In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice 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 flatterer, To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself: even he drops down The knee before him, and returns in peace Most rich in Timon's nod. Pain. I saw them speak together. Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill, Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: The base o'the mount 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 sovereign lady fix'd, One do I personate of lord Timon's frame, Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals. Pain. "Tis conceiv'd to scope. To climb his happiness, would be well express'd Poet. Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him 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. 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. Well; Tim. 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'the youngest for å bride, And I have bred her at my dearest cost, In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, 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: Tim. 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. Painting is welcome. Pain. The gods preserve you ! Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: 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 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. Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. 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. 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 |