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I say.

And they'll seem glorious.

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus ? chide me Ulus. O, contain yourself ;

for it. Your passion draws ears hither.

Tro. When many times the captive Grecians fall, Enter Æneas.

Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,

You bid them rise and live. Æne. I have been seeking you this nour, my lord : Hect. 0, 'tis fair play. Hector, by this, is arining him in Troy ;


Fool's play, by heaven, Hector. Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.

Hect. How now ? how now? Tro. Have with you, prince: My courteous lord, Tro.

For the love of all the gods, adieu :

Let's leave the hermit pity with our mother ; Farewell, revolted fair !--and, Diomed,

And when we have our armours buckled on, Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!

The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords ; Ulyss. I'll bring you to the gates.

Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth. Tro. Accept distracted thesk:.

Hect. Fye, savage, fye! (Eseunt Troilus, £xeas, and ULYSSES. Tro.

Hector, then 'tis wars. Ther. 'Would, I could meet that rogue Diomed! Hect. Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day I would croak like a raven ; I would bode, I would Tro. Who should withhold me? bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the in. Nor fate, obedience, nor the land of Mars telligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire ; for an almond, than he for a commodious drab. Not Priamus, and Kecuba on knees, Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery; nothing Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears ; else holds fashion : A bura... devil take them. (Esit. Nor you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,

Oppos'd to hinder me, should stop my way,
SCENE III.—Troy. Before Priam's Palace. But by my ruin.

Re-enter CASSANDRA, with Priam.
And. When was my lord so much ungently temper’d,

Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast : To stop his ears against admonishment ?

He is thy crutch ; now if thou lose thy stay,
Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.

Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
Hect. You train me to offend you ; get you in : Fall all together.
By all the everlasting gods, I'll go.


Come, Hector, come, go back : And. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions ; Hect. No more,

[day. Cassandra doth foresee ; and I myself

Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt,
Where is my brother Hector ?

To tell thee-ihat this day is ominous :

Therefore, come back. And. Here, sister ; arm'd, and bloody in intent.


Æneas is a-field;
Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd

And I do stand engag'd to many Greeks,

Even in the faith of valour, to appear Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night

This morning to them. Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.


But thou shalt not go.
Cast. O, it is true.
Ho! bid my trumpet sound !

Hect. I must not break my faith.
Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet bro. You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,

Let me not shame respect; but give me leave Hect. Begone, I say: the gods have heard me swear. To take that course by your consent and voice, Cus. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;

Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.

Cas. 0 Priam, yield not to him. They are polluted offerings, more abhorr’d


Do not, dear father. Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with you : And. O! be persuaded : Do not count it holy To hurt by being just : it is as lawful,

Upon the love you bear me, get you in.

(Exit ANDROMACIIE. For we would give much, to use violent thefts, Ind rob in the behalf of charity.

Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl

Makes all these bodements. Cas. It is the purpose, that makes strong the vow :


O farewell, dear Hector. Bul vows to every purpose must not hold :

Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale! Unarm, sweet Hector. Hect. Hold you still, I say ;

Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents !

Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out! Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate : Life every man holds dear; but the dear man

How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!

Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement,
Holds honour far more precious dear than life.-

Like witless antics, one another meet,
Enter Troilus.

And all cry-Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
How now, young man ? mean'st thou to fight to-day? Tro. Away!- Away !
And. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. Cas. Farewell.-- Yet, soft.—Hector, I take iny


leave : Hect. No, 'faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. [Exit. I am to-day i’ the vein of chivalry : (youth, Hect. You are amaz'd, my liege, at her exclaim : Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, Go in, and cheer the town, we'll forth, and fight; And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.

Do deeds worth praise, and tell you them at night. Uoarm thee, go; and doubt thou not, brave boy, Pri Farewell: the gods with safety stand about thee! l'il stand to-day, for thee, and me, and Troy.

[Ereunt severally Priam and Blector. Alaruins. Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Tro. They are at it; hark! Proud Diomed, believe. Which better fits a lion, than a man.

I rome to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.

