
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 Athenian.

Poe.
Vouchsafe my &dagger2; labour, and long live your lordship. [presenting his Poem.

Tim.
I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away.—What have you there, my friend?

Pai.
A piece of painting; which I do beseech
Your lordship to accept. [presenting it.

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 ^note 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.

Pai.
The gods preserve you!

Tim.
Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand: [to the Merchant.
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 extol'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 the wearing it.

Tim.
Well mock'd.

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

Tim.
Look, who comes here:
Will you be chid?

Jew.

We'll bear it with your lordship.

Mer.

He'll spare ^note none.

Tim.

Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.

Ape.

'Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow.

Mer.

When will that be?

Ape.

When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

Tim.

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

Ape.

Are they not Athenians?

Tim.

Yes.

Ape.

Then I repent not.

Jew.

You know me, Apemantus.

Ape.

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

Tim.

Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Ape.

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

Tim.

Whither art going?

Ape.

To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

Tim.

That's a deed thou'lt dye for.

Ape.

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Tim.

How lik'st thou this † picture, Apemantus?

Ape.

The best, for ^note the innocence.

Tim.

Wrought he not well, that painted it?

Ape.

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

Pai.

You're a dog.

Ape.

Thy mother's of my generation; What's she, if I be a dog?

Tim.

Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Ape.

No; I eat not lords.

Tim.

An thou should'st, thou'dst anger ladies.

Ape.

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

Tim.

That's a lascivious apprehension.

Ape.

So thou apprehend'st it; take it for thy labour.

Tim.

How dost thou like this † jewel, Apemantus?

Ape.

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

Tim.

What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Ape.

Not worth my thinking.—How now, Poet? ^note

Poe.

How now, philosopher?

Ape.

Thou ly'st.

Poe.

Art not one?

Ape.

Yes.

Poe.

Then I lye not.

Ape.

Art not a poet?

Poe.

Yes.

Ape.

Then thou ly'st: look in thy last work, where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow.

Poe.

That's not feign'd, he is so.

Ape.

Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: He, that loves to be flatter'd, is worthy o'the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim.

What would'st do then, Apemantus?

Ape.

E'en as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart.

Tim.

What, thyself?

Ape.

Ay.

Tim.

Wherefore?

Ape.

That I had so hungry a wit ^note, to be a lord.—Art not thou a merchant?

Mer.

Ay, Apemantus.

Ape.
Traffick confound thee, if the gods will not!

Mer.
If traffick do it, the gods do it.

Ape.
Traffick's thy god, and thy god confound thee! Trumpet. Enter a Servant.

Tim.
What trumpet's that?

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

Tim.
Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.— [Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me:—Go not you hence,
'Till I have thank'd you; and, ^note when dinner's done,
Shew me this piece.—I am joyful of your sights.— Enter Alcibiades, and his Company.
Most welcome, sir. [they salute.

Ape.
So, so; there!—
Aches ^note contract and starve 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.

Alc.
Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.

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

1. L.

What time of day is't, Apemantus?

Ape.

Time to be honest.

1. L.

That time serves still.

Ape.

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

2. L.

Thou art going to lord Timon's feast?

Ape.

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

2. L.

Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Ape.

Thou art a fool, to bid me farewel twice.

2. L.

Why, Apemantus?

Ape.

Should'st have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

1. L.

Hang thyself.

Ape.

No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.

2. L.

Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence.

Ape.

I will fly, like a dog, the heels o'the ass.

1. L.
He's opposite to humanity. Come ^note, shall we in,
And taste lord Timon's bounty? he out-goes
The very heart of kindness.

2. L.
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.

1. L.
The noblest mind he carries,
That ever govern'd man.

2. L.
Long may he live
In fortunes! Shall we in?

1. L.
I'll keep you company. [Exeunt.

Next section