Book Description

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 mindsÑ As well of glib and slipp'ry creatures as Of grave and austere qualityÑtender 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.