VENTIDIUS. Most honoured Timon, It hath pleas'd the gods to remember my father's age, And call him to long peace. He is gone happy, and has left me rich. Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound To your free heart, I do return those talents, Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help I deriv'd liberty. TIMON. O, by no means, Honest Ventidius! You mistake my love; I gave it freely ever; and there's none Can truly say he gives, if he receives. If our betters play at that game, we must not dare To imitate them: faults that are rich are fair. VENTIDIUS. A noble spirit! TIMON. Nay, my lords, ceremony was but devis'd at first To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; But where there is true friendship there needs none. Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes 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, th'art a churl; ye have 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't 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. Th'art 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 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.