As Troilus is going out, enter, from the other side, Tell lier, I have ch astıs'd the amorous Trojan,

And am her knight by proof.
Serv. I go, my

[Exit Servan Pan. Do you hear, iny lord ? do you hear ? Tro. What now?

Enter AGAMEMNON. Pan. Here's a letter from yon' poor girl.

Agam. Renew, renew! the fierce Polydamus Tro. Let me read. Pan. A whoreson ptisic, a whoreson rascally ptisic Hath Doreus prisoner ;

Hath beat down Meron: bastard Margarelon so troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl; And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam and what one thing, what another, that I shall leave Upon the pashed corses of the kings you one o' these days : And I have a rheum in mine eyes too ; and such an ache in my bones, that, unless Epistrophus and Cedius: Polixenes is slain ;

Amphimacus, and Thoas, deadly hurt; a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't. Patroclus ta'en, or slain; and Palamedes -What says she there? I'ro. Words, words, mere words, no matter froin the Sore hurt and bruis'd: the dreadful Sagittary heart;

[Tearing the letter. To reintorcement, or we perish all.

Appals our numbers ; haste we, Diomed,
The effect doth operate another way.-
Gu, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.-

My love with words and errors still she feeds ; Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles ;
Bút edifies another with her deeds. (Eseunt severally. And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame..

There is a thousand Hectors in the field : SCENE IV.- Between Troy and the Grecian Camp. Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,

And there lacks work; anon, he's there afoot, Alarums : Excursions. Enter TheRsITES.

And there they fly, or die, like scaled sculls Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one another; Before the belching w'ale; then he is yonder, I'll go look on. That dissembling abominable var. And there the strawy G.eeks, ripe for his edge, let, Viomed, has got that saine scurvy doting foolish Fall down before hiin, like the mower's swath: young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm : 1 Here, there, and every where, he leaves, and takes, would fain see them meet; that that same young Dexterity so obeying appetite, Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send That what he will, he does; and does so much, thai Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, That proof is call'd impossibility. back to the dissembling luxurious drab, on a sleeveless errand. O'the other side, The policy of those

Enter ULYSSES. crafty s wearing rascals,--that stale old mouse-eaten

Ulyss. O courage, courage, princes! great Achilles dry cheese, Nestor; and that same dog-fox, Ulysses, Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance; -is not proved worth a blackberry :—They set me Patroclus' wounds have rous'd his drowsy blood, up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that Together with his mangled Myrmidons, dog of as bad a kind, Achilles : and now is the cur That uoseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come w Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend, [him to-day ; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim And foams at mouth, and he is arm’d, and at ii, barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day Soft! here come sleeve, and t'other.

Mad and fantastic execution ;
Enter DIOMEDES, Troilus following.

Engaging and redeeming of himself,

With such a careless force, and forceless care,
Tro Fly not ; for, shouldst thou take the river Styx, As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
I would swim after.

Bade him win all.
Thou dost miscall retire ·

Enter Ajax.
I do not fly; but advantageous care
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude :

Ajar. Troilus, thou coward Troilus !

[Esil. Have at thee!


Ay, there, ihere. Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian ! now for thy Nest. So, so, we draw together. whore, Trojan !--now the sleeve, now the sleeve!

Enter Achilles. (Eseunt Trilus and Diomedes, fighting.


Where is this Hector ? Enter HECTOR.

Come, come, thou boy.queller, shew thy face; Hect. What art thou, Greek, art thou for Hector's Know what it is to meet Achilles angry. Art thou of blood, and honour ?

[match ? Hector! where's llector? I will none but Hector. Ther. No, no: – I am a rascal ; a scurvy railing

(Exeun. knave; a very filthy rogue. Hect. I do believe thee ;-live.


SCENE VI.- Another Part of the Field. Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me ;

Enter Ajax. But a plague break thy neck, for frighting me.

Ajar. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, shew thy head What's become of the wenching rogues? I think, they have swallowed one another : I would laugh at

Enter DIOMEDES. that miracle. Yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself. I'll Dio. Troilus, I say! where's Troilus ? seek them.

[Erit. Ajar,

What would'st thou Dio. I would correct him.

[ottice SCENE V.- The same.

