Cupid and Amazons in the masque. Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Banditti, and Attendants. SCENE Athens and the woods adjoining. ACT I. SCENE I. Athens. A hall in TIMON's house. Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several Poet. Good day, sir. Pain. doors. I am glad you're well. Poet. I have not seen you long: how goes the world? Ay, that's well known: Poet. Which manifold record not matches? See, Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. Jew. 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 Which aptly sings the good." Mer. 'Tis a good form. [Looking at the jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look ye. Pain. You're 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 nourish'd: the fire i' the flint What have you there? Pain. A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Poet. Let's see your piece. Pain. "Tis a good piece. Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Poet. Admirable: how this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is't good? Poet. I will say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier than life. Enter certain Senators, and pass over. Pain. How this lord is follow'd! Poet. The senators of Athens: - happy man! Pain. Look, more! Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. Halts not particularly, but moves itself Pain. How shall I understand you? Poet. I'll unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds Pain. Poet. Sir, I saw them speak together. I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: the base o' the mount That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states: amongst them all, Pain. "Tis conceiv'd to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on. 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, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Pain. "Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can show, That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, attended; a Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other Attendants Tim. following. Imprison'd is he, say you? His means most short, his creditors most strait: To those have shut him up; which failing him Well; My friend when he most needs me. I do know him - Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; Tim. Old Ath. [Exit. Freely, good father. 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! Luc. [coming forward] 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 inclin'd to thrift; And my 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, |