Tim. Not by his Breath, that is more miferable.
Thou art a Slave, whom Fortune's tender Arm
With Favour never clafpt; but bred a Dog.
Hadft thou like us from our firft fwath proceeded,
Through fweet Degrees that this brief World affords,
To fuch as may the paffive Drugs of it

Freely command; thou wouldst have plung'd thy felf
In general Riot, melted down thy Youth
In different Beds of Luft, and never learn'd
The icy Precepts of Refpect, but followed
The Sugared Game before thee. But my felf,
Who had the World as my Confectionary,

The Mouths, the Tongues, the Eyes, the Hearts of Men,
At Duty more than I could frame Employments;
That numberlefs upon me ftuck, as leaves

Do on the Oak, have with one Winters brush
Fall'n from their Boughs, and left me open bare,
For every Storm that blows. I to bear this,
That never knew but better, is fome burthen.
Thy Nature did commence in Sufferance, Time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why fhouldst thou hate Men?
They never flatter'd thee. What haft thou given?
If thou wilt Curfe; thy Father, that poor Rag,
Must be thy Subject; who in fpight put ftuff
To fome She-Beggar, and compounded thee-
Poor Rogue, hereditary. Hence! be gone-
If thou hadft not been the worst of Men,
Thou hadft been a Knave and Flattere.
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 fhut 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.

Apem. Here will I mend thy Feaft.

[Eating a Root,

Tim. First mend thy Company, take away thy felf. Apem. So I fhall mend mine own, by th'lack of thine, Tim. 'Tis not well mended fo, it is but botcht;

If not, I would it were.

Apem. What wouldst thou have to Athens?
Tim. Thee thither in a Whirlwind; if thou wilt,
Tell them there I have Gold, look, fo I have.
Apem. Here is no ufe for Gold.

Tim. The best and trueft:

For here it fleeps, and does no hired harm.
Apem. Where ly'ft 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 Poifon were obedient, and knew my Mind. Apem. Where wouldst thou fend it?

Tim. To fawce thy Dishes.

Apem. The middle of humanity thou never kneweft, but the extremity of both ends. When thou waft in thy Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee, for too much curiofity; in thy Rags thou knoweft none, but art defpis'd for the contrary. There's a Medler for thee, eat it.

Tim. On what I hate, I feed not.
Apem. Doft hate a Medler?

Tim. Ay, though it look like thee.

Apem. And th'hadft hated Medlers fooner, thou shouldst have loved thy felf better now. What Man did'ft thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his Means?

Tim. Who without thofe Means thou talk'ft of, didft thou ever know beloved?

Apem. My felf.

Tim. I understand thee, thou hadft fome Means to keep a Dog.

Apem. What things in the World canft thou nearest compare to thy Flatterers?

Tim. Women neareft; 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 Beafts, to be rid of the Men.

Tim. Wouldst thou have thy felf fall in the confufion of Men, and remain a Beaft with the Beafts,

Apem. By, Timon.

Tim. A beaftly Ambition, which the Gods grants thee

t'attain

t'attain to. If thou wert the Lion, the Fox would beguile thee; if thou wert the Lamb, the Fox would eat thee; if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would fufpect thee, when peradventure thou wert accus'd by the Afs; if thou wert the Afs, thy dulnefs would torment thee; and ftill thou liv'ft but as a Breakfaft to the Wolf. If thou wert the Wolf, thy greedinefs would affli& thee, and oft thou fhould hazard thy Life for thy Dinner. Wert thou the Unicorn, Pride and Wrath would confound thee, and make trine own felf the Conqueft of thy Fury. Wert thou a Bear, thou would't be kill'd by the Horfe; wert thou a Horfe, thou wouldst be feized by the Leopard; wert thou a Leopard, thou wert German to the Lion, and the fpots of thy Kindred, were Jurors on thy Life. All thy fafety were remotion, and thy Defence abfence. What Beaft couldft thou be, that were not fubject to a Beaft; and what a Beaft art thou already, and feeft not thy Lofs in Tranf formation.

Apem. If thou couldst please me

With speaking to me, thou might'ft
Have hit upon it here.

The Commonwealth of Athens is become

A Foreft of Beafts.

Tim. How has the Afs broke the Wall, that thou art out of the City.

Apem. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter

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 fee thee again.

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, Thou shalt be welcome.

I had rather be a Beggar's Dog

Than Apemantus.

Apem. Thou art the Cap

Of all the Fools alive,

Tim. Would thou wert clean enough

To fpit upon.

Apem. A Plague on thee..

Thou art too bad to Curfe.

Tim. All Villains

That

That do ftand by thee, are pure.
Apem. There is no Leprofie
But what thou speak'st.

Tim. If I name thee, I'll beat thee;
But I fhould infe& my Hands.

Apem. I would my Tongue

Could rot them off.

Tim. Away thou iffue of a mangy Dog!
Choler does kill me, that thou art alive;
I fwound to see thee.

Apem. Would thou wouldst burit.

Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am forry I fhall lofe

a Stone by thee.

Apem. Beaft! Tim. Slave! Apem. Toad!

Tim. Rogue! Rogue! Rogue!

I am fick of this falfe World, and will love nought
But even the meer neceffities upon't:

Then Timon prefently prepare thy Grave;
Lye where the Light Foam of the Sea may beat
Thy Grave-ftone daily; make thine Epitaph,
That Death in me, as others Lives may laugh.
O thou sweet King-Killer, and dear Divorce
Twixt natural Son and Sire; thou bright defiler
Of Hymens pureft Bed, thou valiant Mars,
Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer,
Whose Blush doth thaw the confecrated Snow,
That lies on Dian's Lap. Thou visible God,
That fouldreft clofe Impoffibilities,

And mak'It them kifs; that fpeak'ft with every Tongue
To every purpofe; O thou touch of Hearts,
Think thy flave Man Rebels, and by thy Virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that Beafts
May have the World in Empire.

Apem. Would 'twere fo,

But not till I am dead. I'll fay th’haft Gold;
Thou wilt be throng'd too fhortly.

Tim. Throng'd too?

Apem

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Thy Back, I prithee.

Apem. Live, and love thy Mifery.

Tim. Long live fo, and so die. I am quit.
Apem. Mo things like Men

Ear, Timon, and abhor them.

Enter the Banditti.

[Exit Apeman.

1 Band. Where should he have this Gold? It is fome poor Fragment, fome flender Ort of his Remainder: The meer want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friends, drove him into this Melancholy.

2 Band. It is nois'd

He hath a Mass of Treafure.

3 Band. Let us make the affay upon him, if he care not for't, he will fupply us cafily: If he covetoufly referve it, how fhall's get it?

2 Band. True; for he bears it not about him: 'Tis hid.

I Band. Is not this he?

All. Where?

2 Band. 'Tis his Description,
3 Band. He; I know him.
All. Save thee, Timon.
Tim. Now Thieves.

All. Soldiers, not Thieves.

Tim. Both too, and Womens Sons.

All. We are not Thieves, but Men

That much do want.

Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of Meat: Why fhould you want? Behold, the Earth hath Roots; Within this Mile break forth an hundred Springs; The Oaks bear Maft, the Briers Scarlet Hips, The bounteous Hufwife Nature, on each Bush, Lays her full Mefs before you. Want? why want? 1 Band. We cannot live on Grafs, on Berries, Water, As Beafts, and Birds, and Fishes.

Tim. Nor on the Beafts themselves, the Birds and Fishes, You must eat Men. Yet thanks I must you con, That you are Thieves profeft; that you work not In holier Shapes; for there is boundless Theft

In