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To climb his Happiness, would be well exprest
Poet. Nay, Sir, but hear me on:
Pain. Ay marry, what of these?
Poct. When Fortune in her shift and change of Mood
Pain. 'Tis common:
Trumpets found. Enter Lord Timon addressing himself cour,
teously to every Snitor.
Mej. Ay, my good Lord, five Talents is his Debt,
Tim. Noble Ventidius! well-
Mes. Your Lordship ever binds him.
Enter an Old Athenian. 0. Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim. Freely, good Father. O. Ath. Thou hast a Servant nam'd Lucilius. Tim. I have so: What of him? 0. Ath. Most Noble Timon, call the Man before thee. Tim. Attends he here or no Lucilius,
Enter Lucilius. Lucil
. Here, at your Lordship’s Service. 0. 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, And my. Estate deserves an Heir more rais’d, Then one which holds a Trencher.
Tim. Well: What further?
0. Atb. One only Daughter have I, no Kin else,
Tim. The Man is honest.
0. Aib. Therefore he will be, Timon, His honesty rewards him in it felf, It must not bear my Daughter.
Tim. Does she love him?
0. Ath. She is young, and apt:
Tim. Love you the Maid?
0. Ath. If in her Marriage my consent be missing,
Tim. How fhall the be endowed,
0. Ath. Three Talents on the present, in future all.
To build his Fortune I will strain a little,
0. Ath. Molt noble Lord,
Tim. My Hand to thee,
Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may
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
Tim. Painting is welcome.
I like your work,
Pain. The Gods preserve ye.
Jew. What my Lord? dispraise?
Tim. A meer faciety of Commendations,
Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated
Timi Look who comes here, will you be chid?
Apem. ’Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow. When thou art Timon's Dog, and these Knaves honest.
Tim. Why dost thou call them Knaves, thou know'st them not?
Apem. Are they not Athenians ?
Apem. Thou know'st I do, I calld thee by thy Name.
Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon. Tim. Whither art going? Apem. To knock out an honest Athenians Brains Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be Death by the Law. Tim. How lik'st thou this Pi&ure, Apemantus ? Apem. The best, for the Innocence. Tim. Wrought he not well that Painted it?
Apem. He wrought better that made the Painter, and yer he's but a filthy piece of work.
Pain. Yare a Dog.
Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?
Apem. O, they eat Lords,
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend's it. Take it for thy Labour.
Tim. How doft thou like this Jewel, Apemantus ?
Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not coft a Man a Doit.
Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking.
Poet. How now, Philosopher ?
Apem. Then thou lieft:
Poet. That's not feign'd, he is fo.
Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy Labour. He chat loves to be fattered is worthy o’th' Hatrerer. Heav'ns, that I were a Lord !
Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus?
Tim. What, thy self
Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.
Mer. Ay, Apemantus.
Trumpet Sounds. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty Horse,
Tim. Pray entertain them, give them guide to us;
Enter Alcibiades with the rest.
Apem. Sɔ, so, their Aches contra&, and starve your fupple Joynts: That there should be small Love amongst these