Timon of Athens · Act 1, Scene 1

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Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at different doors
Poet

Good day, sir.

Poet

Hello, sir.

Painter

I am glad you’re well.

Painter

I’m glad you’re doing well.

Poet

I have not seen you long: how goes the world?

Poet

I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s everything?

Painter

It wears, sir, as it grows.

Painter

It’s going on, sir, as usual.

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 conjured to attend. I know the merchant.

Poet

Yes, that’s no surprise: But what’s the latest news? Anything unusual, Something not already written about? Look, The magic of generosity! All these people your influence Has called to attend. I recognize the merchant.

Painter

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

Painter

I know them both; the other one’s a jeweller.

Merchant

O, ’tis a worthy lord.

Merchant

Oh, he’s a great man.

Jeweller

Nay, that’s most fix’d.

Jeweller

No, that’s absolutely true.

Merchant

A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. Jeweller: I have a jewel here--

Merchant

He’s an extraordinary man, as if he’s been created To be endlessly good: He’s unmatched. Jeweller: I have a piece of jewellery here--

O, pray, let’s see’t: for the Lord Timon, sir? Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--

Oh, please, let me see it: is it for Lord Timon, sir? Jeweller: If he agrees to the price, but beyond that--

Poet

[Reciting to himself] ’When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.’

Poet

[Reciting to himself] ’When we praise the worthless in exchange for a reward, It ruins the honor in that happy poem Which rightly praises the good.’

Merchant

’Tis a good form.

Merchant

That’s a good idea.

Looking at the jewel
Looking at the jewel
Jeweller

And rich: here is a water, look ye.

Jeweller

And valuable: here’s a gem, take a look.

Painter

You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord.

Painter

You’re lost in thought, sir, focused on some task, 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?

Poet

Something slipped away from me. Our poetry is like sap, which oozes From where it’s nourished: the spark in the flint Doesn’t show until it’s struck; our gentle fire Grows on its own and like a river flows, Each boundary it touches, it pushes against. What’s this you have?

Painter

A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

Painter

A painting, sir. When is your book coming out?

Poet

Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let’s see your piece.

Poet

Right after my current work, sir. Let’s see your painting.

Painter

’Tis a good piece.

Painter

It’s a good painting.

Poet

So ’tis: this comes off well and excellent.

Poet

It is: this looks great, really excellent.

Painter

Indifferent.

Painter

It’s okay.

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.

Poet

Wonderful: how this grace Shows its own worth! what a mental power This eye projects! how much imagination Moves in this lip! one could interpret The silent gestures here.

Painter

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

Painter

It’s a nice imitation of life. Here’s a detail; is it good?

Poet

I will say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Poet

I’ll say this about it, It teaches nature: the fake struggle Lives in these details, more lively than life itself.

Enter certain Senators, and pass over
Enter certain Senators, and pass over
Painter

How this lord is follow’d!

Painter

Look at how this lord is followed!

Poet

The senators of Athens: happy man!

Poet

The senators of Athens: happy man!

Painter

Look, more!

Painter

Look, more!

Poet

You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shaped 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.

Poet

You see this meeting, this huge crowd of visitors. I have, in this rough work, created a man, Whom the world below embraces and celebrates With the best hospitality: my free flow Doesn’t stop for details, but moves forward In a vast sea of possibility: no hidden hatred Spoils even a tiny part of my path; But soars like an eagle, bold and moving forward, Leaving no trace behind.

Painter

How shall I understand you?

Painter

How should I understand you?

Poet

I will unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, As well of glib and slippery 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-faced 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.

Poet

Let me explain it to you. You see how all kinds of people, all kinds of minds, Whether smooth and slippery, or Serious and strict, eagerly offer Their services to Lord Timon: his great fortune Rests on his kind and generous nature, And this wins over all sorts of hearts; even The sycophant with his fake smile, And Apemantus, who dislikes almost everything Except despising himself: even he bows down And returns in peace, Rich from Timon’s favor.

Painter

I saw them speak together.

Painter

I saw them talk 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 labour 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; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals.

Poet

Sir, I have imagined Fortune sitting on a high and pleasant hill: The bottom of the hill is full of people, all kinds of natures, Who work to improve their status on this earth. Among them all, whose eyes are fixed on this queenly figure, One person I represent, a man like Lord Timon, Whom Fortune, with her ivory hand, calls to her; Whose current favor raises slaves and servants To his level.

Painter

’Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon’d from the rest below, Bowing his head against the sleepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well express’d In our condition.

Painter

It seems clear now. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, I think, Are well represented with one man called from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steep hill To reach his happiness; it’s a good way to express Our situation.

