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I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still.
That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.-
Strike a free march to Troy!-with comfort go:
Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
[Exeunt ENEAS and Trojans.

AS TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS.

Pan. But hear you, hear you! Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!

[Exit TROILUS. Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching bones!O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a'work,and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed what verse for it? what instance for it ?Let me see:

• Ignominy,

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As many as be here of panders' hall, Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall: Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans, Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. Brethren and sisters, of the hold-door trade, Some two months hence my will shall here be made: It should be now, but that my fear is this,— Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss: Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for cases; And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases.


Canvass hangings for rooms, painted with emblems and mottoes.

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Pain. 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 conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant. Pain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller. Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord!


Nay, that's most fix'd. Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd,' as it were,

To an untirable and contin late2 goodness:
He passes.3

Jew. I have a jewel here.

Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir?
Jew. If he will touch the estimate; But, for that-
Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd the

It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.

'Tis a good form. [Looking at the jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication

To the great lord.
A thing slipp'd 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

Inured by constant practice.
3.e. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds.

Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies
Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Pain. A picture, sir.-And when comes your
book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let's see your piece.
"Tis a good piece.
Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.
Pain. Indifferent.

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.

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch; Is't good?
I'll say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife5
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
Poet. The senators of Athens: Happy men!
Pain. 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 track behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
I'll unbolt to you.
You see how all conditions, how all minds,

As soon as my book has been presented to Timon.
i.e. The contest of art with nature.

• My design does not stop at any particular character.

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'Tis conceiv'd to scope.

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

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.


Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of

Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants,
Which labor'd after him to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot.
Pain. Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune
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 TIMON, attended; the
Servant of VENTIDIUS talking with him."
Imprison'd is he, say you?
Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his

His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honorable letter he desires

To those have shut him up; which, failing to him,
Periods his comfort.

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Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me

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 Ath.
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honor, she is his.
Tim. My hand to thee; mine honor on my pro-


Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship; Never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not ow'd to you!

[Exeunt LUCILIUS and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labor, and long live your lordship!

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.


Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonor traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: These pencil'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.

The gods preserve you!
Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen:-Give me your
We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.


What, my lord? dis praise?
Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

My lord, 'tis rated
As those, which sell, would give: But you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owner.
Are prized by their masters; believe't, dear lord,
[Exit. You mend the jewel by wearing it.
Well mock'd.

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.
Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honor!
Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Freely, good father.
Olt Ath. Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
Tim. I have so: What of him?

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before


Tim. Attends he here, or no?-Lucilius!


Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.


Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common

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He'll spare
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apem

Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good mnor


Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy When thou art Timon's dog, and these Knaves

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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. Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Tim. How lik'st thou this picture, Apemantus? 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. 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 should'st, thou'dst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it; Take it for thy


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Mer. Ay, Apemantus.

Apem. Trafic confound thee, if the gods will not!

Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.

Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee!

Trumpets sound. Enter a Servant. Tim. What trumpet's that? Serv. 'Tis Alcibiades, and Some twenty horse, all of companionship. Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to [Exeunt some Attendants. You must needs dine with me:-Go not you hence, Till I have thank'd you; and when dinner's done, Show me this piece.-I am joyful of your sights.


Enter ALCIBIADES, with his Company. Most welcome, sir! [They salute. Apem. So, so; there!Aches contract and starve your supple joints!That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,

And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out Into baboon and monkey.

Alcib. Sir, you have say'd my longing, and I feed Most hungrily on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, sir: Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt all but APEMANTUS.

Enter two Lords.

1 Lord. What time a day is't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest.

Alluding to the proverb: Plain dealing is a jewel, but they who use it beggars.

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O, by no means,

Honest Ventidius: you mistake my love;

I gave it freely ever; and there's none
Can truly say, he gives, if he receives:

If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; Faults that are rich, are fair.
Ven. A noble spirit.

[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON. Tim. Nay, my lords, ceremony Was but devis'd at first, to set a gloss On faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; But where there is true friendship, there needs

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Tim. O, Apemantus!-you are welcome. Apem.

You shall not make me welcome;


I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Tim. Fye, thou art a churl; you have got a
humor there

Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame :
They say, my lords, that ira furor brevis est,
But yond' man's ever angry.

Go, let him have a table by himself;
For he does neither affect company,
Nor is he fit for it, indeed.

Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, Timon; I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian; therefore welcome: I myself would have no power: pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent. Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should

2 Meed here means desert.

i.e. All the customary returns made in discharge of obligations. Anger is a short madness.

Ne'er flatter thee.-O you gods! what a number
Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not!
It grieves me to see so many dip their meat
In one man's blood; and all the madness is,
He cheers them up too.

I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
Methinks they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
There's much example for't; the fellow, that
Sits next him now,parts bread with him.and pledges
The breath of him in a divided draught,

Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been prov'd.
If I

Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; Lest theyshouldspymywindpipe's dangerous notes: Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

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Cup. Hail to thee, worthy Timon;-and to all That of his bounties taste!-The five best senses Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: The ear,

Tim. My lord, in heart;7 and let the health go Taste, touch, smiell, all pleas'd from thy table rise;


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Alcib. My heart is ever at your service, my lord. Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies, than a dinner of friends.

Alcib. So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat like them; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

Apem. 'Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then; and then thou might'st kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.

1 Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.

Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you: How had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O, you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for them; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benetits: and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to forget their faults, I drink to you.

Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up. Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a


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They only now come but to feast thine eyes. Tim. They are welcome all; let them have kind admittance:

Music, make their welcome.

[Exit CUPID.

1 Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you are belov'd.

Music. Re-enter CUPID, with a Masque of Ladies as Amazons, with Lutes in their Hands, dancing, and playing.

Apem. Hey day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!

They dance! they are mad women.

Like madness is the glory of this life,

As this pomp shows to a little oil, and root.
We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
And spend our flatteries, to drink those men,
Upon whose age we void it up again,

With poisonous spite, and envy. Who lives, that's


Depraved, or depraves? who dies, that bears
Not one spurn to their graves of their friends' gift?
I should tear, those, that dance before me now,
Would one day stamp upon me: It has been done;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The Lords rise from Table with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their Loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, Men with Women, a lofty Strain or two to the Hautboys, and cease. Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,

Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
You have added worth unto't, and lively lustre,
And entertai'd me with mine own device;
I am to thank you for it.

1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best. Apem. Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would

not hold taking, I doubt me.

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet
Attends you: Please you to dispose yourselves.
All Lad. Most thankfully, my lord.

[Exeunt CUPID, and Ladies.

Tim. Flavius,— Flav. My lord. Tim. The little casket bring me hither. Flav. Yes, my lord.-More jewels yet! There is no crossing him in his humor; [Aside. Else I should tell him,-Well,-i'faith, I should, When all's spent, he'd be cross'd' then, an re could. 'Tis pity, bounty had not eyes behind; That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. [Exit, and returns with the Casket.

1 Lord. Where be our men? Serv.

2 Lord. Our horses. Tim.

Here, my lord, in readiness. O my friends, I have one word To say to you:-Look you, my good lord, I Entreat you, honor me so much, as to Advance this jewel;

Accept, and wear it, kind my lord.

1 Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,All. So are we all.

Enter a Servant.


Serv.My lord,there are certain nobles of the senate Newly alighted, and come to visit you.

9 Much, was formerly an expression of contemptuous


1 Shakspeare plays on the word crossed; alluding t

the piece of silver money called a cross. 2 For his nobleness of soul.

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