Уильям Шекспир - The Life of Timon of Athens

Imprison'd is he, say you?

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.

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.

Your lordship ever binds him.

Commend me to him; I will send his ransom;
And being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me.
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after. Fare you well.

All happiness to your honour.

Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Freely, good father.

Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.

I have so: what of him?

Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Attends he here or no? Lucilius!

Here, at your lordship's service.

This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd
Than one which holds a trencher.

Well; what further?

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.

The man is honest.

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

Does she love him?

She is young and apt:
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
What levity's in youth.
TIMON. [To Lucilius.]
Love you the maid?

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

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.

How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?

Three talents on the present; in future, all.

This gentleman of mine hath serv'd 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.

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

My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

Humbly I thank your lordship. Never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping
Which is not owed to you!

Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

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

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

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For 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.

The gods preserve you!

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

What, my lord! dispraise?

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

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.

Well mock'd.

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

Look who comes here. Will you be chid?

We'll bear, with your lordship.

He'll spare none.

Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

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

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

Are they not Athenians?

Yes.

Then I repent not.

You know me, Apemantus?

Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name.

Thou art proud, Apemantus.

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

Whither art going?