Speaks his own standing! what a mental power Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Poet. I'll say of it, .. It tutors nature: artificial strife" Lives in these touches, livelier than life. Enter certain Senators, and pass over. Pain. How this lord's follow'd! Poet. The senators of Athens:-Happy men! Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man, Pain. How shall I understand you? nature. I'll unbolt' to you. — artificial strife-] Strife is the contest of art with Halts not particularly,] My design does not stop at any single character. JOHNSON. In a wide sea of war:] Anciently they wrote upon waxen tables with an iron style. 9 — no levell'd malice, &c.] To level is to aim, to point the shot at a mark. Shakspeare's meaning is, my poem is not a satire written with any particular view, or levelled at any single person; I fly like an eagle into the general expanse of life, and leave not, by any private mischief, the trace of my passage. 1 I'll unbolt-] I'll open, I'll explain. JOHNSON. Of grave You see how all conditions, how all minds, Pain. 3 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: 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. Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope." This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, To climb his happiness, would be well express'd Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on: -glass-fac'd flatterer-] That shows in his look, as by reflection, the looks of his patron. JOHNSON. 3 of men. rank'd with all deserts,] Cover'd with ranks of all kinds JOHNSON. To propagate their states:] To advance or improve their various conditions of life. JOHNSON. - conceiv'd to scope.] Properly imagined, appositely, to the purpose. JOHNSON. 6 In our condition.] Condition for art. All those which were his fellows but of late, Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? mood, Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants, 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. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt; His means most short, his creditors most strait: To those have shut him up; which failing to him, 7 Rain sacrificial whisperings-] i. e. whisperings of officious servility, the incense of the worshipping parasite to the patron as to a god. through him Drink the free air.] That is, breathe only with his permission. 9 A thousand moral paintings I can show,] Shakspeare seems to intend in this dialogue to express some competition between the two great arts of imitation. Whatever the poet declares himself to have shown, the painter thinks he could have shown better. mean eyes-] i. e. inferior spectators. Noble Ventidius! Well; Periods his comfort. Tim. 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 ran some; 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. Enter an old Athenian. Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim. 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! Enter 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 Well; what further? Tim. 2 your honour!] The common address to a lord in our author's time, was your honour, which was indifferently used with your lordship. On whom I may confer what I have got: The man is honest. Tim. It must not bear my daughter. Tim. Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young, and apt: Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid? Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. 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: Old Ath. "Therefore he will be, Timon:] The thought is closely expressed, and obscure: but this seems the meaning: "If the man be honest, my lord, for that reason he will be so in this; and not endeavour at the injustice of gaining my daughter without my consent." WARBURTON. |