TIMON of A THEN $.

Vol. V.

А

Timon, a noble Athenian.
Lucius,
Lucullus, Lords, and flatterers of Timon.
Sempronius,
Ventidius, one of Timon's false Friends.
Apemantus, a churlish Philosopher.
Alcibiades, an Athenian General.
Flavius, Steward to Timon.
Flaminius,
Lucilius, Timon's Servants.
Servilius,
Caphis,
Philotus,
Titus,

Servants to Timon's Creditors.
Lucius,
Hortensius,
Two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of Isidore; two. of

Timon's Creditors.
Cupid and Maskers. Three Strangers.
Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant.
An old Athenian. A Page. A Fool.

Timandra

, } Mistreses to Alcibiades .

Other Lords, Senators, Oficers, Soldiers, Thieves, and At

tendants.

SCENE, Athens; and the Woods adjajning.

TIMON of AT HEN S.

ACT I. SCENE I. Athens. A Hall in Timon's House. Enter Poet, Painter, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and

Others, at several doors.

Poet. Good day, fir.
Pain. I am glad you are well:
Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the world?
Pain. It wears, fir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known:
But what particular rarity ? what 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; t'other's a jeweller.
Mær. O, 'tis a worthy lord !
Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.

Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness :

He paffes.

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 bave prais'd the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
IVhich aptly si!igs the good.

Mer. 'Tis a good form. [Looking on the jewel.
Jew. And rich : here is a water, look

you. Pain. You are rapt, fir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord.

Poet. 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
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?

Poer. Upon the heels of my presentment, fir.
Let's see your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.
Poer. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.
Pain. Indifferent.

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 say of it,
It tutors nature : artificial strife
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!