Till you Pain. The gods preserve ye! hear further from me. Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Jer. What, my lord! dispraise? Tim. A mere satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd, Jew. My lord, 'tis rated know, 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. He'll spare none. Mer. row; 168. To "unclew" a man is to draw out the whole mass of his fortune. To unclew is to unwind a ball of thread.-H. N. H. 170-171. "Things of like value masters"; are rated according to the esteem in which their possessor is held.-H. N. H. 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? 181 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 Timon. Tim. Whither art going? 190 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, if I be a dog? Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? Apem. No; I eat not lords. 200 Tim. An thou should'st, thou 'ldst anger ladies. Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great 210 bellies. Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension. Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy labor. 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, 220 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 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 labor: 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? 230 Apem. Aye. Tim. Wherefore? 240 Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. 241. "That I had no angry wit to be a lord"; Blackstone conj. Art not thou a merchant? Mer. Aye, 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, 250 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 "Angry that I had no wit,—to be a lord"; Malone conj. "That I had etc., etc.-I. G. We retain this vexatious line just as it stands in the original, though, we confess, unable to make any sense out of it. That the line is corrupt, all are agreed; but no two agree how to correct it. Divers changes have been proposed. Perhaps the best of all is that made by an unknown hand in a copy of the second folio owned by Mr. Singer, "That I had an empty wit to be a lord"; the sense in this case being rendered something clearer thus,—“That, to be a lord, I had an empty wit"; not unlike the slang phrase which we have sometimes heard,-"As silly as a duke." It may be well to remark that Apemantus is giving the reason why he should hate himself, if he were a lord; and nothing were more characteristic than for him to assign as his reason, that, in order to be a lord, he must needs have been born a dunce. However, the sense seems hardly clear enough to warrant the change.-H. N. H. Enter Alcibiades, with the rest. Most welcome, sir! Apem. 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. Alicb. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight. Tim. Right welcome, sir! Enter two Lords. First Lord. What time o' day is 't, Apemantus? First Lord. That time serves still. Apem. The most accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. Sec. Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? 270 Apem. Aye, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. Sec. Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well. Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for 269. Ritson says we should read, “The more accursed thou.”— H. N. H. |