Pain. Ay, marry, what of these? Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, Spurns down her late-belov'd, all his dependants, A thousand moral paintings I can show, That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; the Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? To those have shut him up; which failing to him, Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well; I am not of that feather, to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him. Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me:"Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after.-Fare you well. [Exit. 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 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 lorship's service. [creature, Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy 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? a Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, Tim. The man is honest. Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon: Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young, and apt: Tim. [To Lucilius] Love you the maid? Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she 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: 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 state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [Exeunt Luc. and old Ath. Tim. Pain. The gods preserve you ! Jew. Jew. What, my lord? dispraise? My lord, 'tis rated As those, which sell, would give: But you well know, Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, Tim. Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common Which all men speak with him. [tongue, Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid? Enter APEMANTUS. Jew. We will bear 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 know'st Apem. Are they not Athenians? [them not, Tim. Yes. Apem. Then I repent not. Jew. You know me, Apemantus. 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. Tim. How likest thou this picture, 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. You 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. An thou shouldst, thou❜dst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies, Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. Apem. So thou apprehend'st 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 dost thou think 'tis worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How now, poet? Poet. How now, philosopher?" Apem. Thou liest. Poet. Art not one? Apem. Yes. Poet. Then I lie not. Apem. Art not a poet? Poet. Yes. Apem. Then thou liest: 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'the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus? Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart. Tim. What, thyself? Tim. Wherefore? Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.-Art not thou a merchant? Mer. 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 sound. Enter a Servant. Tim. What trumpet's that? Serv. "Tis Alcibiades, and Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.— [Exeunt some Attendants. You must needs dine with me:-Go not you hence, Till I have thank'd you; and, when dinner's done, Show me this piece.-I am joyful of your sights.— Enter ALCIBIADES, with his Company. Most welcome, sir! So, so; there! [They salute. Aches contract and starve your supple joints!— That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves, And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey. Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, sir: [Exeunt all but Apemantus. Enter two Lords. 1 Lord. What time a-day is't, Apemantus? |