Tim. Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there[1769]
Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame.
ey say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond man[1770][1771][1772]
is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself; for he[1770][1772][1773]
does neither affect company, nor is he fit for't indeed.[1770][1774]30
Apem. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon:[1775][1776]
I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.[1775]
Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian,[1777][1778]
therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; prithee,[1777][1779]
let my meat make thee silent.[1777] 35
Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I[1780][1781]
should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of[1780][1781]
men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me to see[1780][1782]
so many dip their meat in one man's blood; and all the[1780][1783]
madness is, he cheers them up too.[1780][1784] 40
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
Methinks they should invite them without knives;
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.[1785]
There's much example for't; the fellow that sits next him[1786]
now, parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a[1786][1787]45
divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him: 't has[1786][1788][1789]
been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink[1786][1789][1790]
at meals;[1786]
Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:[1791]
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.[1791] 50
Tim. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.[1792]
Sec. Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord.[1793]
Apem. Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his[1794]
tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy state[1794]
look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to be a[1794] 55
sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:[1794][1795]
This and my food are equals; there's no odds:[1794][1796]
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.[1794][1797]
Apemantus's Grace.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself: 60
Grant I may never prove so fond,
To trust man on his oath or bond,
Or a harlot for her weeping,
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedom, 65
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't:[1798]
Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks.[1799]
Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus![1800]