Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

Timon of Athens · chunk 13 of 35

Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-c.1608] (Annals)
tragedy · King's Men
T6 Money, debt and credit typicality 0.83 · 502 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.

I have told my Lord of you, he is coming down to you. I thank you Sir. here's my Lord. One of Lord Timon's men? A Gift I warrant. Why this hits right: I dreamt of a Silver Bason & Ewer to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are very respectively welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how does that Honourable, Complete, Freehearted Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good Lord and Master? His health is well sir. I am right glad that his health is well sir: and what hast thou there under thy Cloak, pretty Flaminius? Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in my Lord's behalf I come to entreat your Honour to supply: who having great and instant occasion to use fifty Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: nothing doubting your present assistance therein. La, lafoy, lafoy, la: Nothing doubting says he? Alas good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to supper to him of purpose, to have him spend less, and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning by my coming, every man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get him from't. Please your Lordship, here is the Wine. Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. here's to thee. Your Lordship speaks your pleasure. I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit, give thee thy due, and one that knows what belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if the time use thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sirrah. Draw nearer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a bountiful Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou knowst well enough (although thou comest to me) that this is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without security. Here's three Solidars for thee, good Boy wink at me, and say thou saw'st me not. Far thee well. Is't possible the world should so much differ, And we alive that lived? Fly damned baseness To him that worships thee. Ha'? Now I see thou art a Fool, and sit for thy Master. May these add to the number that may scald thee: Let molten Coin be thy damnation, Thou disease of a friend, and not himself: Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, It turns in less than two nights? O you Gods! I feel my Master's passion. This Slave unto his Honour, Has my Lord's meat in him: Why should it thrive, and turn to Nutriment, When he is turned to poison? O may Diseases only work upon't: And when he's sick to death, let not that part of Nature Which my Lord paid for, be of any power To expel sickness, but prolong his hour. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend and an Honourable Gentleman.
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlayTimon of Athens
AuthorShakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas
Publication year (edition)1623
First performance / composition (Annals)1607 [c.1606-c.1608]
First performance (BritDrama)1607 [1605-1608]
Company (BritDrama)King's Men
Genre (British Drama)tragedy
Play typeAdult Professional;Professional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 884 · TCP A11954 · DEEP 5081.29
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 768–798 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 13 of 35 in this edition
Length502 words · 671 tokens
Topic (seed 42)T6 — Money, debt and credit cross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.828 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seedsseed 43: T9 · seed 44: T10 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down to you. I thanke you Sir. Heere's my Lord. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant. Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Baſon & Ewre to night. Flaminius, honeſt Flaminius, you are verie reſpectiuely welcome ſir. Fill me ſome Wine. And how does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentleman of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and Mayſter? His health is well ſir. I am right glad that his health is well ſir: and what haſt thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius? Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in my Lords behal I come to intreat your Honor to ſupply: who hauing great and inſtant occaſion to vſe fiftie Talents, hath ſent to your Lordſhip to furniſh him: nothing doubting your preſent aſſiſtance therein. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting ſayes hee? Alas good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep ſo good a houſe. Many a time and often I ha din'd with him, and told him on't, and come againe to ſupper to him of purpoſe, to haue him ſpend leſſe, and yet he wold embrace no counſell, take no warning by my comming, euery man has his fault, and honeſty is his. I ha told him on't, but I could nere get him from't. Pleaſe your Lordſhip, heere is the Wine. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wiſe. Heere's to thee. Your Lordſhip ſpeakes your pleaſure. I haue obſerued thee alwayes for a towardlie prompt ſpirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes what belongs to reaſon; and canſt vſe the time wel, if the time vſe thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone ſirrah. Draw neerer honeſt Flaminius. Thy Lords a bountifull Gentleman, but thou art wiſe, and thou know'ſt well enough (although thou com'ſt to me) that this is no time to lend money, eſpecially vpon bare friendſhippe without ſecuritie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good Boy winke at me, and ſay thou ſaw'ſt mee not. Fare thee well. Is't poſſible the world ſhould ſo much differ, And we aliue that liued? Fly damned baſeneſſe To him that worſhips thee. Ha? Now I ſee thou art a Foole, and ſit for thy Maſter. May theſe adde to the number yt may ſcald thee: Let moulten Coine be thy damnation, Thou diſeaſe of a friend, and not himſelfe: Has friendſhip ſuch a faint and milkie heart, It turnes in leſſe then two nights? O you Gods! I feele my Maſters paſſion. This Slaue vnto his Honor, Has my Lords meate in him: Why ſhould it thriue, and turne to Nutriment, When he is turn'd to poyſon? O may Diſeaſes onely worke vpon't: And when he's ſicke to death, let not that part of Nature Which my Lord payd for, be of any power To expell ſickneſſe, but prolong his hower. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend and an Honourable Gentleman.