Timon of Athens (Folio 1, 1623)
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Timon of Athens.
81
¶I gaue it freely euer, and ther's none
¶Can truely say he giues, if he receiues:
¶If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
355To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire.
360But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
¶Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,
¶Then my Fortunes to me.
365Timo. O Apermantus, you are welcome.
¶I come to haue thee thrust me out of doores.
¶Tim. Fie, th'art a churle, ye'haue got a humour there
¶Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame:
¶But yond man is verie angrie.
¶Go, let him haue a Table by himselfe:
¶For he does neither affect companie,
¶Nor is he fit for't indeed.
¶I come to obserue, I giue thee warning on't.
¶Tim. I take no heede of thee: Th'art an Athenian,
¶therefore welcome: I my selfe would haue no power,
¶prythee let my meate make thee silent.
¶should nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number
¶of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not? It greeues me
¶Me thinks they should enuite them without kniues,
¶Good for there meate, and safer for their liues.
¶There's much example for't, the fellow that sits next him,
¶now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in
390a diuided draught: is the readiest man to kill him. 'Tas
¶beene proued, if I were a huge man I should feare to
¶on their throates.
395Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round.
¶2.Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord.
¶Aper. Flow this way? A braue fellow. He keepes his
¶looke ill, Timon.
400Heere's that which is too weake to be a sinner,
¶Honest water, which nere left man i'th' mire:
¶This and my food are equals, there's no ods,
¶Feasts are to proud to giue thanks to the Gods.
¶
Apermantus Grace.
405
Immortall Gods, I craue no pelfe,
¶I pray for no man but my selfe,
¶Graunt I may neuer proue so fond,
¶To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
¶Or a Harlot for her weeping,
¶Or a keeper with my freedome,
¶Or my friends if I should need 'em.
¶
Amen. So fall too't:
¶Richmen sin, and I eat root.
415Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus
¶Tim. Captaine,
¶Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now.
420then a dinner of Friends.
¶Alc. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there's no
¶then, that then thou might'st kill 'em: & bid me to 'em.
¶that you would once vse our hearts, whereby we might
¶selues for euer perfect.
¶Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods
¶from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why
¶haue you that charitable title from thousands? Did not
¶you chiefely belong to my heart? I haue told more of
435your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh
¶you Gods (thinke I,) what need we haue any Friends; if
¶I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do bene-
¶fits. And what better or properer can we call our owne,
¶then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a pretious com-
445fort 'tis, to haue so many like Brothers commanding
¶one anothers Fortunes. Oh ioyes, e'ne made away er't
¶can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks
¶to forget their Faults. I drinke to you.
4502.Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eies,
¶Aper. Much.
455
Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with
¶
Lutes in their hands, dauncing and playing.
¶Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now?
¶
Enter Seruant.
¶Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?
¶Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
¶Tim. I pray let them be admitted.
465
Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.
¶Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
¶their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious
¶bosome.
¶They onely now come but to Feast thine eies.
¶Timo. They'r wecome all, let 'em haue kind admit-
¶tance. Musicke make their welcome.
475Aper. Hoyday,
¶What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way.
¶They daunce? They are madwomen,
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