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Timon, a noble Athenian.
Ventidius, one of Timon's false friends.
Alcibiades, an Athenian general.
lords, and flatterers of Timon.
Two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of Isidore; two of Timon's creditors.
servants to Timon's creditors.
Cupid, and Maskers. Three Strangers.
mistresses to Alcibiades.
Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves, and Attendants.
Scene, Athens; and the Woods adjoining.
TIMON OF ATHENS.
SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house.
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors.
GOOD day, sir.
I am glad you are well.
Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the world?
Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.
Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magick of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord! Jew.
Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd*, as it
* Inured by constant practice.
To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes t.
I have a jewel here.
Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?
It stains the glory in that happy verse
'Tis a good form. [Looking at the jewel.
Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
To the great lord.
Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your book forth?
Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let's see your piece.
'Tis a good piece.
Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Pain. Indifferent.
Admirable: How this graceSpeaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.
Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; Is't good?
ti. e. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds. As soon as my book has been presented to Timon.
I'll say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife*
Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
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? Poet. I'll unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds (As well of glib and slippery creatures, as Of grave and austere quality), tender down Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterers,
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
I saw them speak together.
i. e. The contest of art with nature.
+ My design does not stop at any particular cha
One who shows by reflection the looks of his pa