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Enter certain Senators.
Pain. How this Lord is followed !
Poet. The Senators of Athens ! happy man! (2)
Pain. Look, more!

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of vifiters.
I have, in this rough work thap'd out a mai,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment. My free drift
Halts not particular, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax; no levelld malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an eagle-flight, bold, and forth or,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?

Poet. I'll unbolt to you.
You fee, how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and slipp’ry creatures, as
Of grave and auftere quality, tender down
Their service to Lord Timon : his large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All forts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself; e'en he drops dowa
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I saw them speak together.

Poet. I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o'th' moume 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 fov'reign Lady fixt, One do I personate of Timon's frame, Whom Fortune with her iv'ry hand wafts to her,

(2) Happy men !) Thus the printed copies : but I cannot think the poet meant, that the senators were happy in being admitted to Timon; their quality might command that: but that Timon was happy in being follow'd, and caress’d, by those of their rank and dignity.


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Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Translates his rivals.

Pain. 'Tis conceiv’d to th’ scope. (3)
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 expreft
In our condition.

Poet. Nay, 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 whisp’rings in his ear;
Make sacred even his stirrop ; and through him
Drink the free air.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these ?

Poet. When Fortune in her lift and change of mood
Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants
(Which labour'd after to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands,) let him flip 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 Mew Lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.

(3) 'Tis conceiv'd, to scope

This throne, this fortune, Thus all the editors hitherto have nonsensically writ, and pointed, this passage. But, sure, the painter would tell the poet, Your conception, Sir, hits the very scope you aim at. This the Greeks would have render'd, oxotrŐ TUXE", re&ta ad fcopum tendis: and Cicero has thus express’d on the like occasion, Signum oculis deftinatum feris. This sense our author, in his Henry 8th, expresies;

I think, you've bit the mark.
And in his Julius Cæsar, at the conclufion of the first act ;

Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited.


Trumpets found. Enter Timon, addressing himself courteously

to every suitor. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? [To a Messenger Mes. Ay, my good Lord ; five talents is his debt, His means moft short, his creditors most strait : Your honourable letter he desires To those have shụt him up, which failing to him Periods bis comfort.

Tim. Noble Ventidius! well I am not of that feather to shake 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 ; And, being enfranchiz'd, bid him come to me; 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare


well. Mef. All happiness to your honour !

Exter an old Athenian.
Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Tim. Freely, good father.
Old Ath. Thou hast a fervant 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 fervice.

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,

estate deserves an heir more rais'd, Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well: what further ?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'th' youngest for a bride,


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And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the beft. 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.

l'im. The man is honest.

Oid Ath. Therefore he will be, Tiinor. (4)
His honefty 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 paffions do instruct us,
What levity's in youth.

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

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

Tim. How shall she be endowed,
If me 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 buiid his fortune I will strain a little,
For ?ris a bond in men. Give him thy daughter :
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoife,
And make him weigh with her.

Old Aih. Most noble Lord,
Pawn me to this your ho the 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. (Exe. Luc. and old Atheniası,

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

(4) Therefore be will be, Timon.] The thought is closely express'd, 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 confent."

Mr. Warburton.


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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 alınot the natural man :
For firce dishonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but out-fide : pencil'd figutes are
Ev’n such as they give out. I like your work;

Mall 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 suffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my Lord ? dispraise ?

Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
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 Apemantus ! Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good-morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honeft.

Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves, thou know'it Apem. Are they not Athenians ?

[them not? Tim. Yes. Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus.


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