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Ifidore,

J

Ventidius, one of Timon's false Friends.

Cupid and Maskers.

Phrynia,

Timandra, Mistresses to Alcibiades.

Thieves, Senators, Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Mercer and Merchant; with divers Servants and Attendants.

SCENE Athens, and the Woods not far from it.

The hint of part of this play taken from Lucian's Dialogue

of Timon.

POPE.

ΤΙΜΟΝ

ΤΙΜΟΝ of ATHENS.

ACTI.

SCENE I.

A Hall in Timon's House.

Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and Mercer,

at feveral doors.

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Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known.
But what particular rarity? what so strange,
Which manifold Record not matches? see,
Magick of bounty! all these spirits thy power
Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant.

Pain. I know them both; the other's a jeweller.
Mer. O'tis a worthy Lord!

Jew. Nay, that's most fixt.

Mer. A most incomparable man, breath'd as it were

To an untirable and continuate goodness.

Jew. I have a jewel here.

Mer. O pray let's fee't.

For the Lord Timon, Sir?

Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but for that

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Poet.

Poet. When we for recompence have prais'd the vile,

It stains the glory in that happy verse

Which aptly sings the good.

Mer. 'Tis a good form.

[Repeating to bimself.

[Looking on 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 flipt idly from me.

Our poefie is as a gum, which issues
From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i' th' flint
Shews not 'till it be struck: our gentle flame

Provokes it self, and, like the current, flies
Each bound it'chafes. What have you there? [forth?
Pain. A picture, Sir: - 'and when' comes your book
Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, Sir.

Let's fee your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.

Poet. So 'tis,

This comes off well and excellent.
Pain. Indiff'rent.

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.

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life:

Here is a touch - is't good?

Poet. I'll fay of it,

It tutors nature, artificial strife

Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain Senators.

Pain. How this Lord is followed!

Poet. The fenators of Athens! happy 'man!

Pain. Look, more!

Poet. You fee this confluence, this great flood of visitors.

1 chases. old edit. Theob. emend.
3 men!
old edit. Theob, emend.

...

...

2 when

I have,

!

!

I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With amplest entertainment. My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves it felf
In a wide fea of wax*; no levell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
"It flies an eagle-flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no track behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet. I'll unbolt to you.

:

You fee how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and flipp'ry 'natures, as
Of grave and auftere quality, tender down
Their service to Lord Timon: his large fortune
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All forts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to'make himself abhorr'd; ev'n he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I saw them speak together.

Poet. I have upon a high and pleasant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o'th' mount
Is rank'd with all deferts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states; amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sov'reign Lady fixt,
One do I perfonate of Timon's frame,

Whom Fortune with her iv'ry hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
Tranflates his rivals.

Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd 7' to th' scope:
This throne, this fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man becken'd from the rest below

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(a) Anciently they wrote upon waxen tables with an iron style.

4 But

5 creatures,

7w...ald edit. Theob. emend.

6 abhor himself;

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