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On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her

Myself have spoke in vain.

The man is honest.
Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon :
His honesty rewards him in itself;

130 It must not bear my daughter. Tim.

Does she love him? Old Ath. She is young and apt:

Our own precedent passions do instruct us

What levity's in youth.
Tim. [To Lucilius]

Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good lord ; and she accepts of it.
Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing,

I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,

And dispossess her all.

How shall she be endow'd
If she be mated with an equal husband ?

140 Old Ath. Three talents on the present ; in future, all. Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served me long:

To build his fortune I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,

And make him weigh with her.
Old Ath.

Most noble lord,
Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Tim. Mine hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.


Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may

That state or fortune fall into my keeping, 150
Which is not owed to you !

[Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! Tim. I thank you ; you shall hear from me anon:

Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech

Your lordship to accept.

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are
Even such as they give out, I like your work,

And you shall find I like it: wait attendance

hear further from me. Pain.

The gods preserve ye! Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;

We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel

Hath suffer'd under praise. Jew.

What, my lord ! dispraise ? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.

If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd,
It would unclew me quite.

My lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would give : but you well

Things of like value, differing in the owners, 170
Are prized by their masters : believe 't, dear lord,

You mend the jewel by the wearing it. Tim. Well mock'd. Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,


Which all men speak with him.
Tim. Look, who comes here: will you be chid ?


Enter Apemantus. Jew. We'll bear, with your lordship. Mer.

He 'll spare none. Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus ! Apem. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;

When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves ? thou know'st them not.

Apem. Are they not Athenians ?
Tim. Yes.
Apem. Then I repent not.
Jew. You know me, Apemantus ?
Apem. Thou know 'st I do ; I call’d thee by thy name.
Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.
Apem. Of nothing so much as that I am not like

Tim. Whither art going?

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
Tim. That's a deed thou 'lt die for.
Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus ?
Apem. The best, for the innocence.
Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it ?
Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and

yet he's but a filthy piece of work. Pain. You ’re a dog. Apem. Thy mother 's of my generation : what's she, 200

if I be a dog ? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus ?

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Apem. No; I eat not lords.
Tim. An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies.

Apem. O, they eat lords ; so they come by great bellies.
Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.
Apem. So thou apprehend'st it : take it for thy labour.
Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus ?
Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not

cost a man a doit.
Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?
Apem. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!
Poet. How now, philosopher !
Apem. Thou liest.
Poet. Art not one ?
Apem. Yes.
Poet. Then I lie not.
Apem. Art not a poet?
Poet. Yes.
Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where 220

thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
Poet. That's not feigned; he is so.
Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee

for thy labour : he that loves to be flattered is
worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were

a lord!
Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus ?
Apem. E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with

my heart.


Tim. What, thyself?
Apem. Ay.
Tim. Wherefore ?
Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not

thou a merchant ?


Mer. Ay, Apemantus.
Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not !
Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.
Apem. Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
Tim. What trumpet's that?
Mess. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, 240

All of companionship.
Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.

[Exeunt some Attendants.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done,
Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

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Enter Alcibiades, with the rest.
Most welcome, sir !

So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints !
That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet

And all this courtesy! The strain of man 's bred out
Into baboon and monkey.

250 Alcib. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed

Most hungerly on your sight.

Right welcome, sir!
Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

[Exeunt all but Apemantus.

Enter two Lords.
First Lord. What time o' day, is 't, Apemantus ?

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