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

Tim. What, thyself?

Apem. Ay. . *

#m. Wherefore ?

Apem. That I had so hungry a wit to be a Lord.—(5) 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!

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Wen. OST 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.
- or Then,

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