Imatges de pàgina
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Enter an old Athenian. Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim. Freely, good father. Old Ath. Thou hast a fervant named Lucilius. Tim. I have fo: what of himn ? Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before Tim. Attends he here or no? Lucilius! [thee.

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
That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And

my estate deserves an heir more raised Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well : what further ?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin elfe, 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 deareft 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 honefty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does she love him?

(4) Therefore he will be, Timon.] The thought is closely expressed, and obscure; but this seems the meaning. If the dian be honest, my Lord, for that reason he will be fo in this, and not endeavour at the injustice of gaining my daughter without my copseat,

Mr Warburton.

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

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

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be mifI call the gods to witness, I will chuse

(fing, Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispofsels her all.

Tim. How shall she be endowed, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old sth. Three talents on the present, in future

all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath ferved me

Jong; To build his fortune I will strain a little; For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter : What you beitow, in Irim 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 pro

mile. Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may That state, or fortune, fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you. [Exe. Luc. and Old Ath. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your

Lordship! 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 Your Lordthip to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man:
For fince dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: penciled figures are
VOL. X.

B

Even such as they give out. I like your work;
And
you

fliall find I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.
Pain. The gods preserve ye!

Tim. Wellfare you,gentleman: give me your hand: We must needs dine together : Sir, your jewel Hath suffered under praise.

Jew. What, my Lord? dispraife?

Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for’t as 'tis extolled,
It would unclew me quite.

Few. My Lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give: but you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are by their masters prized: believe't, dear Lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

Tim. Well mocked.

Mer. No, my good Lord, he speaks the comWhich all men speak with him. [mon tongue, 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

honest.
Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou

knowest them not.
Apem. Are they not Athenians?
Tim. Yes.
Apem. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus. [name.
Apem. Thou knowelt I do, I called thee by thy
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.

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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.
Tim. How likest thou this pi&ture, 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. 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 shouldīt, thou’dft anger ladies.

Apem. O, they eat Lords; so they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lafcivious apprehension.

Apem. So thou apprehendest 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--How now, Poet?
Poet. How now, Philofopher?
Apen. Thou lieft.
Poet. Art thou not one.
Apen. Yes.
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Art not a poet ?
Poet. Yes.

Apein. Then thou lieft : look in thy last work, Where thou hast féigned him a worthy fellow.

Poet. That's not feigned, he is fo.

4pem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be fattered, is worthy o'th' flatterer. Heavens, that I were a Lord !

Tim. What would'ít do then, Apemaneus ?

Apenk. Even as Apemantus does now, hace a Lord with my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?
pem, Ay.
Tim. Wherefore ?
Apem. That I had so hungry, a wit, to be a

Lord. ----(5)
Art thou not a merchant?

Nier. Ay, Apemantus..
Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will

not !
Mer. If Traffic do it, the gods do it.

Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee !

Trumpets found. Enter a Meffenger.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Mef. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse
All of companionship.

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

(5) That I had no angry wit to be a Lorrly? This reading is absurd and unintelligible. But as I have restored the text, it is satirical enough of all confcience, and to the purpose, viz. I would hate myself, for having no more wit than to covet fo infgnificant a title. In the same sense Shakespeare uses lcan-witted, in his Richard II.

od thou a lupatic, kan-witted fool. Mr Warburtas.

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