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
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Feign’d Fortune to be thron’d. The base o’th’ 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,
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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 conceiv’d to scope.
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
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With one man beckon’d from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express’d
In our condition.
POET Nay, sir, but hear me on: –
All those which were his fellows but of late,
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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?
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POET When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
Which labour’d after him to the mountain’s top
Even on their knees and hands, let him sit down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.
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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
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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.
TIMON Imprison’d 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
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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,
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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 enfranchis’d, bid him come to me.
’Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
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But to support him after. Fare you well.
MESSENGER All happiness to your honour! Exit.
Enter an Old Athenian.
OLD ATHENIAN Lord Timon, hear me speak.
TIMON Freely, good father.
OLD ATHENIAN Thou hast a servant nam’d Lucilius.
TIMON I have so. What of him?
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OLD ATHENIAN
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
TIMON Attends he here or no? Lucilius!
LUCILIUS Here, at your lordship’s service.
OLD ATHENIAN
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
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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.
TIMON Well; what further?
OLD ATHENIAN One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got.
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The maid is fair, o’th’ 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;
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Myself have spoke in vain.
TIMON The man is honest.
OLD ATHENIAN Therefore he will be, Timon.
His honesty rewards him in itself;
It must not bear my daughter.
TIMON Does she love him?
OLD ATHENIAN She is young and apt:
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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.
OLD ATHENIAN
If in her marriage my consent be missing,
I call the gods to witness, I will choose
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Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.
TIMON How shall she be endow’d
If she be mated with an equal husband?
OLD ATHENIAN
Three talents on the present; in future, all.
TIMON
This gentleman of mine hath serv’d me long.
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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.
OLD ATHENIAN Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
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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. Exit.
POET
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
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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:
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For since dishonour traffics with man’s nature,
He is but out-side; these pencill’d 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!
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TIMON Well fare you, gentleman. Give me your hand;
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer’d under praise.
JEWELLER What, my lord, dispraise?
TIMON A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extoll’d,
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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 mock’d.
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Enter APEMANTUS.
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?
> JEWELLER We’ll bear, with your lordship.
MERCHANT He’ll spare none.
TIMON Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
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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.
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APEMANTUS Then I repent not.
JEWELLER You know me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS Thou know’st I do, I call’d thee by thy
name.
TIMON Thou art proud, Apemantus.
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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.
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APEMANTUS Right, if doing nothing be death by th’ law.
TIMON How lik’st 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,
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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?
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APEMANTUS No; I eat not lords.
TIMON And thou shouldst, thou’dst anger ladies.
APEMANTUS O they eat lords; so they come by great
bellies.
TIMON That’s a lascivious apprehension.
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APEMANTUS So thou apprehend’st 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.
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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?
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APEMANTUS Yes.
POET Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS Art not a poet?
POET Yes.
APEMANTUS Then thou liest. Look in thy last work,
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where thou hast feign’d him a worthy fellow.
POET That’s not feign’d, 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’th’ flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
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TIMON What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS E’en as Apemantus does now: hate a lord
with my heart.
TIMON What, thyself?
APEMANTUS Ay.
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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!
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MERCHANT If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS Traffic’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
TIMON What trumpet’s that?
MESSENGER ’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
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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 thank’d you. When dinner’s done
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
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Enter ALCIBIADES, and attendants.
Most welcome, sir!
APEMANTUS So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love amongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
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ALCIBIADES Sir, you have sav’d my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.
TIMON Right welcome, sir.
Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 481