Does not become a man; ’tis much to blame.

They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est,

But yon 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.

APEMANTUS

Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon.

I come to observe, I give thee warning on’t.

TIMON

I take no heed of thee; thou’rt an Athenian,

Therefore welcome. I myself would have no power:

Prithee, let my meat make thee silent.

APEMANTUS I scorn thy meat. ‘Twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ‘em 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, pledges the breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him. ’T’as been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals, Lest they should spy my windpipe’s dangerous notes. Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

TIMON (drinking to a Lord)

My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

SECOND LORD

Let it flow this way, my good lord.

APEMANTUS ‘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 sinner:

Honest water, which ne‘er left man i’th’ mire.

This and my food are equals; there’s no odds.

Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

Apemantus’ grace

Immortal gods, I crave no pelf.

I pray for no man but myself.

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,

Or my friends if I should need ’em.

Amen. So fall to’t.

Rich men sin, and I eat root.

⌈He eats⌉

Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus.

TIMON Captain Alcibiades, your heart’s in the field now.

ALCIBIADES My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

TIMON You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a dinner of friends.

ALCISIADES So they were bleeding new, my lord; there’s no meat like ’em. I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

APEMANTUS

Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then,

That thou mightst kill ‘em and bid me to ’em.

FIRST LORD (to Timon) Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.

TIMON O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. ‘O you gods,’ think I, ‘what need we have any friends if we should ne’er have need of ‘em? They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne’er have use for ‘em, and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keeps their sounds to themselves.’ Why, I have often wished myself 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 so many like brothers commanding one another’s fortunes! O, joy’s e’en made away ere’t can be born: mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their faults, I drink to you.

APEMANTUS Thou weep’st to make them drink, Timon.

SECOND LORD (to Timon)

Joy had the like conception in our eyes,

And at that instant like a babe sprung up.

APEMANTUS

Ho, ho, I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

THIRD LORD (to Timon)

I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

APEMANTUS Much!

A tucket sounds within

TIMON What means that trump?

Enter a Servant

How now?

SERVANT Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.

TIMON Ladies? What are their wills?

SERVANT There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office to signify their pleasures.

TIMON I pray let them be admitted.

Enter one as Cupid

CUPID

Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all

That of his bounties taste! The five best senses

Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely

To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th’ear,

Taste, touch, smell, all, pleased from thy table rise.

They only now come but to feast thine eyes.

TIMON

They’re welcome all. Let ’em have kind admittance.

Music make their welcome! Exit Cupid

⌈FIRST LORD⌉

You see, my lord, how ample you’re beloved.

Music. Enter a masque of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing

APEMANTUS

Hey-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!

They dance? They are madwomen.

Like madness is the glory of this life

As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,

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’as been done.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The Lords rise from table with much adoring of

Timon; and to show their loves each singles out an

Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty

strain or two to the hautboys; and cease

TIMON

You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,

Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,