Tim. Whither art going? Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. 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 should'st, thou'dst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. Apem. So thou apprehend'st 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 tnink 'tis worth? Apem. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet? Poet. How now, philosopher? Apem. Thou liest. Poet. Art not one? Apem. Yes. 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 would'st do then, Apemantus? Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with my heart. Tim. What, thyself? Apem. Ay. Tim. Wherefore? Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant? 1 Lord. What time a day is't, Apemantus? Apem. Time to be honest. 1 Lord. That time serves still. Apem. The most accursed thou, that still omit'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 of the ass. [Exit. 1 Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes 2 Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, All use of quittance. 1 Lord. The noblest mind he carries, Hautboys playing loud musick. A great banquet My father's age, and call him to long peace. To your free heart. I do return those talents, O, by no means, Tim. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare Was but devis'd at first, to set a gloss [They sit. 1 Lord. My lord, we always have confess'd it. Apem. Ho, ho, confess'd it? hang'd it, have you not? Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame : - Go, let him have a table by himself; I come to observe; I give thee warning on't. Apem. Let me stay at thine own peril, Timon; 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. O you gods! what a number Of men eat Timon, and he sees them 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 : Is the readiest man to kill him: it has been prov'd. Were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: Great men should drink with harness on their throats. Tim. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. 2 Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord. Flow this way! Apem. A brave fellow ! - he keep his tides well. Timon, Those healths will make thee, and thy state, look ill. Here's that, which is too weak to be a sinner, Honest water, which ne'er left man i'the mire: This, and my food, are equals; there's no odds. Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. APEMANTUS'S GRACE. Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; I pray for no man, but myself: Grant I may never prove so fond. To trust man on his oath or bond, Or a harlot, for her weeping; Or a dog, that seems a sleeping; Or a keeper with my freedom; Or my friends, if I should need 'em. bid me to 'em. 1 Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect. Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you: How had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable title from thousands, did you not chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself, than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O, you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for them: and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere it can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks; to forget their faults, drink to you. Apem. Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. 2 Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And, at that instant, like a babe sprung up. Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. 3 Lord. I promise you my lord, you mov'd me 1 Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you are belov'd. Musick. Re-enter Cupid, with a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing, and playing. Apem. Hey day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! They dance! they are mad women. Like madness is the glory of this life, not Who lives, that's Depraved, or depraves? who dies, that bears I should fear, those, that dance before me now, The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, 1 Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best. Apem. 'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold taking, I doubt me. Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet Attends you: Please you to dispose yourselves. All Lad. Most thankfully, my lord. Tim. Flavius, Flav. My lord. Tim. [Exeunt Cupid, and Ladies. The little casket bring me hither. 1 Lord. Where be our men? O my friends, I have one word To say to you; Look you, my good lord, I must Newly alighted, and come to visit you. I beseech your honour, Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. Tim. Near; why then another time I'll hear thee: Flav. [Aside.] What will this come to? Happier is he that has no friend to feed, [Exit. You do yourselves Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. 2 Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive it. 3 Lord. O, he is the very soul of bounty! Tim. And now I remember me, my lord, you gave Good words the other day of a bay courser I rode on it is yours, because you lik'd it! 2 Lord. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. Tim. You may take my word, my lord; I know, [Exeunt ALCIBIADES, Lords, &c. Serving of becks, and jutting out of bums! no man ACT II. SCENE I.- The same. A Room in a Senator's House. Can found his state in safety. Caphis, I say! Caphis, ho! Enter CAPHIS. Here, sir; What is your pleasure? Enter a Senator, with papers in his hand. He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, Caph. Tim. wants, All Serv. Gramercies, good fool: How does your mistress? Fool. She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens as you are. 'Would we could see you at Corinth. Apem. Good! gramercy. Enter Page. Fool. Look you, here comes my mistress' page. Page. [To the Fool.] Why, how now, captain? what do you in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? Apem. 'Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer thee profitably. Page. Pr'ythee, Apemantus, read me the super scription of these letters; I know not which is which. Apem. Canst not read? Page. No. Apem. There will little learning die then, that day thou art hanged. This is to lord Timon; this to Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou'lt die a bawd. Page. Thou wast whelped a dog; and thou shalt Var. Serv. 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six famish, a dog's death. Answer not, I am gone. weeks, [Exit Page. Fool, I Apem. Even so thou out-run'st grace. Apem. If Timon stay at home. You three scr' e three usurers? All Serv. Ay; 'would they served us! |