Ajut. Were I the general, thou should'st have my Enter DIOMEDES and u Servant.

Ere that correction :--Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!

Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse ;
Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid :

Tro. O trailor Diomed I-lura thy false face. thou Fe.low, commend my service to her beauty ;


605 ACT V.-SCENE XI. And pay thy life thou ov'si me for my horse !

SCENE IX.- Another Part of the Field. Dio. Ha! art hou ihere? .ljar. I'll fight with hini ainne: stand, Diomed.

Enter Hectoa. . Dio. He is my prize, I will not look upon.

Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without, Pro. Come both, you cogging Greeks; have at you Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. both.

¿Ereunt fighting. Now is my day's work done : I'll take good breath : Enter Hector.

Rest, sword : thou hast thy fill of blood and death!

[Puts off his helmet, and hangs his shield behind him. Hect. Yea, Troilus? O well roughi, my youngest brother!

Enter Achilles and Myrmidons.

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;

How ugly night comes breathing at his heels : Achil. Now do I see thee :-Ha!-Have at thee, Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun, Hect. Pause, if thou wilt.

(Hector. To close the day up, Hector's life is done. Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan. Hect. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek. Be happy, that my arms are out of use:

Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. My rest and negligence befriend thee now,

(Hector falls. But thou anon shalt hear of me again;

So, Ilion, fall thou next; now, Troy, sink down; Till when, go seek thy fortune.

(Erit. Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.Hect.

Fare thee well :- On, Myrnidons; and cry you all amain,
I would have been much more a fresher man, Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.
Had I expected thee.—How now, my brother?

[A retreat sounded. Re-enter Troilus.

Harx ! a retreat upon our Grecian part.

Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Tro. Ajax hath ta'en Æneas; Shall it be?

Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, And, stickler-like, the armies separate. [earth, He shall not carry him; I'll be taken too, My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed, Or bring him off :-Fate, hear me what I say, Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed.-I reck not though I end my life to-day. [Exit.

(Sheathes his sword. Enter one in sumptuous armour.

Come, tie bis body to my horse's tail :

Along the field I will the Trojan trail. [Ereunt. Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:

SCENE X.-. The same.
No? wilt thou not?-I like thy armour well ;
I'll frush it, and unlock the rivets all,

Enter AGAMEMNON, Ajax, MeVelaus, NESTOR, But I'll be master of it:-Wilt thou not, Least, abide ? DIOMEDES, und others, marching. Shouts within. Why then, fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide. (Exeunt. Agam. Hark, hark, what shout is that?

Peace, drums. SCENE VII.-- The same.


Achilles !

Achilles ! Hector's slain! Achilles !
Enter Achilles, with Myrmidons.

Dio. The bruit is—Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
Achil. Come here about me, you my Myrmidons; .4jar. If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
Mark what I say.-Attend me where I wheel : Great Hector was as good a man as he.
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath ; dgam. March patiently along :- Let one be sent
And when I have the bloody Hector found,

To pray Achilles see us at our tent.-Empale him with your weapons round about; If in his death the gods have us befriended, In fellest manner execute your arms.

Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye :

[Eseunt, marching. It is decreed-Hector the great must die. [Exeunt.

SCENE XI.-Another Part of the Field.
SCENE VIII.- The same.

Enter Æneas and Trojans.
Enter MENELAUS and Paris, fighting :

Æne. Stand, bo ! yet are we masters of the field : then THERSITES.

Never go home ; here starve we out the night. Ther. The cuckold, and the cuckold-maker are at

Enter TROILUS. it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo ! now my double-henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, 'loo! The Tro. Hector is slain. bull has the game :-'ware horns, hu!


Hector ?-The gods forbid' (Eseunt Paris and MENELAUS. Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail,

In beastly sort, dragg‘d through the shameful field. Enter MARGARELON.

Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed ! Mar. Turn, slave, and fight.

Sit gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy! Ther. What art thou ?

I say, at once, let your brief plagues be mercy, Mar. A bastard son of Priain's.

