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Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
Pain. A piece of painting, which I do befeech.
Your Lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.

The painting is almost the natural man:
For fince difhonour trafficks with man's nature,
He is but out-fide: pencil'd figures are

Ev'n fuch as they give out. I like your work ;
And you fhall find, I like it: wait attendance
'Till you hear further from me.

Pain. The gods preferve ye!

Tim. Well fare you, gentleman; give me your hand, We must needs dine together: Sir, your jewel Hath fuffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my Lord? difpraife?

Tim. A mere fatiety of commendations.
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated

As thofe, which fell, would give: but you well know,
Things of like value, differing in the owners,

Are by their mafters priz'd; believe't, dear Lord,
You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

Tim. Well mock'd.

Mer. No, my good Lord, he fpeaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him.

Tim. Look, who comes here.

Will you be chid?

Enter Apemantus.

Jew. We'll bear it with your Lordship.

Mer. He'll fpare none.

Tim. Good-morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! Apem. "Till I be gentle, ftay for thy good-morrow; When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honeft. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves, thou know'st Apem. Are they not Athenians?

Tim. Yes.

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[them not?

Apem.

Apem. Thou know'ft I do, I call'd thee by thy name. Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.

Apem. Of nothing fo much, as that I am not like Timon.
Tim. Whither art going?

Apem. To knock out an honeft Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Tim. How lik't thou this picture, Apemantus?
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. Y'are a dog.

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation: what's fhe, if I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?

Apem. No, I eat not Lords.

Tim. If thou should'st, thou’dft anger Ladies.
Apem. O, they eat Lords; fo they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lafcivious apprehenfion.

Apem. So, thou apprehend'ftit. Take it for thy labour.
Tim. How doft thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
Apem. Not fo well as plain-dealing, which will not

coft a man a doit.

Tim. What doft thou think 'tis worth?

Apem. Not worth my thinking-How now, poet? Poet. How now, philofopher?

Apem. Thou lieft.

Poet. Art thou not one?

Apem. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not.

Apem. Art not a poet?

Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou lieft: look in thy laft work, where thou haft feign'd him a worthy fellow.

Poet. That's not feign'd, he is fo.

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He, that loves to be flattered, is worthy o' th' flatterer. Heav'ns, that I were a Lord! Tim, What would'ft do then, Apemantus?

Apem.

Apem. Ev'n as Apemantus, does now, hate a Lord with my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?
Apem. Ay.

Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had fo hungry a wit, to be a Lord.-(5) Art thou not a merchant?

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.

Apem. Traffick confound thee, if the gods will not! Mer. If traffick do it, the gods do it.

Afem. Traffick's thy god, and thy god confound thee!: Trumpets found. Enter a Messenger.

Tim. What trumpet's that?

Mef. 'Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horfe All of companionship.

Tim. Pray, entertain them, give them guide to us You must needs dine with me: go not you hence, 'Till I have thankt you; and when dinner's done, Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your fights.

Enter Alcibiades with the reft.

Moft welcome, Sir!

[Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, fo! aches contract, and ftarve your fupple joints! that there fhould be fmall love amongst these fweet knaves, and all this courtesy! the ftrain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey..

Alc. You have fav'd my longing, and I feed Moft hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right welcome, Sir.

E're we do part, we'll share a bounteous time (6).
In different pleafures. Pray you, let us in. [Exeunt

(5) That I had no angry wit to be a Lord,] This reading is abfurd, and unintelligible. But as I have reftor'd the text, it is fatirical enough of all confcience, and to the purpose: viz. I would hate myself, for having no more wit than to covet fo infignificant a title. In the fame. fenfe Shakespeare ales lean-witted, in his Richard 28.

And thou a lunatick, lean-witted, fool.

Mr. Warburton. (6) Ere we depart,---] Tho' the editions concur in this reading, it is certainly faulty. Who d part? Tho' Alcibiades was to leave Ti mon, Timon was not to depart from his own house. Common sense favours my emendation,

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Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullus.

Luc. What time a day is't, Apemantus ?
Apem. Time to be honest.

Luc. That time serves ftill.

Apem. The most accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. Lucul. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast.

Apem. Ay, to fee meat fill knaves, and wine heat fools.
Lucul. Fare thee well, fare thee well.

Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewel twice.
Lucul. Why, Apemantus?

Apem. Thou should't have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

Luc. Hang thyfelf.

Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.

Lucul. Away,unpeaceable dog,or--I'll fpurn thee hence. Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' afs. Luc. He's oppofite to humanity.

Come, fhall we in, and tafte Lord Timon's bounty? He, fure, outgoes the very heart of kindness.

Lucul. He pours it out. Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his fteward: no meed but he repays Seven-fold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding

All ufe of quittance.

Luc. The nobleft mind he carries,

That ever govern'd man.

Lucul. Long may he live in fortunes! 'fhall we in ? Luc. I'll keep you company.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, another Apartment in Timon's House. Hautboys playing, loud mufick. A great banquet ferv'd in; and then enter Timon, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian fenators, with Ventidius. Then comes dropping after all, Apemantus difcontentedly.

Ven.

M

Oft honour'd Timon, it hath pleas'd the gods To call my father's age unto long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich.

Then,

Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return thofe talents,

Doubled with thanks and fervice, from whofe help
I deriv'd liberty.

Tim. O, by no means,

Honeft Ventidius: you mistake my love;

I

gave it freely ever, and there's none

Can truly fay 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.
Ven. A noble fpirit.

Tim. Nay, ceremony was but devis'd at first,
To fet a glofs on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, forry ere 'tis shown:

But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray, fit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes, [They fit down.

Than they to me.

Luc. We always have confeft it.

Apem. Ho, ho, confeft it? hang'd it, have you not? Tim. O Apemantus, you are welcome.

Apem. No; you shall not make me welcome. I come to have thee thruft me out of doors.

Tim. Fie, th'art a churl; ye have got a humour there Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame: They fay, my Lords, that Ira furor brevis eft,

But yonder 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 ftay at thy peril, Timon; I come to obferve, I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; th'art an Athenian, therefore welcome; I myfelf would have no power-pr'ythee let my meat make thee filent.

Apem. I fcorn thy meat, 'twould choak me: for I fhould ne'er flatter thee. O you gods! what a number of men eat Timon, and he fees 'em not? It grieves me to see

So many dip their meat in one man's blood,

And all the madnefs is, he cheers them up too.

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