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I call the gods to witness, I will chuse
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

Tim. How shall the be endowed,
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 :
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Moft Noble Lord,
Pawn me to this your honour,-lhe is his.

Tim. My hand to thee, mine honour on my promiso.

Luc. Humbly I thank your Lordship: never may
That state or fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not own'd to you.

[Exeunt Lucilius and old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your Lord.

Ship!
Tim. I thank you, you shall hear from me anon :
Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech
Your Lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man :
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: pencil'd figures are
Ev'n such as they give out. I like your work ;
And
you

shall find I like it. Wait attendance
Till
you

hear further from me.. Pain. The gods preserve ye !

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

Jew. What, my Lord ? dispraise ?

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

Jew. My Lord, 'tis rated
As those which fell would give : but you well know,
Things of like values differing in the owners,

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Are by their masters priz'd : 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
Which all men speak with him.

[tongue, Tim. Look, who comes here,

SCENE III. Enter Apemantus.
Will
you

be chid?
Few. We'll bear it with your Lordship.
Mer. He'll spare none.
Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus !
Apem. Till I be gentle, stay for thy good morrow f.
Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves

honest.
Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou know'st
them not.

Apen. Are they not: Athenians ?
Tim. Yes.
Apem. Then I' repent' not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus.
Apem. Thou know'ft 1 do, I callid 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.
Tim. How lik?ft thou this picture, Apemantus ?
Apem. The better, 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. Yare a dog.

Apen. + The first line of Apemantus's answer is to the purpose ; the fecond absurd and nonsensical; which proceeds from the loss of a speech dropt from between them, that should be thus restored..

Tim. Good morrow to tbce, gentle A pemantus !
Apem. Till I be gentie fluy for thy good morrozu.
[Poet. When will that be]
Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves bonefo'.

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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. If thou shouldst, thou’dft anger ladies.
Apem. O, they eat lords ; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehendit it. Take it for thy labour.
Tim. How doft thou like this jewel, Apemantus ?

Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not coit 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 lyeft.
Poet. Art thou not one?
Apem. Yes.
Poet. Then I lye not.
Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou lyeft : look in thy last work, where thou hast feign’d him a worthy fellow.

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

Apem. Yes, he is worthy o'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'ít do then, Apemantus ?
Apem. Ev'n as Apemantus does now, hate a lord with
Tim. What, thyfelf?
Apem. Ay.
Tim. Wherefore ?

Apem. That I had fo hungry a wit to be a lord.
Art thou not a merchant ?

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.
Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not !
Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.
Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee !

Trumpets found. Enter a Messenger.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Mef. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,

Al

my heart.

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 thank'd you; and when dinner's done,
Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your fights.

Enter Alcibiades with the rest.
Most welcome, Sir!

[Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, so! Aches contract and flarve your supple joints ! that there should be small love amongft these sweet knaves, and all this courtesy! the strain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.

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

Tim. Right welcome, Sir.
Ere we do part, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you let us in. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.
Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullys.
Luc. What time a day is't, Apemantus ?
Apem. Time to be honest.
Luc. That time serves ftill.
Apem. The more accursed thou that ftill omitt'st it.
Lucul. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast.
Apem. Ay, to see 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 thyself.

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

Lucul. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence. Apem. I will Ay, like a dog, the heels o' th' ass.

[Exit Apem. · Luc. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, and taste Lord Timon's bounty? He sure outgoes the very heart of kindness. Lucul. He pours it out. Plutus, the god of gold,

Is

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Is but his fteward : no meed but he repays”
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.

Luc. The nobleft mind he carries,
That ever govern'd man.

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

[Exeunt. SCENE V. Another apartment in Timon's house. Hautboys playing, loud music. A great banquet feru'd in;

and then enter Timon, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian Senators, with Ventidius.

Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus discontentedly.

Ven. Moft 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,

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 deriv'd liberty.

Tim. O, by no means,
Honeft Ventidius: you miftake 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.
Apem. Dare to imitate them :. faults that are rich, are

fair.
Ven. A noble spirit.

Tim. Nay, ceremony was but devis’d 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 fit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes,
Than they to me.

[They fit down.
Luc. We always have confess'd it.
Apem. Ho, ho, confess'd 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 thrust me out of doors.

Tim. goodness, for beneficence.

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