lyimo/shakespear · Datasets at Hugging Face

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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.
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' th' mire.
This and my food are equals; there's no odds.'
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

APEMANTUS' Grace

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. My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
TIMON. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than dinner of
friends.
ALCIBIADES. So they were bleeding new, my lord, there's no meat
like 'em; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.
APEMANTUS. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that
then thou mightst kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.
FIRST LORD. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you
would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of
our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.
TIMON. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have
provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been
my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from
thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told
more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own
behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think I, what
need we have any friends if we should ne'er have need of 'em?
They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er
have use for 'em; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung
up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have
often wish'd myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call
our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious
comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers commanding one
another's fortunes! O, joy's e'en made away ere't can be born!
Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their
faults, I drink to you.
APEMANTUS. Thou weep'st to make them drink, Timon.
SECOND LORD. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,
And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
APEMANTUS. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
THIRD LORD. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me much.
APEMANTUS. Much! [Sound tucket]
TIMON. What means that trump?

Enter a SERVANT

How now?
SERVANT. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most
desirous of admittance.
TIMON. Ladies! What are their wills?
SERVANT. There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears
that office to signify their pleasures.
TIMON. I pray let them be admitted.

Enter CUPID
CUPID. Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
That of his bounties taste! The five best Senses
Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely
To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th' Ear,
Taste, Touch, Smell, pleas'd from thy table rise;
They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
TIMON. They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance.
Music, make their welcome. Exit CUPID
FIRST LORD. You see, my lord, how ample y'are belov'd.

Music. Re-enter CUPID, witb a Masque of LADIES as Amazons,
with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing

APEMANTUS. Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
They dance? They are mad women.
Like madness is the glory of this life,
As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.
Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves
Of their friends' gift?

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.

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' th' mire.

This and my food are equals; there's no odds.'

Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

APEMANTUS' Grace

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. My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

TIMON. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than dinner of

friends.

ALCIBIADES. So they were bleeding new, my lord, there's no meat

like 'em; I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

APEMANTUS. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies then, that

then thou mightst kill 'em, and bid me to 'em.

FIRST LORD. Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you

would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of

our zeals, we should think ourselves for ever perfect.

TIMON. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have

provided that I shall have much help from you. How had you been

my friends else? Why have you that charitable title from

thousands, did not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told

more of you to myself than you can with modesty speak in your own

behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think I, what

need we have any friends if we should ne'er have need of 'em?

They were the most needless creatures living, should we ne'er

have use for 'em; and would most resemble sweet instruments hung

up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have

often wish'd myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We

are born to do benefits; and what better or properer can we call

our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious

comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers commanding one

another's fortunes! O, joy's e'en made away ere't can be born!

Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks. To forget their

faults, I drink to you.

APEMANTUS. Thou weep'st to make them drink, Timon.

SECOND LORD. Joy had the like conception in our eyes,

And at that instant like a babe sprung up.

APEMANTUS. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

THIRD LORD. I promise you, my lord, you mov'd me much.

APEMANTUS. Much! [Sound tucket]

TIMON. What means that trump?

Enter a SERVANT

How now?

SERVANT. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most

desirous of admittance.

TIMON. Ladies! What are their wills?

SERVANT. There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears

that office to signify their pleasures.

TIMON. I pray let them be admitted.

Enter CUPID

CUPID. Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all

That of his bounties taste! The five best Senses

Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely

To gratulate thy plenteous bosom. Th' Ear,

Taste, Touch, Smell, pleas'd from thy table rise;

They only now come but to feast thine eyes.

TIMON. They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance.

Music, make their welcome. Exit CUPID

FIRST LORD. You see, my lord, how ample y'are belov'd.

Music. Re-enter CUPID, witb a Masque of LADIES as Amazons,

with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing

APEMANTUS. Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!

They dance? They are mad women.

Like madness is the glory of this life,

As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves,

And spend our flatteries to drink those men

Upon whose age we void it up again

With poisonous spite and envy.

Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?

Who dies that bears not one spurn to their graves

Of their friends' gift?