And linger not our sure destructions on ! Ther. I am a bastard too : I love bastards : I am Æne. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. a bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so : bastard in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death ; bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one But dare all imminence, that gods and men, bastard ? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to Address their dangers in. Hector is gone us. if the son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba ? judgment: Farewell, bastard.

Let him, that will a screech-owl aye be callid, Mar. The devil take thee, coward ! (Eseunt. Go in to Truy, and say there— Hector's dead



There is a word will Priam turn to stone :

! Pan. A goodly med'cine for my aching bones ! Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives, O world! world! world! thus is the poor agent Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word, despised ! O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away : you set a'work, and how ill requited! Why should Hector is dead; there is no more to say.

our endeavour be so loved, and the performance so Stay yet ;-You vile abominable tents,

loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it!Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,

Let me see:
Let Titan rise as early as he dare, [coward ! Pull merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
I'll through and through you! And thou, great-siz'd Till he hath lost his honey, and his sting.
No space of earth shall sunder our two hates ; And Leing once subdued in armed tail,
I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,

Sweet honey and sweet uotes together fail.-That nouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.- Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths Strike a free march to Troy!—with comfort go :

As many as be here of pander's hall, Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. [Exeunt Æneas and Trojans. Or, if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall : As Trouwus is going out, enter, from the other side, Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.

Brethren, and sisters, of the hold-door trade,

Some two months hence my will shall here be made Pan. But hear you, hear you !

It should be now, but that my fear is this,Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss : Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name. Till then I'll sweat, and seek about for eases ;

[Exit Troilus. And, at that time, bequeath you my diseases. (Erit.

This play is more correctly written than most of Shak. seem to have been the favourites of the writer, they are of the speare's compositions, but it is not one of those in which either superficial kind, and exhibit more of manners than nature; but the extent of his views or elevation of his fancy is fully dis. they are copiously filled and powerfully impressed. Shakspeare played. As the story abounded with materials, he has exerted has in his story followed, for the greater part, the old book of liule furention ; but he has diversified his characters with great Caxton, which was then very popular; but the character of variety, and preserved them with great exactness. His vicious Thersites, of which it makes no mention, is a proof that this characters disgast but cannot corrupt, for both Cressida and play was written after Chapman bad published his version of Pandarus are detested and contemned. The comic characters' Homer.-JOHNSON.


OF ATHENS. There is no edition of this play previous to that of 1623. The, There is an old Ms. play on the same subject, which was for date of its production rests on mere conjecture. Malone sup. merly in the possession of Mr. Stratt the engraver, and poses it to have been writtea in .1610, and Mr. Chalmers in which, according to Steevens, was written or transcribed in 1601, or 602.

1600. Though evidently the work of a scholar, it is a most The subject is from Plutarch's Life of Antony, which Shak- wretched production; but as it contains a faithful steward,

speare might have read in North's trads ation. The passage and a mock banqueting scene, the critics bave imagined that respecting limon is as follows :-“ Antonius forsook the citie Shakspeare must have seen the MS. before he commenced his and companie of his friends, saying, that he would lead fi. own work apon the subject. It is perhaps rather unfair, og mon's life, because he had the like wrong offered him that such uncertain grounds, to accuse Shakspeare as the plagia. was offered into limon; and for the unthankfulness of those rist, and acquit the unknown author.--The circumstance ! he had done good unto, and whom he tooke to be his friendes, he Timon's becoming possessed of great sums of gold is takea was angry with all men, and would trust no man,

from Lucian.

Timon, a noble Athenian.
Lucius, Lucullus, SEMPRONIUS, Lords, and

flatterers of Timon.
VENTIDIUS, one of ř'imon's fulse friends.
APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher.
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian general.
FLAVIUS, steward to Timon.
FLAMINIUS, Lucilius, SERVilius, Timon's servants.
Capulis, PALOTUS, Titus, Lucius, HORTENSIUS,

servants to Timon's creditors.
Two Servants of Varro.
The Servant of Isidore.
Two of Timon's Creditors.
Cupid and Maskers.
Three Strangers.
Poet. Painter. Jeweller. Merchant.
An old Athenian. A Page. A Fool.
PHRYNIA, TIMANDRA, mistresses to Alcibiades.
Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Thieves,

and Attendants.
SCENE, -Aruens; and the woods adjoining.

