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Trumpets found. Enter Timon, addreling himself courteculiy

to every suitor. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? [To a Mollenger. Mef. Ay, my good Lord; five talents in his debt, His means moft sort, his creditors molt straight : 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 make off
My friend when he most needs me. I do know him
A gentleman that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have. I'll pay the debt, and free him.

Mes. Your Lordship ever binds him.
Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransom

j And, being enfranchiz'd, bid him come to ine; 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well. . Mej. All happiness to your honour !

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 fo: 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 Lord hip's service.

Old 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,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well: what further ?

Old Aih. One only daughter have I, ro kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: The maid is fair, o'th' 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 pray thee, 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. (4)
His honesty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does the love him?

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

Tim. Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good Lord, and Me accepts of it.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will chuse
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And difpoffefs her all.

Tim. How Thall she be endowed,
If the 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 :
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.
Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may
That fate, or fortune, fall into my keeping,
Which is not ow'd to you. [Exe. Luc. and old Athenian.

Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your Lordship! Tim. I thank you, you shall hear from me anon:

(4) Therefore he will be, Timon.] The thought is closely express’d, and obfcure: 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.”

Mr. Warburton.


Go not away:

What have you there, my friend?
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your Lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man:
For since dithonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but out-lide: pencil'd figures are
Ev'n such as they give out. I like

I like your work;
And you shall find, I like it : wait attendance
'Till you hear further from me.

Pain. The gods preserve ye!

Tim. Well fare you, gentleman; give me your hand,
We must needs dine together : Sir, your jewel
Hath fuffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my Lord! dispraise ?
Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I Tould pay you for't as 'tis extollid,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated
As those, which fell, would give: but you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are by their masters priz'd; 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. Tim. Look, who comes here.

Enter Apemantus.
Will you be chid ?

Jew. We'll bear it with your Lordship.
Mer. He'll spare none.
Tim. Good-morrow to thee, gentle Apemant us !

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

Tim. Why doft thou call them knaves, thou know'st
Apım. Are they not Athenians ? [them not ?
T118. Yes.
Apem. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus,

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Apem. Thou know'st I do, I call’d thee by thy name.
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon.
Tim. Whither art going ?
Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Pim. How likt thou

this picture, Apemantus??
Apm. 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. Y’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. If thou should'st, thou’dft anger Ladies.
Apem. O, they eat Lords; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehenfion.
Apem. So, thou apprehend's it. Take it for thy labour.
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus ?

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

Tim. What doft thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking-How now, poet?
Poet. How now, philosopher ?
Apem. Thou lieft.
Poet. Art thou not one ?
Apem. Yes.
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes,

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

Poet. That's not feign’d, he is so.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He, that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'th' Aatterer. Heav'ns, that I were a Lord! Tim. What would's do then, Apemantus?


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Apem. Ev'n as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with

my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?
Apem. Ay.
Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had so hungry a wit, to be a Lord.-(5) Art thou not a merchant?

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.
Apem. Trafick confound thee, if the gods will not!
Mer. If traffick do it, the gods do it.
Apem. Trafrick’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!

Trumpets found. Enter a Messenger.
Tim. What trumpet's that?

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

Tim. Pray, entertain them, give them guide to us ; You must needs dine with me: go not you hence, 'Till I have thankt you; and when dinner's done, Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your fights.

Enter Alcibiades with the rest. Most welcome, Sir!

[Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, fo! aches contract, and starve your supple joints! that there should be small love amongst there: sweet knaves, and all this courtesy! the strain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.

Alc. You have fav'd my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right welcome, Sir. E’re we do part, we'll Mare a bounteous time (6) In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt.

(5) That I had no angry wit to be a Lord,] This reading is abfuril, and unintelligible. But as I have restor'd the text, it is satirical enough of all conscience, and to the purpose: viz. I would hate myfelf, fors having no more wit than to covet fo insignificaat a title. In the fame sense Shakespeare uses lean-zvitted, in his Ritbard 2d.

And thou a lunatick, lean-witted, fool. Mr. Warton. (6) E're' we depart,---] Tho'the editions corcur in this reading, it is certainly faulty. Who d part? Tho' Alcibiades was to leave Tia mon, Timon was not to depart from his own lioule. Common sense favours my emendation.

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