Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.

1. LORD. Hang thyself!

APEM. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding; make thy requests to thy friend.

2. LORD. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!

APEM. I will fly, like a dog, the heels a' th' ass.

[Exit.]

 

1. LORD.

He's opposite to humanity. [Come], shall we in

And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes

The very heart of kindness.

2. 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.

1. LORD.

The noblest mind he carries

That ever govern'd man.

2. LORD.

Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

[1. LORD]. I'll keep you company.

 

Exeunt.

 

 

[Scene II]

Hoboys playing loud music. A great banquet serv'd in, [Flavius and others attending;] and then enter Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, [Alcibiades, and] Ventidius, which Timon redeem'd from prison. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself.

 

VEN.

Most honored Timon,

It hath pleas'd 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 deriv'd liberty.

TIM.

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.

VEN.

A noble spirit!

TIM.

Nay, my lords,

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 sit, more welcome are ye to my fortunes

Than my fortunes to me.

 

[They sit.]

 

1. LORD.

My lord, 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.

Fie, th' art a churl. Ye have got a humor there

Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame.

They say, my lords, »Ira furor brevis est,«

But yond man is very 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 stay at thine apperil, Timon.

I come to observe, I give thee warning on't.

TIM. I take no heed of thee; th' art an Athenian, therefore welcome. I myself would have no power; prithee let my meat make thee silent.

APEM. I scorn thy meat, 'twould choke me; for I should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods! what a number of men eats 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 'as been prov'd. 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.

TIM. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

2.