Timon of Athens

what of these? 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 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 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
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. Old Athenian Lord Timon, hear me speak. Timon Freely, good father. Old Athenian Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. Timon I have so: what of him? 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
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? Old Athenian

One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o’ 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. 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:
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
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 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.

Old 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
The 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 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! 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 more satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extoll’d,
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. 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 call’d 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 You’re 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 An 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 cost 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.