Poet

Good day, sir.

Painter

I am glad y' are well.

Poet

I have not seen you long: how goes the world?

Painter

It wears, sir, as it grows.

Poet

Ay, that's well known:

But what particular rarity? what strange,

Which manifold record not matches? See,

Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power

Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.

Painter

I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

Merchant

O, 'tis a worthy lord.

Jeweller

Nay, that's most fixed.

Merchant

A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,

To an untirable and continuate goodness:

He passes.

Jeweller

I have a jewel here —

Merchant

O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?

Jeweller

If he will touch the estimate: but, for that —

Poet

Reciting to himself

“When we for recompense have praised the vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse

Which aptly sings the good.”

Merchant

'Tis a good form. Looking at the jewel.

Jeweller

And rich: here is a water, look ye.

Painter

You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication

To the great lord.

Poet

A thing slipped 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 chases. What have you there?

Painter

A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

Poet

Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

Let's see your piece.

Painter

'Tis a good piece.

Poet

So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

Painter

Indifferent.

Poet

Admirable: how this grace

Speaks 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.

Painter

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.

Painter

How this lord is followed!

Poet

The senators of Athens: happy men!

Painter

Look, more!

Poet

You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.

I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,

Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug

With amplest entertainment: my free drift

Halts not particularly, but moves itself

In a wide sea of wax: no levelled malice

Infects one comma in the course I hold;

But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,

Leaving no tract behind.

Painter

How shall I understand you?

Poet

I will 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-faced 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.

Painter

I saw them speak together.

Poet

Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill

Feigned Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount

Is ranked 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 fixed,

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.

Painter

'Tis conceived to scope.

This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,

With one man beckoned from the rest below,

Bowing his head against the steepy mount

To climb his happiness, would be well expressed

In our condition.

Poet

Nay, sir, but hear me on.

All those which were his fellows but of late,

Some better than his value, on the moment

Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,

Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him

Drink the free air.

Painter

Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet

When Fortune in her shift and change of mood

Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependents

Which laboured after him to the mountain's top

Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,

Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Painter

'Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well

To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen

The foot above the head. Trumpets sound.Enter LORD TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him: LUCILIUS and other servants following.

Timon

Imprisoned is he, say you?

Messenger

Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt,

His means most short, his creditors most strait:

Your honourable letter he desires

To those have shut him up; which failing,

Periods his comfort.

Timon

Noble Ventidius! Well;

I am not of that feather to shake off

My friend when he must need me. I do know him

A gentleman that well deserves a help:

Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him.

Messenger

Your lordship ever binds him.

Timon

Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;

And being enfranchised, bid him come to me.

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

But to support him after. Fare you well.

Messenger

All happiness to your honour! Exit.Enter an old Athenian.

Athenian

Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Timon

Freely, good father.

Athenian

Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

Timon

I have so: what of him?

Athenian

Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Timon

Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

Lucilius

Here, at your lordship's service.

Athenian

This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,

By night frequents my house. I am a man

That from my first have been inclined to thrift;

And my estate deserves an heir more raised

Than one which holds a trencher.

Timon

Well; what further?

Athenian

One only daughter have I, no kin else,

On whom I may confer what I have got:

The maid is fair, a' the youngest for a bride,

And I have bred her at my dearest cost

In qualities of the best. This man of thine

Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,

Join with me to forbid him her resort;

Myself have spoke in vain.

Timon

The man is honest.

Athenian

Therefore he will be, Timon:

His honesty rewards him in itself;

It must not bear my daughter.

Timon

Does she love him?

Athenian

She is young and apt:

Our own precedent passions do instruct us

What levity's in youth.

Timon

To Lucilius

Love you the maid?

Lucilius

Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

Athenian

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.

Timon

How shall she be endowed,

If she be mated with an equal husband?

Athenian

Three talents on the present; in future, all.

Timon

This gentleman of mine hath served me long:

To build his fortune I will strain a little,

For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:

What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,

And make him weigh with her.

Athenian

Most noble lord,

Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Timon

My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

Lucilius

Humbly I thank your lordship: never may

That state or fortune fall into my keeping,

Which is not owed to you! Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian.

Poet

Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

Timon

I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:

Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Painter

A piece of painting, which I do beseech

Your lordship to accept.

Timon

Painting is welcome.

The painting is almost the natural man;

For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,

He is but outside: these pencilled figures are

Even such as they give out. I like your work;

And you shall find I like it: wait attendance

Till you hear further from me.

Painter

The gods preserve ye!

Timon

Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand:

We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel

Hath suffered under praise.

Jeweller

What, my lord! dispraise?

Timon

A mere satiety of commendations.

If I should pay you for't as 'tis extolled,

It would unclew me quite.

Jeweller

My lord, 'tis rated

As those which sell would give: but you well know,

Things of like value differing in the owners

Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,

You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

Timon

Well mocked.

Merchant

No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,

Which all men speak with him.

Timon

Look, who comes here: will you be chid? Enter APEMANTUS.

Jeweller

We'll bear, with your lordship.

Merchant

He'll spare none.

Timon

Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

Apemantus

Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;

When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

Timon

Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

Apemantus

Are they not Athenians?

Timon

Yes.

Apemantus

Then I repent not.

Jeweller

You know me, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Thou know'st I do: I called thee by thy name.

Timon

Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Apemantus

Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

Timon

Whither art going?

Apemantus

To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

Timon

That's a deed thou'lt die for.

Apemantus

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Timon

How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

Apemantus

The best, for the innocence.

Timon

Wrought he not well that painted it?

Apemantus

He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.

Painter

Y' are a dog.

Apemantus

Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

Timon

Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apemantus

No; I eat not lords.

Timon

And thou shouldst, thou'ldst anger ladies.

Apemantus

O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Timon

That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apemantus

So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

Timon

How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cast a man a doit.

Timon

What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apemantus

Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

Poet

How now, philosopher!

Apemantus

Thou liest.

Poet

Art not one?

Apemantus

Yes.

Poet

Then I lie not.

Apemantus

Art not a poet?

Poet

Yes.

Apemantus

Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

Poet

That's not feigned; he is so.

Apemantus

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!

Timon

What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

Apemantus

E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.

Timon

What, thyself?

Apemantus

Ay.

Timon

Wherefore?

Apemantus

That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant?

Merchant

Ay, Apemantus.

Apemantus

Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

Merchant

If traffic do it, the gods do it.

Apemantus

Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!

Timon

What trumpet's that?

Messenger

'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,

All of companionship.

Timon

Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. Exeunt some Attendants.

You must needs dine with me: go not you hence

Till I have thanked you: when dinner's done,

Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest.

Most welcome, sir!

Apemantus

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.

Alcibiades

Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed

Most hungerly on your sight.

Timon

Right welcome, sir!

Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time

In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. Exeunt all except Apemantus.Enter two Lords.

First Lord

What time a' day is't, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Time to be honest.

First Lord

That time serves still.

Apemantus

The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.

Second Lord

Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?

Apemantus

Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

Second Lord

Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Apemantus

Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Second Lord

Why, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

First Lord

Hang thyself!

Apemantus

No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.

Second Lord

Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!

Apemantus

I will fly, like a dog, the heels a' the ass.

First Lord

He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,

And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes

The very heart of kindness.

Second Lord

He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,

Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays

Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,

But breeds the giver a return exceeding

All use of quittance.

First Lord

The noblest mind he carries

That ever governed man.

Second Lord

Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

First Lord

I'll keep you company. Exeunt.