Timon of Athens - William Shakespeare [books to read romance txt] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
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’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
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.
So, so, there!
Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves,
And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out
Into baboon and monkey.
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 except Apemantus.
He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? he outgoes
The very heart of kindness.
He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays
Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.
The noblest mind he carries
That ever govern’d man.
A banqueting-room in Timon’s house.
Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; Flavius and others attending; then enter Lord Timon, Alcibiades, Lords, Senators, and Ventidius. Then comes, dropping after all, Apemantus, discontentedly, like himself. VentidiusMost honour’d Timon,
It hath pleased the gods to remember my father’s age,
And call him to long peace.
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
To your free heart, I do return those talents,
Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
I derived liberty.
O, by no means,
Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:
I gave it freely ever; and there’s none
Can truly say he gives, if he receives:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.
Nay, my lords, They all stand ceremoniously looking on Timon.
Ceremony was but devised at first
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodness, sorry ere ’tis shown;
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
Than my fortunes to me. They sit.
No;
You shall not make me welcome:
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
Fie, thou’rt a churl; ye’ve got a humour there
Does not become a man: ’tis much to blame.
They say, my lords, “ira furor brevis est;” but yond 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. ApemantusI scorn thy meat; ’twould choke me, for I should ne’er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of men eat 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 has 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.
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’ the mire:
This and my food are equals; there’s no odds:
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no
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