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Honest Ventidius : you mistake my love,
Ven. A noble spirit.
Tim, Nay, ceremony was but devis'd at first,
[Tbey fit down.
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 say, my Lords, that Ira furor brevis eft, But yonder man is ever angry. Go, And let him have a table by himself : For he does neither affect company, Nor is he fit for it indeed.
Apem. Let me stay at thy peril, Timon : I come to observe, I give thee warning on't.
Tim. I take no heed of thee ; th' art an Abenian, there, fore welcome ; I my self would have no power, pr’ythee let my meat make thee filent.
Apem. I scorn thy meat, 'twould choak me: for I should ne'er fatter thee. O you Gods ! what a number of men eat Timon, and he sees it 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, and pledges The breath of him in a divided draught,
Is th' readiest man to kill him. 'T has been prov'd.
Tim. My Lord, in heart; and let the health go round:
Apem. 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 tinner, 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.
Rich men fin, and I eat root.
Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. Alc. My heart is ever at your service, my Lord.
Tim. You had rather be 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 these flatterers were thine enemies then ; that thou might'st kill 'em, and bid me to 'em!- ,
Luc. Might we but have the happiness, my Lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think our selves for ever perfect.
Tim. Oh, no doubt, my good friends, but the Gods themselves have provided that I shall have as much help from you : how had you been my friends else? why have you that character and title from thousands, did not you
chiefly belong to my heart ? I have told more of you to my self, than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf. And thus far 'I confirm you ; oh you Gods, (think I,) what need we have any friends, if we should never have need of 'em ? they would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wisht my self poorer, that I might come nearer to you : we are born to do benefits. And what better or properer' can we call our own, than the riches of our friends ? o, what a precious comfort 'tis to have fo many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes ! O joy, e'en made a joy ere't can be born; mine eyes cannot hold water, methinks : to forget their faults, I drink
Apem. Thou weepest but to make them drink thee, Timon,
Lucul. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
Tim. Ladies? what are their wills ?
Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner, my Lord,
Tim. They're welcome all ; let 'em have kind admittance.
Apem. Hoyday! why, what a sweep of vanity Comes this way! And they dance, they are mad women. Like madness is the glory of this life, As this pomp thews to a little oyl and root. We make our selves fools, to disport our selves; And spend our flatteries, to drink those men, Upon whose age we void it up again, With poisonous spite and envy. Who lives, that's not Depraved, or depraves ? who dies, that bears Not one spurn to their graves of their friends gift? I should fear, those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me : 'T has been done ; Men shut their doors against a setting fun. The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of Timon, each singles out a Lady, and all dance, men with women, a lofty Atrain or two to the bautboys, and cease.
Tim. You have done our pleasures very much grace, fair Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
[Ladies, Which was not half so beautiful and kind : You've added worth unto't, and lively lustre, And entertain'd me with mine own device, I am to thank you for it.
Lu. My Lord, you take us even at the best. Apem. 'Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold taking, I doubt me.
Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you. Please you to dispose your felves.
All La. Molt thankfully, my Lord. [Exeunt.
Flav. Yes, my Lord. More jewels yet ? there is no crossing him in's humour, Elle I should tell him well - i' faith, I should, When all's spent, he'd be cross’d then if he could : 'Tis pity bounty has not eyes behind, That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. [Exit
Luc. Where be our men?
Tim. O my good friends!
Luc. I am so far already in your gifts
[Exe, Lucius and Lucullus.
Re-enter Flavius. Flav. I beseech your Honour, vouchsafe me a word ; it does concern you near.
Tim. Me near ? why then another time I'll hear thee. I pr’ythee let's be provided to ihew them entertainment. Flav, I scarce know how.
Enter another Servant. 2 Ser. May it please your Honour, Lord Lucius, out of his free love, hath presented to you four milk-white horses trapt in silver.
Tim. I fall aceept them fairly: let the presents Be worthily entertain'd.
Enter a third Servant, How now? what news ?
3 Ser. Please you, my Lord, that honourable gentle. man,
Lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-mortow to hunt with him, and has sent your Honour two brace of grey-hounds.
Tim. l'll hunt with him; and let them be received,
Flav, What will this come to?