Tim. Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.[2485]
Apem. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself,[2486]
A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st[2487]
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, 220
Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,[2488]
That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook,[2489]
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures 225
Whose naked natures live in all the spite
Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
O, thou shalt find—
Tim. A fool of thee: depart.[2490] 230
Apem. I love thee better now than e'er I did.[2491]
Tim. I hate thee worse.
Apem. Why?[2492]
Tim. Thou flatter'st misery.
Apem. I flatter not, but say thou art a caitiff.
Tim. Why dost thou seek me out?
Apem. To vex thee.[2493]