Pagina-afbeeldingen
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It tutors nature: artificial strife
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord is followed!
Poet. The senators of Athens :-happy men!
Pain. Look; more!

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of

visitors.

I have, in this rough work, shaped 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 levelled malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet.
I will 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-faced 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
Feigned Fortune to be throned: the base o'the

mount

Is ranked 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 fixed,
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 conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckoned from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well expressed In our condition.

Poet. 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.

Nay, sir, but hear me on:

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood,

Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependents, Which laboured 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 lord Timon that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head.

Trumpet sounds. Enter TIMON, attended; the
Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him.
Tim.

Imprisoned 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 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. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. 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.
Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour! [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?

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Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? Apem. The best for the innocence.

Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it? Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. You are a dog.

Apem. Thy mother's 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' thou shouldst, thou 'dst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy

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