The Life of Timon of Athens

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Уильям Шекспир

Жанр

Европейская старинная литература

Год написания книги

2017

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Than my fortunes to me.

[They sit.]

FIRST LORD

My lord, we always have confess'd it.

APEMANTUS

Ho, ho! confess'd it; hang'd it, have you not?

TIMON

O! Apemantus, you are welcome.

APEMANTUS

No,
You shall not make me welcome:
I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

TIMON

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 it, 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.

APEMANTUS

I scorn thy meat; 't'would choke me, for I should
Ne'er flatter thee. O you gods! what a number
Of men eats 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 prov'd.
If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;
Lest they should spy my wind-pipe's dangerous notes:
Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

TIMON

My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

SECOND LORD

Let it flow this way, my good lord.

APEMANTUS

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 man but myself.
Grant I may never prove so fond
To trust man on his oath or bond;
Or a harlot for her weeping;
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping;
Or a keeper with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall to't.
Rich men sin, and I eat root.

[Eats and drinks.]

Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

TIMON

Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

ALCIBIADES