Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

Apem. Thou know'ft I 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't thou this picture, Apemantus?
Apem. The beft, 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.

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 fhould'ft, thou'dft anger Ladies.

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

Apem. So, thou apprehend'it it. Take it for thy labour. Tim. How dost 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 lieft.

Poet. Art thou not one?

Apem. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not.

Apem. Art not a poet?

Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou lieft: 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 of 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't do then, Apemantus ?

Apem.

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

Tim. What, thyself?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had fo 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!
Trumpets found. Enter a
Enter a Meffenger.

Tim. What trumpet's that?

Mef. "Tis Alcibiades, and fome twenty horfe 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 thankt 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, fo! aches contract, and ftarve your fupple joints that there fhould be fmall love amongst these fweet knaves, and all this courtesy! the ftrain of man's bred out into baboon and monkey.

Alc. You have fav'd my longing, and I feed

Moft hungerly on your fight.

Tim. Right welcome, Sir.

Ere we do part, we'll share a bounteous time (6)
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

[Exeunt.

(5) That I had no angry wit to be a Lord,] This reading is abfurd,, and unintelligible. But as I have reftor'd the text, it is fatirical enough of all confcience, and to the purpose: viz. I would hate myfelf, for having no more wit than to covet fo infignificant a title.. In the fame fenfe Shakespeare uses lean-witted, in his Richard 2d. And thou a lunatick, lean-witted, fool. Mr. Warburton.(6) Ere we depart,-] Tho' the editions concur in this reading, it is certainly faulty. Who depart? Tho' Alcibiades was to leave Timon, Timon was not to depart from his own houfe. Common fense favours my emendation,

[blocks in formation]

Manet Apemantus. Enter Lucius and Lucullus.
Luc. What time a day is't, Apemantus!
Apem. Time to be honest.

Luc. That time ferves ftill.

Apem. The most accurfed thou, that fill 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't 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 fpurn thee hence..
Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' th' ass.
Luc. He's oppofite to humanity.

Come, fhall we in, and taste 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
Seven-fold above itfelf; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding

All ufe 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, another Apartment in Timon's house. 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. M

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.

Then,

Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart," I do return thofe talents,
Doubled with thanks and fervice, from whofe 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 fay 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 ble fpirit.

Tim. Nay, ceremony was but devis'd at first,
To fet a glofs on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, forry ere 'tis fhown:

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 confest it.

[They fit down.

Apem. Ho, ho, confeft 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 thruft me out of doors.

Tim. Fie, th'art a churl; ye have got a humour there Does not become a man, 'tis much to blame:

They fay, my Lords, that Ira furor brevis eft,

But yonder 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.

Apem. Let me ftay at thy peril, Timon; I come to obferve, I give thee warning on't.

Tim. I take no heed of thee; th'art an Athenian, there fore welcome; I myfelf would have no power-pr'ythee let my meat make thee filent.

Apem. I fcorn thy meat, 'twould choak me: for I fhould ne'er flatter thee. O you gods! what a number of men eat. Timon, and he fees 'em hot? It grieves me to fee

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 themfelves with men !
Methinks, they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and fafer for their lives.
There's much example for't; the fellow that
Sits next him now, parts bread with him, and pledges
The breath of him in a divided draught,

Is th' readiest man to kill him. 'T has been prov'd.
Were I a great man, I fhould fear to drink,
Left they should fpy my wind-pipe's dangerous notes:
Great men fhould drink with harnefs on their throats.
Tim. My Lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
Lucul. Let it flow this way, my good Lord.

Apem. Flow this way!-a brave fellow he keeps his tides well; thofe healths will make thee and thy ftate look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to be a finner, honeft water, which ne'er left man i' th' mire; This and my food are equal, there's no odds; Feafts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

Apemantus's grace.

Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself;
Grant, I may never prove fo fond
To truft man on his oath, or bond;
Or a harlot for her weeping;
Or a dog, that seems a fleeping;
Or a keeper with my freedom;

Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen, Amen; So fall to't:

Rich men fin, and I eat root.

Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

Tim. Captain, Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. Alc. My heart is ever at your service, my Lord. Tim. You had rather been at a breakfast of enemies, than a dinner of friends.

Alc. So they were bleeding new, my Lord, there's no meat like 'em. I could with my friend at such a feast. Apem. Would all thefe flatterers were thine enemies thep; that thou might'st kill 'em, and bid me to 'em!

Luc.

« VorigeDoorgaan »