MERCHANT.
No, my good lord, he speaks the common tongue,
Which all men speak with him.
Enter Apemantus.
TIMON.
Look who comes here. Will you be chid?
JEWELLER.
We’ll bear, with your lordship.
MERCHANT.
He’ll spare none.
TIMON.
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.
Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow—
When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
TIMON.
Why dost thou call them knaves? Thou know’st them not.
APEMANTUS.
Are they not Athenians?
TIMON.
Yes.