Timon of Athens

epub:type="z3998:persona">Apemantus Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow. Poet That’s not feigned; he is so. Apemantus Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o’ the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! Timon What wouldst do then, Apemantus? Apemantus E’en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. Timon What, thyself? Apemantus Ay. Timon Wherefore? Apemantus That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant? Merchant Ay, Apemantus. Apemantus Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! Merchant If traffic do it, the gods do it. Apemantus Traffic’s thy god; and thy god confound thee! Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger. Timon What trumpet’s that? Messenger

’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.

Timon

Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I have thank’d you: when dinner’s done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

Enter Alcibiades, with the rest. Most welcome, sir! Apemantus

So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.

Alcibiades

Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight.

Timon

Right welcome, sir!
Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. Exeunt all except Apemantus.

Enter two Lords. First Lord What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus? Apemantus Time to be honest. First Lord That time serves still. Apemantus The more accursed thou, that still omitt’st it. Second Lord Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast? Apemantus Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. Second Lord Fare thee well, fare thee well. Apemantus Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. Second Lord Why, Apemantus? Apemantus Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none. First Lord Hang thyself! Apemantus No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend. Second Lord Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence! Apemantus I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’ the ass. Exit. First Lord

He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.

Second 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.

First Lord

The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern’d man.

Second Lord Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? First Lord I’ll keep you company. Exeunt.

Scene II

A banqueting-room in Timon’s house.

	Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; Flavius and others attending; then enter Lord Timon, Alcibiades, Lords, Senators, and Ventidius. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself.
Ventidius	Most honour’d Timon, It hath pleased 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 derived liberty.
Timon	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.
Ventidius	A noble spirit!
Timon	Nay, my lords, They all stand ceremoniously looking on Timon. Ceremony was but devised 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.
First Lord	My lord, we always have confess’d it.
Apemantus	Ho, ho, confess’d it! hang’d it, have you not?
Timon	O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
Apemantus	No; You shall not make me welcome: I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Timon	Fie, thou’rt a churl; ye’ve got a humour there Does not become a man: ’tis much to blame. They say, my lords, “ira furor brevis est;” but yond 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.
Apemantus	Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to observe; I give thee warning on’t.
Timon	I take no heed of thee; thou’rt an Athenian, therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; prithee, let my meat make thee silent.
Apemantus	I scorn thy meat; ’twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eat 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 has been proved. 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.
Timon	My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
Second Lord	Let it flow this way, my good lord.
Apemantus	Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy state look ill, Timon. Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne’er left man i’ the mire: This and my food are equals; there’s no odds: Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
	Apemantus’ grace.
	Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; I pray for no