Second Lord

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, thou ’rt a churl. You’ve got a humor there
Does not become a man. ’Tis much to blame.—
They say, my lords, Ira furor brevis est,
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Cloten
And that she should love this fellow and
refuse me!
Second Lord, aside
If it be a sin to make a true election,
she is damned.

She shines not upon fools, lest
the reflection should hurt her.

First Lord
Sir, as I told you always,
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First Lord
Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast.
Second Lord
And keep your mind till you return to us
Peaceful and comfortable.

’Tis time to fear when tyrants seems to kiss;

Helicanus
Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
They do abuse the King that flatter him,
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
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Cloten
Was there ever man had such luck? When I
kissed the jack, upon an upcast to be hit away? I
had a hundred pound on ’t. And then a whoreson
jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I
borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend
them at my pleasure.

That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass!
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Cloten
I would this music would come. I am advised
to give her music a-mornings; they say it will
penetrate.

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes.
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise,

 Enter Musicians.
Come on,
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Parolles
I know not what the success will be, my
lord, but the attempt I vow.
Bertram
I know thou ‘rt valiant, and to the possibility
of thy soldiership will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

I love not many words.

Parolles
I love not many words. He exits.
First Lord
No more than a fish loves water.
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Jaques
Which is he that killed the deer?
First Lord
Sir, it was I.

What shall he have that killed the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.

Jaques, to the other Lords
Let’s present him to the
Duke like a Roman conqueror. And it would do well
to set the deer’s horns upon his head for a branch of
victory.—Have you no song,
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Jaques
Which is he that killed the deer?
First Lord
Sir, it was I.
Jaques, to the other Lords
Let’s present him to the
Duke like a Roman conqueror. And it would do well
to set the deer’s horns upon his head for a branch of
victory.—Have you no song,
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First Lord
Sir, his wife some two months since fled
from his house. Her pretense is a pilgrimage to
Saint Jaques le Grand, which holy undertaking
with most austere sanctimony she accomplished.
And, there residing, the tenderness of her nature
became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan
of her last breath,
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