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TIMON OF ATHENS.

VOL. VIII.

B

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

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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 Vašrd, 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

, mistresses to Alcibiades.

Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves, and

Attendants.

SCENE, Athens; and the Woods adjoining.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Athens. A Hall in Timon's House.

Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and Others

at several Doors.

Poet.
Good day, sir.
Pain.

I am glad you are well.
Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes the

world? Pain. It wears sir, 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. Mer. 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 passes.

Jew. I have a jewel here.
Mer. O, pray, let's see't: For the lord Timon, sir ?

1 Inured by constant practice. 2 For continual. 3 1. 4. Exceeds, goes beyond common bounds.

Our poesy

Jew. If he will touch the estimate: But, for that

Poet. When we for recompense have prais'd the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good. Mer.

"Tis a good form.

[Looking at the Jewel. Jew. And rich : here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some de

dication To the great lord. Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from me.

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, fies
Each bound it chafes. What have

you

there? Pain. A picture, sir.–And when comes your book

forth?
Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, 4 sir.
Let's see your piece.
Pain.

"Tis a good piece.
Poet. 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,

* As soon as my book has been presented to Timan.

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