Poet

Nay, sir, but hear me on. All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment 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.

Poet

No, sir, but listen. All those who were his equals just a moment ago, Some even better than he, now follow him, His halls are filled with attendants, They whisper reverently in his ear, Make even his stirrup seem sacred, and through him Breathe the fresh air.

Painter

Ay, marry, what of these?

Painter

Yes, indeed, what of these?

Poet

When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants Which labour’d after him to the mountain’s top Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Poet

When Fortune, in her changeable moods, Turns away from her once-beloved, all those who followed him To the top of the hill Fall down, crawling on their knees and hands, while he slips down, With no one following his descending steps.

Painter

’Tis common: 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.

Painter

It’s common: I could show you a thousand moral lessons That demonstrate these sudden shifts of Fortune More effectively than words. Still, you do well To show Lord Timon that even the lowliest eyes have seen The one above, now brought low.

Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following
Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following
Timon

Imprison’d is he, say you?

Timon

Is he imprisoned, you say?

Messenger

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, Periods his comfort.

Messenger

Yes, my lord: he owes five talents, His finances are stretched thin, his creditors are strict: He asks your honorable letter be sent to those who have him locked up; if that fails, It will end his hope.

Timon

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.

Timon

Noble Ventidius! Well; I’m not the type to abandon A friend when he needs me. I know him To be a gentleman who truly deserves help: And I will help him: I’ll pay the debt, and free him.

Messenger

Your lordship ever binds him.

Messenger

Your lordship always makes him feel obligated.

Timon

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.

Timon

Tell him I send my regards: I’ll pay his ransom; And once he’s free, tell him to come to me. It’s not enough to help the weak rise, But to continue supporting them afterward. Goodbye.

Messenger

All happiness to your honour!

Messenger

Wishing you all the best, my lord!

Exit
Exit
Enter an old Athenian
Enter an old Athenian
Old Athenian

Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Old Athenian

Lord Timon, please listen to me.

Timon

Freely, good father.

Timon

Speak freely, good sir.

Old Athenian

Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

Old Athenian

You have a servant named Lucilius.

Timon

I have so: what of him?

Timon

Yes, I do. What about him?

Old Athenian

Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Old Athenian

Most noble Timon, call him here before you.

Timon

Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

Timon

Is he here, or not? Lucilius!

Lucilius

Here, at your lordship’s service.

Lucilius

I’m here, at your service, my lord.

Old Athenian

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.

Old Athenian

This man, Lord Timon, your servant, visits my house at night. I’m a man Who has always been careful with money; And my estate deserves an heir of higher status Than one who just carries a plate.

Timon

Well; what further?

Timon

I see. What else?

Old Athenian

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.

Old Athenian

I have one daughter, no other relatives, To whom I can leave my wealth. The girl is young and beautiful, perfect for a bride, And I’ve raised her at great cost To be of the highest character. This man of yours Seeks to win her love: I beg you, noble lord, Help me stop him from seeing her; I’ve already spoken to him, but in vain.

Timon

The man is honest.

Timon

The man is honorable.

Old Athenian

Therefore he will be, Timon: His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter.

Old Athenian

So, Timon, he will be: His honesty is its own reward; It shouldn’t involve my daughter.

Timon

Does she love him?

Timon

Does she love him?

Old Athenian

She is young and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity’s in youth.

Old Athenian

She’s young and eager: Our past feelings teach us How impulsive youth can be.

Timon

[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid?

Timon

[To LUCILIUS] Do you love the girl?

Lucilius

Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

Lucilius

Yes, my lord, and she accepts it.

Old Athenian

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.

Old Athenian

If I’m not asked for my approval in her marriage, I swear to the gods, I’ll choose My heir from the beggars of the world, And take everything from her.

Timon

How shall she be endow’d, if she be mated with an equal husband?

Timon

How will she be provided for, if she marries someone of equal status?

Old Athenian

Three talents on the present; in future, all.

Old Athenian

Three talents now; everything in the future.

Timon

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.

Timon

This man has served me well: To help him build his fortune, I’ll make a small effort, For it’s a duty men owe to each other. Give him your daughter: Whatever you give him, I’ll match, And make it equal to her.

Old Athenian

Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

Old Athenian

Most noble lord, I trust you with my honor, she’s his.

Timon

My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

Timon

My word to you; my honor on my promise.

Lucilius

Humbly I thank your lordship: never may The state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you!

Lucilius

Humbly, I thank you, my lord: may The state or fortune never fall into my hands, Unless it’s owed to you!

Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian
Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian
Poet

Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

Poet

Please accept my work, and long live your lordship!

