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I call the gods to witness, I will choose
How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. 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:
And make him weigh with her.
Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping
Which is not ow'd to you!
[Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
Go not away.-What have you there, my friend?
Painting is welcome.
Hath suffer'd under praise.
Tim. A mere satiety of commendations, If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd
It would unclew me quite.
What, my lord! dispraise?
My lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give. But you well know,
Things of light value, differing in the owners,
Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
Tim. Well mock'd.
Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him.
Tim. Look, who comes here: will you be chid?
Jew. We'll bear, with your lordship.
He'll spare none. Tim. Good-morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
Apem. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good-morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.
Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st Apem. Are they not Athenians? [them not.
Apem. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus?
Apem. Thou knowest I do; I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. Tim. Whither art going?
Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Apem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it?
Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.
Pain. You are a dog.
Apem. Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I
be a dog?
Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
Apem. No; I eat not lords.
Tim. An thou shouldst, thou'dst anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.
Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking.-How now, poet!
Apem. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one?
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feign'd him a worthy fellow.
Poet. That's not feign'd,-he is so.
Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart.
Tim. What, thyself?
Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord.--Art not thou a merchant?
Mer. Ay, Apemantus.
Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Servant.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Serv. "Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. —
[Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me:-go not you hence
Enter ALCIBIADES, with his company.
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves And all this court'sy! The strain of man's bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
Alcib. Sir, you have sav'd my longing, and I feed
[Exeunt all but APEMANTUS.
Enter two Lords.
1 Lord. What time o' day is't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest.
1 Lord. That time serves still.
Apem. The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. 2 Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast.
Apem. Ay; to see meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools. 2 Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well.
Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
2 Lord. Why, Apemantus?
Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.
1 Lord. Hang thyself.
Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.
2 Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence. Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.
1 Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
2 Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed but he repays
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern'd man.
2 Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? 1 Lord. I'll keep you company.
SCENE II.-ATHENS. Room of State in TIMON'S House.
It hath pleas'd the gods to remember my father's age,
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:
gave it freely ever; and there's none
Can truly say he gives if he receives:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON.
But where there is true friendship there needs none.
1 Lord. My lord, we always have confess'd it.
You shall not make me welcome.
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Tim. Fie, thou art a churl; you have got a humour there Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.
They say, my lords, ira furor brevis est;
But yond man is ever angry.
Go, let him have a table by himself;
For he does neither affect company
Nor is he fit for't, indeed.
Apem. Let me stay at thine apparel, Timon: I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.
Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou art an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; pr'ythee, let my meat make thee silent.
Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should ne'er flatter thee.-Ö you gods, what a number of men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! it grieves me to see So many dip their meat in one man's blood; And all the madness is, he cheers them up too. I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: Methinks they should invite them without knives; Good for their meat and safer for their lives.
There's much example for't; the fellow that sits next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him: 't has been prov'd. If I were a huge man I should fear to drink at meals,
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: