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Iueullue, } Lords, and flatterers of Timnon.

Timon, a noble Athenian.
Lucins,

.
Sempronius,
Ventidius, one of Timon's false Friends.
Apemantus, a churlish Philosopher,
Alcibiades, an Atheniau General,
Flavius , Steward to Timon.
Flaminius,
Lucilius, Timon's Servants.
Servilins,
Caphis,
Philotus,
Titus; Servants to Timon's Creditors.
Lucius,
Hortensius,
Two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of

Isidore; two of Timon's Creditors.
Cupid and Maskers. Three Strangers.
Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant,
Ar old Athenian. A Page. A Fool.
Phrynia,
Timandra,

Mistresses to Alcibiades.

}

Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers,

Thieves, and Attendants.

SCENE, Athens; and the Woods adjoining.

TIM ON OF

OF A THENS.

ACT I. SCE N E I.

Athens. A Hall in Timon's House,

Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and

Others, at several doors,
Poet. Good day, Sir.
Puin. I am glad you are well,
Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes

world? Pain. It wears, Sir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known :
Put what particular rarity ? what strange,
Which inanifold record not matches? See,
Magick of bounty! alļ these spirits thy power,
Hath conjur'd to attend. I know the merchant,
Lain. I know them both; t'other's a jeweller.
Mer. 0, "lis a worthy lord !
Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.

Mer. A most incomparable man; breath'd,
To an unlirable and contiunate goodness :
He passes.

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Jew. I have a jewel here.
Mer. 0, pray, let's see't: For the lord Ti-

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
Which aptly sings the good.
Mer. "Tis a good form.

Looking on the jewel. Jew. And rich: here is a water, look you. Pain. You are rapt, Sir, in some work, some

dedication To the great lord.

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis Dourished: The fire i'the flint Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame I'rovnkes ilsclf, and, like the current, flies 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, Sir. Let's see your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.
Poet. So 'lis : 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 dumhness of the gesture One might interpret.

Po It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch ; Is’t good ?

Poet. I'll say of it,

2

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