Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable. Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge. Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded, The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords, To such as may the passiue drugges of it Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd The Icie precepts of respect, but followed The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe, Who had the world as my Confectionarie, The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men, At duty more then I could frame employment; That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare, For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this, That neuer knew but better, is some burthen: Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st y hate Men? They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen? If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge) Must be thy subiect; who in spight put stuffe To some shee-Begger, and compounded thee Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone, If thou hadst not bene borne the worst of men, Thou hadst bene a Knaue and Flatterer Ape. Art thou proud yet? Tim. I, that I am not thee Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall Tim. I, that I am one now. Were all the wealth I haue shut vp in thee, I'ld giue thee leaue to hang it. Get thee gone: That the whole life of Athens were in this, Thus would I eate it Ape. Heere, I will mend thy Feast Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy selfe Ape. So I shall mend mine owne, by'th' lacke of thine Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht; If not, I would it were Ape. What would'st thou haue to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt, Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue Ape. Heere is no vse for Gold Tim. The best, and truest: For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme Ape. Where lyest a nights Timon? Tim. Vnder that's aboue me. Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus? Ape. Where my stomacke findes meate, or rather where I eate it Tim. Would poyson were obedient, & knew my mind Ape. Where would'st thou send it? Tim. To sawce thy dishes Ape. The middle of Humanity thou neuer knewest, but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much Curiositie: in thy Ragges thou know'st none, but art despis'd for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it Tim. On what I hate, I feed not Ape. Do'st hate a Medler? Tim. I, though it looke like thee Ape. And th'hadst hated Medlers sooner, y should'st haue loued thy selfe better now. What man didd'st thou euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes! Tim. Who without those meanes thou talk'st of, didst thou euer know belou'd? Ape. My selfe