To those have shut him up; which failing, Periods his comfort. 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; 'T is not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well. Ven Serv. All happiness to your honour! Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. 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! 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 inclin❜d to thrift, And my estate deserves an heir, more rais'd Tim. Well; what farther? Old Ath. One only daughter have I; no kin else, The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, In qualities of the best. This man of thine Tim. The man is honest. Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon: His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter. Tim. Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young, and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity's in youth. Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid? Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all. 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. To build his fortune, I will strain a little, For 't is a bond in men. Give him thy daughter; Old Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [Exeunt LUCILIUS and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept. Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; For since dishonour traffics with man's nature, Even such as they give out. I like your work, Pain. The gods preserve you! Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together. Jew. - Sir, your jewel What, my lord! dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. Jew. Tim. Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him. Tim. Look, who comes here. Will you be chid? Enter APEMANtus. Jew. We'll bear, with your lordship. Mer. He'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus. Apem. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st 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. 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. 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. An thou should'st, thou 'dst anger ladies. Apem. O! they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. Арет. So thou apprehend'st it. Take it for thy labour. Арет. man a doit. Tim. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a What dost thou think 't is worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! 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 would'st do then, Apemantus? Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart. Tim. What, thyself? Apem. Ay. 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! Apem. Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant. Tim. What trumpet's that? Serv. 'T is 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, Enter ALCIBIADES, with his Company. Most welcome, Sir! Apem. So, so, there. Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves, And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey. Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, Sir: [Exeunt all but APEMANTUS. Enter Two Lords. 1 Lord. What time o' day is 't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest. 1 Lord. That time serves still. |