SCENE I.-Athens. A Hall in Timon's ridur.
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchont, and others,

at several dvor's.
Poet. Good day, sir.

I am glad you are well.
Poet. I have not seen you long, How goes the
Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.

(world? Poet.

Ay, that's well known : But what particular rarity? what

Which manifold record not matches ! See,
Magic 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, 0, 'tis a worthy lord !

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

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He passes.

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 have prais'd the vile

It stains the glory in that happy verse


Nay, sir, but hear me on. Which aptly sings the good.

All those which were his fellows but of late, Mer. 'Tis a good forn. (Looking at the jewel. (Some better than his value,) on the moment Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance

Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedica. Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, To the great lord.

(tion Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him Poet.

A thing slipp'd idly from me, Drink the free air. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes


Ay, marry, what of these? From whence 'tis nourished : The fire i'the Aint Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, Shews not, till it be struck; our gentle flame Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants, Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies

Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Each bound it chafes. What have you there? (forth? Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,

Pain. A picture, sir.And when comes your book Not one accompanying his declining foot.
Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

Puin. 'Tis common :
Let's see your piece.

A thousand moral paintings I can shew, Pain. 'Tis a good piece.

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune Pret. So 'tis : this comes off well and excellent. More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well, Pain. Indifferent.

To shew lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen Puet. Admirable : How this grace

The foot above the head. Speaks his own standing! what a mental power

Trumpets sound. Enter Timon, attended; the SerThis eye shoots forth ! how big imagination

vant of Ventidius talking with him. Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.


Imprison'd is he, say you ? Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life.

Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord : five talents is his debt; Here is a touch ; Is't good ?

His means most short, his creditors most strait. Poet.

I'll say of it,

Your honourable letter he desires It tutors nature : artificial strife

To those have shut him up; which failing to him, Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Periods his comfort.

Noble Ventidius' Well ;
Enter certain Senators, and pass over. I am not of that feather, to shake off
Pain. How this lord's follow'd !

My friend when he must need me. I do know him Poet. The senators of Athens :--Happy men ! A gentleman, that well deserves a help, Pain. Look, more!

Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visi

Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man [tors

. And, being enfranchis’d, bid him come to me :

Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransome; Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment: My free drift 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, Halts not particularly, but moves itself

But to support him after.-Fare you well. lo a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice

Ven. Serv All happiness to your honour! (Exit. Infects one comma in the course I hold;

Enter an old Athenian. But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Leaving no tract behind.


Freely, good father. Pain. How shall I understand you ?

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius. Poet.

l'll unbolt to you.

Tim. I have so : What of him? You see how all conditions, how all minds,

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. (As well of glib and slippery creatures, as

Tim. Attends he here, or no ?-Lucilius !
Of grave and austere quality,) tender down
Their services to lord l'imon: his large fortune,

Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,

Luc. Here, at your lordship’s service. Subdues and properties to his love and tendance Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creaAll sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer By night frequents my house. I am a man [ture, To A pemantus, that few things loves better That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift; Than to abhor himself: even he drops down And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd, The knee before him, and returns in peace

Than one which holds a trencher. Most rich in Timon's nod.


Well; what further ? Pain.

I saw them speak together. Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill, On whom I may confer what I have got:
Feign's Fortune to be thron’d: The base o'the mount The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
Is rank'd with all deserts, all kinds of natures, And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere

In qualities of the best. This man of thine
To propagate their states : amongst them all, Attempts her love : I prythee, noble lord,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, Join with me to forbid him her resort ;
One do I personate of lord Timon's frame,

Myself have spoke in vain.
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her ; Tim.

The man is honest Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon : Translaies his rivals.

His honesty rewards him in itself, Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope.

It must not bear my daughter. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, Tim.

Does she love him? With one man beckon'd from the rest below,

Old Ath. She is young,


apt: Bowing his head against the steepy mount

Our own precedent passions do instruct us
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd What levity's in youth.
In our condition.

Tim. (To Lucilius.] Love you the maid?

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