Good day, sir.
I am glad you're well.
I have not seen you long: how goes the world?
It wears, sir, as it grows.
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.
I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.
O, 'tis a worthy lord.
Nay, that's most fix'd.
A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,
To an untirable and continuate goodness:
He passes.
I have a jewel here--
O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?
If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--
'When we for recompense have
praised the vile,
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.'
'Tis a good form.
And rich: here is a water, look ye.
You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
To the great lord.
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?
A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
Let's see your piece.
'Tis a good piece.
So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.
Indifferent.
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.
It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch; is't good?
I will say of it,
It tutors nature: artificial strife
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
How this lord is follow'd!
The senators of Athens: happy man!
Look, more!
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.
How shall I understand you?
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,