SCENE I. Athens. TIMON\'S house
Enter POET, PAINTER, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and MERCER,
at several doors
POET. Good day, sir. PAINTER. I am glad y\'are 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\'
th\' 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 th\' 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 will
say of it It tutors nature. Artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier
than life.