Speeches (Lines) for Apemantus
in "Timon of Athens"

Total: 100

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# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

I,1,222

Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

2

I,1,225

Are they not Athenians?

3

I,1,227

Then I repent not.

4

I,1,229

Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name.

5

I,1,231

Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

6

I,1,233

To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

7

I,1,235

Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

8

I,1,237

The best, for the innocence.

9

I,1,239

He wrought better that made the painter; and yet
he's but a filthy piece of work.

10

I,1,242

Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

11

I,1,244

No; I eat not lords.

12

I,1,246

O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

13

I,1,248

So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

14

I,1,250

Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a
man a doit.

15

I,1,253

Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

16

I,1,255

Thou liest.

17

I,1,257

Yes.

18

I,1,259

Art not a poet?

19

I,1,261

Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou
hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

20

I,1,264

Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o'
the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

21

I,1,268

E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.

22

I,1,270

Ay.

23

I,1,272

That I had no angry wit to be a lord.
Art not thou a merchant?

24

I,1,275

Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

25

I,1,277

Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!

26

I,1,289

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.

27

I,1,303

Time to be honest.

28

I,1,305

The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.

29

I,1,307

Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

30

I,1,309

Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

31

I,1,311

Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to
give thee none.

32

I,1,314

No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy
requests to thy friend.

33

I,1,317

I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.

34

I,2,362

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

35

I,2,364

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

36

I,2,373

Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to
observe; I give thee warning on't.

37

I,2,378

I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should
ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of
men eat 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.

38

I,2,395

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.
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!

39

I,2,420

Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then,
that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em!

40

I,2,447

Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.

41

I,2,450

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

42

I,2,452

Much!

43

I,2,477

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?
I should fear those that dance before me now
Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
[The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of]
TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an
Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty
strain or two to the hautboys, and cease]

44

I,2,502

'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold
taking, I doubt me.

45

I,2,602

What a coil's here!
Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,
Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.

46

I,2,610

No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,
there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,
Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in
paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and
vain-glories?

47

I,2,620

So:
Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
O, that men's ears should be
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

48

II,2,735

Dost dialogue with thy shadow?

49

II,2,737

No,'tis to thyself.
[To the Fool]
Come away.

50

II,2,741

No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet.

51

II,2,743

He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and
usurers' men! bawds between gold and want!

52

II,2,746

Asses.

53

II,2,748

That you ask me what you are, and do not know
yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.

54

II,2,754

Good! gramercy.

55

II,2,759

Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer
thee profitably.

56

II,2,763

Canst not read?

57

II,2,765

There will little learning die then, that day thou
art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to
Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't
die a bawd.

58

II,2,772

E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with
you to Lord Timon's.

59

II,2,775

If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?

60

II,2,777

So would I,—as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.

61

II,2,786

Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster
and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be
no less esteemed.

62

II,2,800

That answer might have become Apemantus.

63

II,2,803

Come with me, fool, come.

64

IV,3,1886

I was directed hither: men report
Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

65

IV,3,1890

This is in thee a nature but infected;
A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
By putting on the cunning of a carper.
Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
And call it excellent: thou wast told thus;
Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome
To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just
That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,
Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness.

66

IV,3,1908

Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,
That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
And skip where thou point'st out? will the
cold brook,
Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
Whose naked natures live in an the spite
Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
To the conflicting elements exposed,
Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
O, thou shalt find—

67

IV,3,1923

I love thee better now than e'er I did.

68

IV,3,1925

Why?

69

IV,3,1927

I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.

70

IV,3,1929

To vex thee.

71

IV,3,1932

Ay.

72

IV,3,1934

If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again,
Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, never complete;
The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse than the worst, content.
Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

73

IV,3,1972

Art thou proud yet?

74

IV,3,1974

I, that I was
No prodigal.

75

IV,3,1982

Here; I will mend thy feast.

76

IV,3,1985

So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

77

IV,3,1988

What wouldst thou have to Athens?

78

IV,3,1991

Here is no use for gold.

79

IV,3,1994

Where liest o' nights, Timon?

80

IV,3,1997

Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat
it.

81

IV,3,2000

Where wouldst thou send it?

82

IV,3,2002

The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt
and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much
curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art
despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for
thee, eat it.

83

IV,3,2009

Dost hate a medlar?

84

IV,3,2011

An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst
have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou
ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

85

IV,3,2016

Myself.

86

IV,3,2019

What things in the world canst thou nearest compare
to thy flatterers?

87

IV,3,2024

Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

88

IV,3,2027

Ay, Timon.

89

IV,3,2049

If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of
Athens is become a forest of beasts.

90

IV,3,2053

Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of
company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it
and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll
see thee again.

91

IV,3,2059

Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

92

IV,3,2061

A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.

93

IV,3,2063

There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

94

IV,3,2066

I would my tongue could rot them off!

95

IV,3,2070

Would thou wouldst burst!

96

IV,3,2075

Beast!

97

IV,3,2077

Toad!

98

IV,3,2099

Would 'twere so!
But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

99

IV,3,2103

Ay.

100

IV,3,2105

Live, and love thy misery.

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