Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but for that— Poet. When we for recompence have prais'd the vile, It flains the glory in that happy verfe

Which aptly fings the good.

Mer. 'Tis a good form.

[Looking on the jewel.

Jew. And rich; here is a water, look ye.

Pain. You're rapt, Sir, in fome work, fome dedication

To the great Lord.

Poet. A thing flipt idly from me.

Our poefy is as a gum, which iffues

From whence 'tis nourished. The fire i' th' flint
Shews not, 'till it be ftruck: our gentle flame
Provokes itself,-and like the current flies
Each bound it chafes. What have you there? (1)
Pain. A picture, Sir:when comes your book forth?
Poet. Upon the heels of my prefentment, Sir.
Let's fee your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.

Poct. So 'tis,

This comes off well and excellent.

Pain. Indiff'rent.

Poet. Admirable! how this grace

Speaks his own ftanding? what a mental

power

This eye fhoots forth how big imagination

Moves in this lip? to th' dumbness of the gefture
One might interpret..

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life:
Here is a touch-is't good?

Poet. I'll fay of it,

It tutors nature; artificial ftrife

Lives in those touches, livelier than life.

(1) Each bound it chafes.--] How, chafes? The flood, indeed beating up upon the fhore, covers a part of it, but cannot be faid to drive the fhore away. The poet's allufion is to a wave, which, foaming and chafing on the fhore, breaks; and then the water feems to the eye to retire. So, in Lear.

-The murmuring furge,

That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, &c.

And fo in Jul. Cæfar.

The troubled Tiber, chafing with his shores.

Enter

Enter certain Senators.

Pain. How this Lord is followed!

Poet. The Senators of Athens! happy man! (2)
Pain. Look, more!

Poet. You fee this confluence, this great flood of vifiters.
I have, in this rough work fhap'd out a man,
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
With ampleft entertainment. My free drift
Halts not particular, but moves itself
In a wide fea of wax; no levell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an eagle-flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How fhall I understand you?
Poet. I'll unbolt to you.

You fee, how all conditions, how all minds,
As well of glib and flipp'ry creatures, as
Of grave and auftere quality, tender down.
Their fervice to Lord Timon: his large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
All forts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loves better

Than to abhor himself; ev'n he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Moft rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I faw them speak together.

Poet. I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd. The base o' th' mount Is rank'd with all deferts, all kind of natures, That labour on the bofom of this sphere To propagate their ftates; amongst them all, Whofe eyes are on this fov'reign Lady fixt, One do I perfonate of Timon's frame, Whom Fortune with her iv'ry hand wafts to her,

(2) Happy men!] Thus the printed copies: but I cannot think the poet meant, that the fenators were happy in being admitted to Timon; their quality might command that: but that Timon was happy in being follow'd, and carefs'd, by thofe of their rank and dignity.

F 2

Whole

Whofe prefent grace to present slaves and fervants
Tranflates his rivals.

Pain. 'Tis conceiv'd to th' scope. (3)

This throne, this fortune, and this hill, methinks,
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head againft the fteepy mount
To climb his happinefs, would be well expreft
In our condition.

Poet. Nay, but hear me on:

All thofe which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment
Follow his ftrides; his lobbies fill with tendance;
Rain facrificial whifp'rings in his ear;

Make facred even his ftirrop; and through him
Drink the free air.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune in her fhift and change of mood Spurns down her late belov'd, all his dependants (Which labour'd after to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands,) let him flip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot. Pain. "Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can fhew,

That shall demonftrate thele quick blows of fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To fhew Lord Timom, that mean eyes have feen
The foot above the head.

(3) 'Tis conceiv'd, to scope

This throne, this fortune, &c.] Thus all the editors hitherto have nonfenfically writ, and pointed, this paffage. But, fure, the painter would tell the poet, your conception, Sir, hits the very scope you aim at. This the Greeks would have render'd, tỸ oxoπỸ Tuxeîs, recta ad fcopum tendis: and Cicero has thus express'd on the like occafion, Signum oculis definatum feris. This fenfe our author, in his Henry 8th, expreffes;

I think, you've hit the mark.

And in bis Julius Cæfar, at the conclufion of the first act;
Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You have right well conceited.

Trumpets

Trumpets found. Enter Timon, addreffing himself courteously to every fuitor..

Tim. Imprifon'd is he, fay you? [To a Meffenger.
Mef. Ay, my good Lord; five talents in his debt,
His means moft fhort, his creditors most straight:
Your honourable letter he defires

To thofe have fhut him up, which failing to him
Periods his comfort.

Tim. Noble Ventidius! well

I am not of that feather to shake off

My friend when he moft needs me. I do know him A gentleman that well deferves a help,

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 fend his ranfom;

And, being enfranchiz'd, bid h'm come to me;

Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

But to fupport him after. Fare you well.
Mef. All happinefs to your honour !
Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me fpeak.

Tim. Freely, good father.

Old Ath. Thou haft a fervant nam'd Lucilius.

Tim. I have fo: what of him?

[Exit.

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. Tim. Attends he here or no? Lucilius !

Enter Lucilius.

Luc. Here, at your Lordship's service.

Old Ath. This fellow here. Lord Timon, this thy creature By night frequents my houfe. I am a man

That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
And my eftate deferves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well: what further?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin elfe, * On whom I may confer what I have got: The maid is fair, o' th' youngeft for a bride,

F 3

And

And I have bred her at my dearest coft,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pray thee, noble Lord,
Join with me to forbid him her refort;
Myfelf have spoke in vain.

Tim. The man is honeft.

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon. (4)
His honefty rewards him in itself,
It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does the love him?

Old Ath. She is young, and apt:

Our own precedent paffions do inftru&t us,
What levity's in youth.

Tim. Love you the maid?

Luc. Ay, my good Lord, and fhe accepts of it. Old Ath. If in her marriage my confent be miffing,

I call the gods to witnefs, I will chufe

Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And difpoffefs her all.

Tim. How fhall fhe be endowed,

If the be mated with an equal husband ?

Old Ath. Three talents on the prefent, in future all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath ferv'd me long; To build his fortune I will strain a little,

For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
What you beftow, in him I'll counterpoife,
And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Most noble Lord,

Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Tim. My hand to thee, mine honour on my promise, Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may That flate, or fortune, fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you. [Exe. Luc. and old Athenian. Poet. Vouch fafe my labour, and long live your Lordship! Tim. I thank you, you fhall hear from me anon:

(4) Therefore be will be, Timon.] The thought is closely exprefs'd, and obfcure: but this feems the meaning. "If the man be honeft, "my Lord, for that reafon he will be fo in this; and not endeavour "at the injustice of gaining my daughter without my confent."

Mr. Warburton.

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