Timon

I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Timon

Thank you; you’ll hear from me soon: Don’t leave yet. What do you have there, my friend?

Painter

A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.

Painter

A painting, which I ask Your lordship to accept.

Timon

Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; or since dishonour traffics with man’s nature, He is but outside: these pencill’d figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work; And you shall find I like it: wait attendance Till you hear further from me.

Timon

Painting is appreciated. The painting is almost like a real person; or since dishonesty is a part of human nature, He is only skin-deep: these painted images are Exactly what they appear to be. I like your work; And you’ll see that I like it: wait here Until you hear more from me.

Painter

The gods preserve ye!

Painter

The gods protect you!

Timon

Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Hath suffer’d under praise.

Timon

Farewell, my friend: give me your hand; We must definitely dine together. Sir, your jewel Has suffered from too much praise.

Jeweller

What, my lord! dispraise?

Jeweller

What, my lord! criticism?

Timon

A more satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extoll’d, It would unclew me quite.

Timon

Too much praise, until it’s boring. If I were to pay you for it as much as people praise it, It would totally bankrupt me.

Jeweller

My lord, ’tis rated As those which sell would give: but you well know, Things of like value differing in the owners Are prized by their masters: believe’t, dear lord, You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

Jeweller

My lord, it’s priced The same way things are priced by those who sell them: but you know, Things of equal value are priced differently depending on who owns them. Believe me, my lord, You improve the jewel just by wearing it.

Timon

Well mock’d.

Timon

Well said.

Merchant

No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him.

Merchant

No, my good lord; he speaks plainly, Like everyone else does with him.

Timon

Look, who comes here: will you be chid?

Timon

Look, here comes someone: do you want to be scolded?

Enter APEMANTUS
Enter APEMANTUS
Timon

Jeweller: We’ll bear, with your lordship.

Timon

Jeweller: We’ll bear with you, my lord.

Merchant

He’ll spare none.

Merchant

He won’t spare anyone.

Timon

Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

Timon

Good morning, kind Apemantus!

Apemantus

Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.

Apemantus

I’ll only be kind when you’re gone; wait for your good morning, When you’re Timon’s dog, and these fools are honest.

Timon

Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know’st them not.

Timon

Why do you call them fools? You don’t even know them.

Apemantus

Are they not Athenians?

Apemantus

Aren’t they Athenians?

Timon

Yes.

Timon

Yes.

Apemantus

Then I repent not. Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Then I don’t regret it. Jeweller: Do you recognize me, Apemantus?

Thou know’st I do: I call’d thee by thy name.

You know I do: I called you by your name.

Timon

Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Timon

You’re arrogant, Apemantus.

Apemantus

Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

Apemantus

I’m only proud of one thing: that I’m not like Timon.

Timon

Whither art going?

Timon

Where are you going?

Apemantus

To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.

Apemantus

To smash an honest Athenian’s skull.

Timon

That’s a deed thou’lt die for.

Timon

That’s something you’ll die for.

Apemantus

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

Apemantus

Right, if doing nothing is punishable by death.

Timon

How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

Timon

What do you think of this painting, Apemantus?

Apemantus

The best, for the innocence.

Apemantus

It’s the best, because of its innocence.

Timon

Wrought he not well that painted it?

Timon

Didn’t the artist do a good job?

Apemantus

He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he’s but a filthy piece of work.

Apemantus

He did better who made the artist; but still, he’s just a disgusting piece of work.

Painter

You’re a dog.

Painter

You’re a dog.

Apemantus

Thy mother’s of my generation: what’s she, if I be a dog?

Apemantus

Your mother’s from my time: what does that make her, if I’m a dog?

Timon

Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Timon

Will you dine with me, Apemantus?

Apemantus

No; I eat not lords.

Apemantus

No; I don’t eat rich people.

Timon

An thou shouldst, thou ’ldst anger ladies.

Timon

If you did, you’d make women angry.

Apemantus

O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

Apemantus

Oh, they eat rich people; that’s how they get fat.

Timon

That’s a lascivious apprehension.

Timon

That’s a dirty way of looking at it.

Apemantus

So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

Apemantus

That’s how you see it: take it however you want.

Timon

How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Timon

What do you think of this jewel, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.

Apemantus

Not as much as honesty, which doesn’t cost a man anything.

Timon

What dost thou think ’tis worth?

Timon

What do you think it’s worth?

Apemantus

Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

Apemantus

It’s not worth my time to think about it. What’s up, poet?

Poet

How now, philosopher!

Poet

What’s up, philosopher?

Apemantus

Thou liest.

Apemantus

You’re lying.

Poet

Art not one?

Poet

Aren’t you one?

