More man? plague, plague.

Apem.
I was directed hither. Men report
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

Tim.
'Tis then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate; consumption catch thee!

Apem.
This is in thee a nature but affected,
A poor unmanly melancholy, sprung
From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit, and these looks of care?
Thy flatt'rers yet wear silk, drink wine, lye soft,
Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatt'rer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee; hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent. Thou wast told thus:
Thou gav'st thine ears, like tapsters, that bid welcome
To knaves, and all approachers: 'Tis most just
That thou turn rascal: hadst thou wealth again,

Rascals should have't. Do not assume my Likeness.

Tim.
Were I like thee, I'd throw away my self.

Apem.
Thou'ast cast away thy self, being like thy self,
So long a mad-man, now a fool. What, think'st thou
&plquo;That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
&plquo;Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moist trees
&plquo;That have out-liv'd the eagle, page thy heels,
&plquo;And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook
&plquo;Candied with ice, cawdle thy morning taste
&plquo;To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
&plquo;Whose naked natures live in all the spight
&plquo;Of wreakful heav'n, whose bare unhoused trunks
&plquo;To the conflicting elements expos'd,
&plquo;Answer meer nature; bid them flatter thee;
&plquo;Oh! thou shalt find—

Tim.
A fool of thee; depart.

Apem.
I love thee better now than e'er I did.

Tim.
I hate thee worse.

Apem.
Why?

Tim.
Thou flatter'st misery.

Apem.
I flatter not, but say thou art a caytiff.

Tim.
Why dost thou seek me out?

Apem.
To vex thee.

Tim.
Always a villain's office, or a fool's.
Dost please thy self in't?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
What! a knave too?

Apem.
If thou didst put this sowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou
Dost it enforcedly: thou'dst courtier be
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Out-lives incertain pomp; is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never compleat;

The other, at high wish: Best states, contentless,
Have a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

Tim.
Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
&plquo;Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm
&plquo;With favour never claspt; but bred a dog.
&plquo;Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath proceeded
&plquo;Through sweet degrees that this brief world affords,
&plquo;To such, as may the passive drugs of it
&plquo;Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thy self
&plquo;In general riot, melted down thy youth
&plquo;In different beds of lust, and never learn'd
&plquo;The icy precepts of respect, but followed
&plquo;The sugar'd game before thee. But my self,
&plquo;Who had the world as my confectionary,
&plquo;The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men
&plquo;At duty more than I could frame employments;
&plquo;That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves
&plquo;Do on the oak; have with one winter's brush
&plquo;Fall'n from their boughs, and left me open, bare
&plquo;For every storm that blows. I to bear this,
&plquo;That never knew but better, is some burthen.
&plquo;Thy nature did commence in suff'rance, time
&plquo;Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
&plquo;They never flatter'd thee. What hast thou given?
&plquo;If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
&plquo;Must be thy subject, who in spight put stuff
&plquo;To some she-beggar, and compounded thee
&plquo;Poor rogue hereditary. Hence! be gone—
If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
Thou hadst been knave and flatterer.

Apem.
Art thou proud yet?

Tim.
Ay, that I am not thee.

Apem.
I, that I was no prodigal.

Tim.
I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I have, shut up in thee,
I'd give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone—
That the whole life of Athens were in this!
Thus would I eat it.* ^note






[Eating a root.

Apem.
What wouldst thou have to Athens?

Tim.
Thee thither in a whirlwind; if thou wilt,
Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

Apem.
Here is no use for gold.

Tim.
The best and truest:
For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

Apem.
Where ly'st a-nights, Timon?

Tim.
Under that's above me.
Where feed'st thou a-days, Apemantus?

Apem.

Where my stomach finds meat, or rather where I eat it.

Tim.
Would poison were obedient, and knew my mind.

Apem.
Where wouldst thou send it?

Tim.
To sawce thy dishes.

Apem.

The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy gilt, and thy perfume, they mockt thee, for too much curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art despis'd for the contrary. * ^note

things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers?

Tim.

Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

Apem.

Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

Tim.

Wouldst thou have thy self fall in the confusion of men, or remain a beast with the beasts?

Apem.

Ay, Timon.

&plquo;Tim.

&plquo;A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'attain to. If thou wert a lion, the fox would beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would eat thee; if thou wert the fox, the lion would suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accus'd by the the ass; if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and still thou liv'st but as a breakfast to the wolf. If thou wert the wolf, thy greediness would afflict thee; and oft thou shouldst hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee, and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury. Wert thou a bear, thou wouldst be kill'd by the horse; wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the leopard; wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to the lion, and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on thy life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art thou already, and seest not thy loss in transformation.&prquo;

Apem.

If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou might'st have hit upon it here. The commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts.

Tim.

How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

Apem.
Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

Tim.
Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon.

Apem.
A plague on thee. Thou art too bad to curse.

Tim.
All villains that do stand by thee, are pure.

Apem.
There is no leprosie but what thou speak'st.

Tim.
I'll beat thee; but I should infect my hands.

Apem.
I would my tongue could rot them off.

Tim.
Away thou issue of a mangy dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I swoon to see thee.

Apem.
Would thou wouldst burst.

Tim.

Away thou tedious rogue, I am sorry I shall lose a stone by thee.

Apem.

Beast!

Tim.

Slave!

Apem.

Toad!

Tim.
Rogue! rogue! rogue!
I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
But ev'n the meer necessities upon it.
Then Timon presently prepare thy grave;
Lye where the light foam of the sea may beat
Thy grave-stone daily; make thine epitaph,
That death in me, at others lives may laugh.
&plquo;O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce [Looking on the gold.
&plquo;'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
&plquo;Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars,
&plquo;Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
&plquo;Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow,
&plquo;That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
&plquo;That souldrest close impossibilities,
&plquo;And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue
&plquo;To every purpose; Oh thou touch of hearts!
&plquo;Think thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
&plquo;Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
&plquo;May have the world in empire.

Apem.
Would 'twere so,
But not 'till I am dead. I'll say th'hast gold;
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

Tim.
Throng'd to?

Apem.
Ay.

Tim.
Thy back, I pr'ythee.

Apem.
Live, and love thy misery,

Tim.
Long live so, and so die. I am quit.

Apem.

Mo things like men—Eat, Timon, and abhor them. The plague of company light upon thee; I will fear to catch it, and give way. When I know not what else to do, I'll see thee again.

Tim.

When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.