THE LIFE OF TIMON OF ATHENS
Page: 39

Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,

[Digging.]

Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
Hath to the marbled mansion all above
Never presented! O! a root; dear thanks:
Dry up thy marrows, vines and plough-torn leas;
Whereof ingrateful man, with liquorish draughts
And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
That from it all consideration slips!

[Enter APEMANTUS.]

More man! Plague! plague!

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

TIMON.
'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog
Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

APEMANTUS.
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 diseas'd 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 gav'st thine ears, like tapsters that bade 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.

TIMON.
Were I like thee I'd throw away myself.

APEMANTUS.
Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
A madman so long, now a fool. What! think'st