Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Of 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-faced
flatterer

To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down 60
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain:

I saw them speak together. Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the

mount

Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labor on the bosom of this sphere
To propagate their states: amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to
her;

70

Whose present grace to present slaves and serv

ants

Translates his rivals.

Pain.

'Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,

58. "glass-faced"; one who shows by reflection the looks of nis patron. The Poet was mistaken in the character of Apemantus; but seeing that he paid frequent visits to Timon, he naturally concluded that he was equally courteous with his other guests.-H. N. H. 67. "propagate their states"; that is, to improve or advance their conditions.-H. N. H.

With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
In our condition.

Poet.

Nay, sir, but hear me on.
All those which were his fellows but of late,
Some better than his value, on the moment 79
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,

Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
Drink the free air.

Pain.

Aye, marry, what of these? Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of

mood

Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
Which labor'd after him to the mountain's top
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip
down,

Not one accompanying his declining foot.
Pain. 'Tis common:

90

A thousand moral paintings I can show,
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of
Fortune's

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.

82-83. "through him drink the free air"; to "drink the air," like the haustos ætherios of Virgil, is merely a poetic phrase for draw the air, or breathe. To "drink the free air," therefore, through another, is to breathe freely at his will only, to depend on him for the privilege of life.-H. N. H.

87. “slip”; Ff, “sit”; Delius conj. “sink.”—I. G.

Trumpets sound. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from Ventidius talking with him; Lucilius and other servants following.

Tim.

Imprison'd is he, say you? Mess. Aye, my good lord: five talents is his debt; His means most short, his creditors most strait: Your honorable letter he desires

To those have shut him up; which failing,
Periods his comfort.

Tim.

Noble Ventidius! Well,

I am not of that feather to shake off

100

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.

Mess. Your lordship ever binds him.

Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me: "Tis not enough to help the feeble up,

But to support him after. Fare you well. Mess. All happiness to your honor!

Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim.

[Exit.

Freely, good father. 110

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

Tim. I have so: what of him?

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before

thee.

Tim. Attends he here, or no?

Lucilius!

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.

Old Ath. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,

By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclined to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more raised
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.

Well, what further? 120
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:

The man is honest.

130

His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter. Tim.

Old Ath. She is young and apt:

Does she love him?

Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [To Lucilius]

Love you the maid? Luc. Aye, my good lord; and she accepts of it.

128. The line is supposed by some to be corrupt, and many emendations have been proposed, but Coleridge's interpretation commends itself:-"The meaning of the first line the poet himself explains, or rather unfolds, in the second. "The man is honest!'-True; and for that very cause, and with no additional or extrinsic motive, he will be so. No man can be justly called honest, who is not so for honesty's sake, itself including its reward."-I. G.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,

I call the gods to witness, I will choose

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

Tim.

140

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 served 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 honor, she is his.
Tim. My hand to thee; mine honor on my promise.
Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may

That state or fortune fall into my keeping, 150
Which is not owed to you!

[Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labor, and long live your lord

ship!

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.

Tim.

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonor traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: these pencil'd figures are 159
Even such as they give out. I like your work,
And you shall find I like it: wait attendance

« ZurückWeiter »