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Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
Pain. 'Tis common :
Trumpets sound. Enter LORD TIMON, address
ing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him ;
LUCILIUS and other servants following. Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you ?
Noble Ventidius! Well;
him A gentleman that well deserves a help: Which he shall have : I'll pay the debt, and free
him. Mess. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom ;
99. Periods, cuts short.
And being enfranchised, bid him come to me:
Mess. All happiness to your honour ! [Exit.
Enter an old Athenian. Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim.
Freely, good father, iro Old Ath. Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. Tim. I have so: what of him? Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man
Well; what further ? Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin
The man is honest.
129. Therefore he will be, -he is honest for the sake of Timon. The line has been being honest, not in hope of suspected; but Coleridge's ex- some other reward, as e.g. in planation is probably correct, this case to win a wife.
His honesty rewards him in itself;
Does she love him ?
Tim. [To Lucilius] Love you the maid ?
How shall she be endow'd,
Most noble lord,
promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed 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
Painting is welcome.
hear further from me. Pain.
The gods preserve ye! Tim. Well fare you, gentleman : give me your
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
What, my lord ! dispraise ?
My lord, 'tis rated
Tim. Well mock'd.
Tim. Look, who comes here: will you be chid ?
Enter APEMANTUS. Jew. We'll bear, with your lordship. Mer.
He'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus ! Apem. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; 168. unclew, unwind, i.e. strip bare.
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves
honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou
know'st them not.
Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call’d thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
Tim. Whither art going?
Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou 'lt die for.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apeman
tus ? Apem. The best, for the innocence. Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it ?
Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.
Pain. You're a dog.
Apem. Thy mother's of my generation : what's she, if I be a dog ?
Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?
Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.