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· Which he shall have, I'll pay the debt and free him. Mef
. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransom ; 'And, being enfranchiz'd, bid him come to me ; 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well. Mes. All happiness to your honour ! (Exit.
Enter an old Athenian.
Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy
estaie deserves an heir more rais'd, Than one which holds a trencher.
Tim. Well: what further?
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: The inaid 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 pray thee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort; Myself have spoke in vain.
Tim. The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon.
Tim. Does she love him?
Old Ath. She is young and apt:
What levity's in youth.
the maid ? Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
Tim. How shall she be endowed,
Old Ath. Three talents on the present, in future all.
Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd 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 Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. [mise.
Tim. My hand to thine, mine honour on my pro
Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may That state, or fortune, fall into my keeping, Which is not own'd to you.
[Exeunt Lucilius and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, 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 beleech
Tim. Painting is welcome.
shall find, I like it: wait attendance
hear further from me. Pain. The Gods preserve ye!
[hand, Lim. Well fare you, gentleman; give me your We must needs dine together: Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.
Jew. What, my lord ? dispraise ?
Tim. A mere fatiety of commendations:
Jew. My lord, 'tis rated
Tim. Well mock’d.
Tim. Look, who comes here.
S CE N E III.
Enter Apemantus. : Will you be chid ?
Jew. We'll bear it with your lordship.
honest. Tim. Why doft thou call them knaves, thou know'ft them not.
* Tim. Good morrow to thee gentle:Apemantus ?
When thou art Timon's dog and these knaves honejt.] The first Line of Apemantus's Answer is to the Purpose; the fecond absurd
and nonsensical; which proceeds from the Loss of a Speech dropt from between them, that should be thus restored,
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
[Poet. When will that be ? )
Apem. Are they not Athenians ?
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing fo much, as that I am not like
Tim. Whither art going?
Apem. He wrought better, that made the Painter : and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.
Paint. Y'are a dog.
Apem. Thy mother's of my generation : what's she, if I be a dog ?
Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?
Apeni. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apen. So thou apprehend'it it. Take it for thy Jabour.
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus ?
Apem. Not so well as Plain-dealing, which will not coft a man a doit:
Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth ?
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou haft feign'd him a worthy fellow.
Poet. That's not feign'd, he is fo.
Apem. Yes, he is worthy o' thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o' th' flatterer. Heav'ns, that I were a lord !
Tim. What would'st do then, Apemantus ?
Apem. Ev’n as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my
Apem. * That I had fo hungry a wit, to be a lord.
[thee! Apen. Traffic's thy God, and thy God confound
Trumpets found. Enter a Messenger.
Tim. Pray, entertain them, give them guide to us,
Enter Alcibiades with the rest. Most welcome, Sir!
[Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, so! Aches contrad, and starve, your supple joints !, that there should be small love amongst
* That I had no angry wit to be a lord.] This reading is absurd, and unintelligible. But, as I have restor'd the Text, it is satirical fough of Conscience, viz. I would hate myself, for having no ‘ore wit than to covet fo insignificant a Title.