draining this Lethe-draught he proceeds to turn his morning maxima
inside out; he swoops like a hawk on dainty dishes, elbows his
neighbour aside, fouls his beard with trickling sauce, laps like a
dog, with his nose in his plate, as if he expected to find Virtue
there, and runs his finger all round the bowl, not to lose a drop of
the gravy. Let him monopolize pastry or joint, he will still criticize
the carving--that is all the satisfaction his ravenous greed brings
him--; when the wine is in, singing and dancing are delights not
fierce enough; he must brawl and rave. He has plenty to say in his
cups--he is then at his best in that kind--upon temperance and
decorum; he is full of these when his potations have reduced him to
ridiculous stuttering. Next the wine disagrees with him, and at last
he is carried out of the room, holding on with all his might to the
flute-girl. Take him sober, for that matter, and you will hardly find
his match at lying, effrontery or avarice. He is _facile princeps_ of
flatterers, perjury sits on his tongue-tip, imposture goes before him,
and shamelessness is his good comrade; oh, he is a most ingenious
piece of work, finished at all points, a _multum in parvo_. I am
afraid his kind heart will be grieved presently. Why, how is this,
Thrasycles? I must say, you have taken your time about coming.

_Thr_. Ah, Timon, I am not come like the rest of the crowd; _they_ are
dazzled by your wealth; they are gathered together with an eye to gold
and silver and high living; they will soon be showing their servile
tricks before your unsuspicious, generous self. As for me, you know a
crust is all the dinner I care for; the relish I like best is a bit of
thyme or cress; on festal days I may go as far as a sprinkling of
salt. My drink is the crystal spring; and this threadbare cloak is
better than your gay robes. Gold--I value it no higher than pebbles on
the beach. What brought _me_ was concern for you; I would not have you