Apemantus

Yes.

Apemantus

Yes.

Poet

Then I lie not.

Poet

Then I’m not lying.

Apemantus

Art not a poet?

Apemantus

Aren’t you a poet?

Poet

Yes.

Poet

Yes.

Apemantus

Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

Apemantus

Then you’re lying: look at your last work, where you made him out to be a good man.

Poet

That’s not feigned; he is so.

Poet

That’s not made up; he really is.

Apemantus

Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o’ the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Apemantus

Yes, he’s good enough for you, and to pay you for your work: the person who likes being praised deserves the praise. I wish I were a lord!

Timon

What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

Timon

What would you do then, Apemantus?

Apemantus

E’en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.

Apemantus

Just like I do now; hate a lord with all my heart.

Timon

What, thyself?

Timon

What, hate yourself?

Apemantus

Ay.

Apemantus

Yes.

Timon

Wherefore?

Timon

Why?

Apemantus

That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant?

Apemantus

Because I don’t have enough anger to be a lord. Aren’t you a merchant?

Merchant

Ay, Apemantus.

Merchant

Yes, Apemantus.

Apemantus

Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

Apemantus

May traffic ruin you, if the gods won’t!

Merchant

If traffic do it, the gods do it.

Merchant

If trade ruins me, it’s because the gods let it.

Apemantus

Traffic’s thy god; and thy god confound thee!

Apemantus

Trade is your god; and may your god ruin you!

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
Timon

What trumpet’s that?

Timon

What’s that trumpet for?

Messenger

’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, All of companionship.

Messenger

It’s Alcibiades, with about twenty horse, All riding together.

Timon

Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.

Timon

Please, entertain them; show them the way to us.

Exeunt some Attendants
Exeunt some Attendants
Timon

You must needs dine with me: go not you hence Till I have thank’d you: when dinner’s done, Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

Timon

You have to eat with me: don’t leave yet Until I’ve thanked you: after dinner, Show me this piece. I’m happy to see you.

Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest
Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest
Timon

Most welcome, sir!

Timon

You’re most welcome, sir!

Apemantus

So, so, there! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves, And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out Into baboon and monkey.

Apemantus

Oh, so, so, that’s it! Let your aches tighten and starve your flexible limbs! That there should be little love between these sweet fools, And all this politeness! Human nature has become Like baboons and monkeys.

Alcibiades

Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight.

Alcibiades

Sir, you’ve satisfied my longing, and I feast Most eagerly on seeing you.

Timon

Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

Timon

You’re very welcome, sir! Before we leave, we’ll enjoy a generous time In different pleasures. Please, let’s go inside.

Exeunt all except APEMANTUS
Exeunt all except APEMANTUS
Enter two Lords
Enter two Lords
First Lord

What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?

First Lord

What time of day is it, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Time to be honest.

Apemantus

Time to be honest.

First Lord

That time serves still.

First Lord

That time is always right.

Apemantus

The more accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.

Apemantus

The more cursed you are, for never doing it.

Second Lord

Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?

Second Lord

Are you going to Lord Timon’s feast?

Apemantus

Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

Apemantus

Yes, to watch food fill the fools and wine make the idiots drunk.

Second Lord

Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Second Lord

Goodbye, goodbye.

Apemantus

Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Apemantus

You’re a fool to say goodbye to me twice.

Second Lord

Why, Apemantus?

Second Lord

Why, Apemantus?

Apemantus

Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

Apemantus

You should have kept one for yourself, because I don’t plan to give you any.

First Lord

Hang thyself!

First Lord

Go hang yourself!

Apemantus

No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.

Apemantus

No, I won’t do anything you tell me: ask your friend for help.

Second Lord

Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence!

Second Lord

Go away, you troublesome dog, or I’ll kick you out of here!

Apemantus

I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’ the ass.

Apemantus

I’ll run off, like a dog chasing the donkey’s heels.

Exit
Exit
First Lord

He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? he outgoes The very heart of kindness.

First Lord

He’s the complete opposite of human decency. Come on, should we go in, And enjoy Lord Timon’s generosity? He surpasses even the very heart of kindness.

Second Lord

He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.

Second Lord

He gives it freely; Plutus, the god of wealth, Is just his servant: there’s no reward he gives, But returns it seven times over; no gift to him, But brings the giver a reward that exceeds all normal repayment.

First Lord

The noblest mind he carries That ever govern’d man.

First Lord

He has the noblest mind That ever governed a man.

Second Lord

Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

Second Lord

May he live long in wealth! Should we go in?

First Lord

I’ll keep you company.

First Lord

I’ll go with you.

Exuent
Exeunt

End of Act 1, Scene 1

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