The Life of Timon of Athens. Уильям Шекспир

The Life of Timon of Athens - Уильям Шекспир


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>The Life of Timon of Athens

      THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS

by William Shakespeare

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE

      TIMON, a noble Athenian

      LUCIUS

      LUCULLUS flattering Lords.

      SEMPRONIUS

      VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false Friends.

      APEMANTUS, a churlish Philosopher.

      ALCIBIADES, an Athenian Captain.

      FLAVIUS, Steward to Timon.

      FLAMINIUS

      LUCILIUS Servants to Timon.

      SERVILIUS

      CAPHIS

      PHILOTUS Servants to Timon's Creditors.

      TITUS

      HORTENSIUS

      Servants of Ventidius, and of Varro and Isidore (two of Timon's Creditor's).

      THREE STRANGERS.

      AN OLD ATHENIAN.

      A PAGE.

      A FOOL.

      Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant.

      PHRYNIA Mistresses to Alcibiades.

      TIMANDRA

      Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Servants, Thieves, and Attendants

      CUPID and Amazons in the Masque.

Scene. – Athens, and the neighbouring Woods

      Act I. Scene I. – Athens. A Hall in TIMON'S House

      [Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and Others, at several doors.]

POET

      Good day, sir.

PAINTER

      I am glad you're well.

POET

      I have not seen you long. How goes the world?

PAINTER

      It wears, sir, as it grows.

POET

      Ay, that's well known;

      But what particular rarity? what strange,

      Which manifold record not matches? See,

      Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power

      Hath conjur'd to attend! I know the merchant.

PAINTER

      I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

MERCHANT

      O, 'tis a worthy lord!

JEWELLER

      Nay, that's most fix'd.

MERCHANT

      A most incomparable man; breath'd, as it were,

      To an untirable and continuate goodness.

      He passes.

JEWELLER

      I have a jewel here —

MERCHANT

      O, pray let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?

JEWELLER

      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.

MERCHANT

      [Looking at the jewel.]

      'Tis a good form.

JEWELLER

      And rich: here is a water, look ye.

PAINTER

      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 nourish'd: the fire i' the flint

      Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame

      Provokes itself, and like the current flies

      Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

PAINTER

      A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

POET

      Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.

      Let's see your piece.

PAINTER

      'Tis a good piece.

POET

      So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

PAINTER

      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 dumbness of the gesture

      One might interpret.

PAINTER

      It is a pretty mocking of the life.

      Here is a touch; is't good?

POET

      I'll say of it,

      It tutors nature: artificial strife

      Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

      [Enter certain SENATORS, who pass over the stage.]

PAINTER

      How this lord is followed!

POET

      The senators of Athens: happy man!

PAINTER

      Look, more!

POET

      You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors.

      I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a man

      Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug

      With amplest entertainment: my free drift

      Halts not particularly, but moves itself

      In a wide sea 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.

PAINTER

      How shall I understand you?

POET

      I will unbolt to you.

      You see how all conditions, how all minds —

      As well of glib and slipp'ry creatures as

      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-fac'd flatterer

      To Apemantus, that few things loves better

      Than to abhor himself: even he drops down

      The knee before him, and returns in peace

      Most rich in Timon's nod.

PAINTER

      I saw them speak together.

POET

      Sir,


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