I call the gods to witnefs, I will chufe

Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And difpoffefs her all.

Tim. How fhall fhe be endowed,

If the be mated with an equal husband?

Old Ath. Three talents on the prefent, in future all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath ferv'd me long; To build his fortune I will ftrain a little,

For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoife,
And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Moft 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 ftate or fortune fall into my keeping,

Which is not own'd to you.

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

fhip!

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 befeech Your Lordship to accept.

Tim. Painting is welcome.

The painting is almost the natural man :

For fince difhonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outfide: pencil'd figures are

I like

your

work

Wait attendance

Ev'n fuch as they give out.
And you fhall find I like it.
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? difpraise ?

Tim. A mere fatiety of commendations :

If I fhould 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 value, differing in the owners,

Are

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 fpeak with him.

Tim. Look, who comes here.

SCENE III. Enter Apemantus.

Will you be chid?

Jew. We'll bear it with your Lordship.
Mer. He'll fpare none.

[tongue,

Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus ! Apem. Till I be gentle, ftay for thy good morrow t.

*

*

*

*

*

Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honeft.

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

Apem. Are they not Athenians?

Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus.

Apem. Thou know'ft 1 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'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. Y'are a dog.

+ The first line of Apemantus's anfwer is to the purpofe; the fecond abfurd and nonfenfical; which proceeds from the lofs of a fpeech dropt from between them, that fhould be thus restored. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus !

Tim.

Apem. Till I be gentle flay for thy good morrow.

[Poet. When will that be?}

Apem. When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves boneft.'-·

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation. What's fhe, if 1 be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apem. No, I eat not lords.

Tim. If thou fhould'st, thou’dst anger ladies.

Apem. O, they eat lords; fo they come by great bellies. Tim. That's a lafcivious apprehenfion.

Apem. So thou apprehend'ft it. 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 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 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 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'st do then, Apemantus?

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

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?"

Mel. 'Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horfe,

All

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 reft.

Moft welcome, Sir!

[Bowing and embracing. Apem. So, fo! Aches contract and ftarve your fupple joints! that there should be small love amongst these fweet 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 fhare a bounteous time

In different pleasures. Pray you let us in.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullus. Luc. What time a day is't, Apemantus?

Apem. Time to be honeft.

Luc. That time serves ftill.

Apem. The more accurfed thou that ftill omitt'ft 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 fhould'st have kept one to thyfelf, 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 fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' afs. [Exit Apem.

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
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! fhall we in?
Luc. I'll keep you company..

[Exeunt:

SCENE V. Another apartment in Timon's houfe.

Hautboys playing, loud mufic. A great banquet ferv'd in ; and then enter Timon, Lucius, Lucullus, Sempronius, and other Athenian Senators, with Ventidius. Then comes,

dropping after all, Apemantus difcontentedly.

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
Το 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 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.

Apem. 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,

Than they to me.

Luc. We always have confefs'd it.

[They fit down.

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

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

goodness, for beneficence.