Till you hear further from me.
Painter The gods preserve ye!
TIMON Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;
We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer’d under praise.
Jeweller What, my lord! dispraise?
TIMON A more satiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extoll’d,
It would unclew me quite.
Jeweller My lord, ’tis rated
As those which sell would give: but you well know,
Things of like value differing in the owners
Are prized by their masters: believe’t, dear lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
TIMON Well mock’d.
Merchant No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.
TIMON Look, who comes here: will you be chid?
Enter APEMANTUS
Merchant He’ll spare none.
TIMON Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
APEMANTUS Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
TIMON Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know’st them not.
APEMANTUS Are they not Athenians?
TIMON Yes.
APEMANTUS Then I repent not.
APEMANTUS Thou know’st I do: I call’d thee by thy name.
TIMON Thou art proud, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
TIMON Whither art going?
APEMANTUS To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.
TIMON That’s a deed thou’lt die for.
APEMANTUS Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
TIMON How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS The best, for the innocence.
TIMON Wrought he not well that painted it?
APEMANTUS He wrought better that made the painter; and yet
he’s but a filthy piece of work.
Painter You’re a dog.
APEMANTUS Thy mother’s of my generation: what’s she, if I be a dog?
TIMON Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS No; I eat not lords.
TIMON An thou shouldst, thou ‘ldst anger ladies.
APEMANTUS O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
TIMON That’s a lascivious apprehension.
APEMANTUS So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.
TIMON How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a
man a doit.
TIMON What dost thou think ’tis worth?
APEMANTUS Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!
Poet How now, philosopher!
APEMANTUS Thou liest.
Poet Art not one?
APEMANTUS Yes.
Poet Then I lie not.
APEMANTUS Art not a poet?
Poet Yes.
APEMANTUS Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou
hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
Poet That’s not feigned; he is so.
APEMANTUS 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!
TIMON What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS E’en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.
TIMON What, thyself?
APEMANTUS Ay.
TIMON Wherefore?
APEMANTUS That I had no angry wit to be a lord.
Art not thou a merchant?
Merchant Ay, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
Merchant If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS Traffic’s thy god; and thy god confound thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger
TIMON What trumpet’s that?
Messenger ‘Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
TIMON Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.
Exeunt some Attendants
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I have thank’d you: when dinner’s done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest
Most welcome, sir!
APEMANTUS So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love ‘mongst these
sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
ALCIBIADES Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.
TIMON Right welcome, sir!
Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
Exeunt all except APEMANTUS
Enter two Lords
First Lord What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS Time to be honest.
First Lord That time serves still.
APEMANTUS The more accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.
Second Lord Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?
APEMANTUS Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.
Second Lord Fare thee well, fare thee well.
APEMANTUS Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
Second Lord Why, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to
give thee none.
First Lord Hang thyself!
APEMANTUS No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy
requests to thy friend.
Second Lord Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence!
APEMANTUS I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’ the ass.
Exit
First Lord He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
Second 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
All use of quittance.
First Lord The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern’d man.
Second Lord Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
First Lord I’ll keep you company.
Exeunt
Scene 2
A banqueting-room in Timon’s house.
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself
VENTIDIUS Most honour’d Timon,
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father’s age,
And call him to long peace.
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,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.
TIMON O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:
I 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
To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.
VENTIDIUS A noble spirit!
TIMON Nay, my lords,
They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON
Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me.
They sit
First Lord My lord, we always have confess’d it.
APEMANTUS Ho, ho, confess’d it! hang’d it, have you not?
TIMON O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
APEMANTUS No;
You shall not make me welcome:
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
TIMON Fie, thou’rt a churl; ye’ve 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.
APEMANTUS Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to
observe; I give thee warning on’t.
TIMON I take no heed of thee; thou’rt an Athenian,
therefore welcome: I myself would have no power;
prithee, let my meat make thee silent.
APEMANTUS 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 ’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 proved. If I 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.
TIMON My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
Second Lord Let it flow this way, my good lord.
APEMANTUS Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides
well. Those healths will make thee and thy state
look ill, Timon. 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’ 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.