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Tim. Painting is welcome.

The Painting is almoft the natural màn :
For fince difhonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but out-fide: pencil'd figures are
Ev'n fuch as they give out. I like your Work;
And you fhall find, I like it: wait attendance
'Till you hear further from me.

Pain. The Gods preserve ye!

Tim. Well fare you, gentleman; Give me your hand,
We must needs dine together: Sir, your jewel
Hath fuffer'd'under praise.

Jew. What, my Lord? difpraise ?
Tim. A mere fatiety of commendations :
If I fhould pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated

As thofe, which fell, would give: but you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owners,
Are by their mafters priz'd; Believ't, dear Lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

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 it with your Lordship.
Mer. He'll fpare none.

Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. 'Till I be gentle, ftay for thy good-morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and thefe knaves honeft. Tim. Why doft thou call them knaves, thou know'ft

them not.

Apem. Are they not Athenians.
Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus.

Apem. Thou know'ft I do, I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apementus.

Аретка

Apem. Of nothing fo much, as that I am not like Timon.

Tim. Whither art going?

- Apem. To knock out an honeft 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'ft thou this Picture, Apemantus?
Apem. The beft, 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 fhe, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?

Apem. No, I eat not Lords.

Tim. If thou shouldft, thoudft anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat Lords; fo they come by great bellies.

Tim. That's a lafcivious apprehenfion.

Apem. So, thou apprehend'ft it. Take it for thy labour. Tim. How doft thou like this jewel, Apemantus ? Apem. Not fo well as Plain-dealing, which will not

coft a man a doit.

Tim. What doft thou think 'tis worth?

Apem. Not worth my thinking-
Poet. How now, Philofopher?

Apem. Thou lieft.

Poet. Art thou not one?

[blocks in formation]

How now, Poet?

Apem. Then thou lieft: look in thy laft work, where thou haft feign'd him a worthy fellow.

Poet. That's not feign'd, he is fo.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He, that loves to be flatter'd, is worthy o'th' flatterer. Heav'ns, that I were a Lord!

Tim. What would't do then, Apemantus?

Apem. Ev'n as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had so hungry a wit, to be a Lord.-(5) Art thou not a Merchant ?

Mer. Ay, Apemantus?

Apem. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not! Mer. If Traffick do it, the Gods do it.

Apem. Traffick's thy God, and thy God confound thee!

Trumpets found. Enter a Meffenger.

Tim. What trumpet's that?

Mef. "Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horfe All of companionship.

Tim. Pray entertain them, give them guide to us; You must needs dine with me: go not you hence. 'Till I have thankt you; and when dinner's done, Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your fights.

Enter Alcibiades with the rest.

Moft welcome, Sir!

[Boring and embracing. Apem. So, fo! Aches contract, and starve, your supple joints! that there fhould be fmall love amongst these fweet knaves, and all this courtesy! the strain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.

Alc. You have fav'd my longing, and I feed Moft hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right, welcome, Sir.

(5) Then I had no angry Wit to be a Lord.] This Reading is abfurd, and unintelligible. But, as I have reftor'd the text, it is fatirical enough of all Confcience, and to the purpose: viz. I would hate myself, for having no more Wit than to covet fo infignificant a Title. In the fame Sense Shakespear ufes lean-witted, in his

Richard the second.
And thou a lunatick, lean-witted, Fool.

Mr. Warburton.

Ere

Ere we do part, we'll share a bounteous time (6)
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt.

Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullus.
Luc. What a time a day is't, Apemantus?
Apem. Time to be honest.

Luc. That time ferves ftill.

Apem. The most accurfed thou, that ftill omitt'ft it. Lucul. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast.

Apem. Ay, to fee meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.
Lucul. Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewel twice.
Lucul. Why, Apemantus?

Apem. Thou shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

Luc. Hang thy felf.

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

Lucul. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll fpurn thee

hence.

Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o'th' afs.
Luc. He's oppofite to humanity.

Come, fhall we in, and tafte Lord Timon's bounty ?
He fure, outgoes the very heart of kindness.

Lucul. He pours it out. Plutus, the God of gold,
Is but his Steward: no meed but he repays
Seven-fold above itfelf; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a Return exceeding

All ufe of quittance.

Luc. The nobleft mind he carries,

That ever govern'd man.

Lucul. Long may he live in fortunes! fhall we in ?
Luc. I'll keep you company.

(6) Ere we depart,

[Exeunt.

]Tho' the Editions concur In this Read

ing, it is certainly faulty. Who depart? Tho' Alcibiades was to leave Timon, Timon was not to depart from his own House. Common Senfe favours my Emendation.

SCENE

SCENE, another Apartment in Timon's Houfe.

Hautboys playing, loud mufick. A great banquet ferv'd in; and then enter Timon, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian Senators, with Ventidius. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus difcontentedly.

Ven.

M

OST honour'd Timon, it hath pleas'd the Gods To call my father's age unto long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich.

Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whofe help
I deriv'd liberty.

Tim. O, by no means,

Honeft Ventidius: you mistake my love;
I gave it freely ever, and there's none
Can truly fay 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 fpirit.

Tim. Nay, ceremony was but devis'd at firft, To fet a glofs on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodnefs, forry ere 'tis shown:

But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray, fit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes,

Than they to me.

Luc. We always have confeft it.

[They fit down.

Apem. Ho, ho, confeft it? hang'd it, have you not? Tim. O, Apemantus! you are welcome.

Apem. No; you shall not make me welcome. I come

to have thee thruft me out of doors.

Tim. Fy, th'art a churl; ye have got a humour there Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame:

They fay, my Lords, that Ira furor brevis eft,

But yonder man is ever angry.

Go, let him have a table by himself:

For he does neither affect company,

Nor

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