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Poet. That's not feigned, he is fo.
Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour. He that loves to be flattered, is worthy o'th' flatterer. Heavens, that I were a Lord !
Tiin. What would't do then, Apemaneus ?
Apem. Even as Apemantus does now, hace a Lord with my heart.
Tim. What, thyself?
Nier. Ay, Apemantus.
Apem. Traffic's thy god, and thy god confound thee !
Trampets found. Enter a Messenger. · Tim. What truinpet's that?
Nief. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse All of companionthip. on
Tim. Pray, entertain them, give them guide to us. You inult needs dine with me: you go not hence 'Till have thanked you; and when dinner's done, Shew me this piece. I'm joyful of your fights.
(5) That I had mo angry wit to be a Lord,? This reading is abfurd and unintelligible. Bus as I have restored the text, it is satirical enough of all conscience, and to the purpose, viz. I would hate myfelf, for having no more wit than 10 covet so insignificant a title. In the same sense Shakespeare uses lean-witted, in his Richard II.
od thou a lupacis, kean-witted fool. Mr Worku. 108.