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  • Title: Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)

    • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)

    Timon of Athens. 81
    With one man becken'd from the rest below,
    95Bowing his head against the steepy Mount
    To climbe his happinesse, would be well exprest
    In our Condition.
    Poet. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
    All those which were his Fellowes but of late,
    100Some better then his valew; on the moment
    Follow his strides, his Lobbies fill with tendance,
    Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare,
    Make Sacred euen his styrrop, and through him
    Drinke the free Ayre.
    105Pain. I marry, what of these?
    Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
    Spurnes downe her late beloued; all his Dependants
    Which labour'd after him to the Mountaines top,
    Euen on their knees and hand, let him sit downe,
    110Not one accompanying his declining foot.
    Pain. Tis common:
    A thousand morall Paintings I can shew,
    That shall demonstrate these quicke blowes of Fortunes,
    More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well,
    115To shew Lord Timon, that meane eyes haue seene
    The foot aboue the head.

    Trumpets sound.
    Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously
    to euery Sutor.

    120Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?
    Mes. I my good Lord, fiue Talents is his debt,
    His meanes most short, his Creditors most straite:
    Your Honourable Letter he desires
    To those haue shut him vp, which failing,
    125Periods his comfort.
    Tim. Noble Ventidius, well:
    I am not of that Feather, to shake off
    My Friend when he must neede me. I do know him
    A Gentleman, that well deserues a helpe,
    130Which he shall haue. Ile pay the debt, and free him.
    Mes. Your Lordship euer bindes him.
    Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransome,
    And being enfranchized bid him come to me;
    'Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble vp,
    135But to support him after. Fare you well.
    Mes. All happinesse to your Honor. Exit.

    Enter an old Athenian.
    Oldm. Lord Timon, heare me speake.
    Tim. Freely good Father.
    140Oldm. Thou hast a Seruant nam'd Lucilius.
    Tim. I haue so: What of him?
    Oldm. Most Noble Timon, call the man before thee.
    Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucillius.
    Luc. Heere at your Lordships seruice.
    145Oldm. This Fellow heere, L. Timon, this thy Creature,
    By night frequents my house. I am a man
    That from my first haue beene inclin'd to thrift,
    And my estate deserues an Heyre more rais'd,
    Then one which holds a Trencher.
    150Tim. Well: what further?
    Old. One onely Daughter haue I, no Kin else,
    On whom I may conferre what I haue got:
    The Maid is faire, a'th'youngest for a Bride,
    And I haue bred her at my deerest cost
    155In Qualities of the best. This man of thine
    Attempts her loue: I prythee (Noble Lord)
    Ioyne with me to forbid him her resort,
    My selfe haue spoke in vaine.
    Tim. The man is honest.
    160Oldm. Therefore he will be Timon,
    His honesty rewards him in it selfe,
    It must not beare my Daughter.
    Tim. Does she loue him?
    Oldm. She is yong and apt:
    165Our owne precedent passions do instruct vs
    What leuities in youth.
    Tim. Loue you the Maid?
    Luc. I my good Lord, and she accepts of it.
    Oldm. If in her Marriage my consent be missing,
    170I call the Gods to witnesse, I will choose
    Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world,
    And dispossesse her all.
    Tim. How shall she be endowed,
    If she be mated with an equall Husband?
    175Oldm. Three Talents on the present; in future, all.
    Tim. This Gentleman of mine
    Hath seru'd me long:
    To build his Fortune, I will straine a little,
    For 'tis a Bond in men. Giue him thy Daughter,
    180What you bestow, in him Ile counterpoize,
    And make him weigh with her.
    Oldm. Most Noble Lord,
    Pawne me to this your Honour, she is his.
    Tim. My hand to thee,
    185Mine Honour on my promise.
    Luc. Humbly I thanke your Lordship, neuer may
    That state or Fortune fall into my keeping,
    Which is not owed to you. Exit
    Poet. Vouchsafe my Labour,
    190And long liue your Lordship.
    Tim. I thanke you, you shall heare from me anon:
    Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend?
    Pain. A peece of Painting, which I do beseech
    Your Lordship to accept.
    195Tim. Painting is welcome.
    The Painting is almost the Naturall man:
    For since Dishonor Traffickes with mans Nature,
    He is but out-side: These Pensil'd Figures are
    Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke,
    200And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance
    Till you heare further from me.
    Pain. The Gods preserue ye.
    Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand.
    We must needs dine together: sir your Iewell
    205Hath suffered vnder praise.
    Iewel. What my Lord, dispraise?
    Tim. A meere saciety of Commendations,
    If I should pay you for't as 'tis extold,
    It would vnclew me quite.
    210Iewel. My Lord, 'tis rated
    As those which sell would giue: but you well know,
    Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
    Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu't deere Lord,
    You mend the Iewell by the wearing it.
    215Tim. Well mock'd. Enter Apermantus.
    Mer. No my good Lord, he speakes ye common toong
    Which all men speake with him.
    Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid?
    Iewel. Wee'l beare with your Lordship.
    220Mer. Hee'l spare none.
    Tim. Good morrow to thee,
    Gentle Apermantus.
    gg2 Aper.
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