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It tutors nature : artificial strifes
Enter certain Senators, and pass over.
Pain. How shall I understand you?
I'll unbolt; to you,
grave and austere quality,) tender down Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune, Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd flate
To Apemantus, that few things loves better
5i, e. The contest of art with nature.
Open, explain. * One who shows by reflection the looks of his patron. VOL. VIII,
Than to abhor himself ; even he drops down
I saw them speak together.
'Tis conceiv'd to scope.
Nay, sir, but hear me on:
Ay, marry, what of these?
9 To advance their conditions of life. i Whisperings of
officious servility. 2 Inhale.
Pain. 'Tis common :
Trumpets sound. Enter Timon, attended; the Servant
of VENTIDIUS talking with him. Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you ? Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord : five talents is his
debt ; His means most short, his creditors most strait : Your honourable letter he desires To those have shut 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 must need me. I do know him A gentleman, that well deserves a help, Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him.
Ven. Ser. Your lordship ever binds him.
Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransome; And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me :: 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after.-Fare you
well. Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour! (Exit.
31, 6. Inferior spectators,
Enter an old Athenian.
Freely, good father,
Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.
my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Well; what further?
The man is honest,
Does she love him?
Old Ath. She is young, and apt :
Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid ?
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,
How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband ? Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future,
all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; To build his fortune, I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter : What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, 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 pro
mise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you!
[Exeunt LUCILIUS and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your
lordship! Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away.-What have you there, my friend?
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.