halter; many a cask of my wine has he made a beast of himself over. I
congratulate him on his speed; first come, first served.

_Gna_. What did I tell them?--Timon was too good a man to be abandoned
by Providence. How are you, Timon? as good-looking and good-tempered,
as good a fellow, as ever?

_Tim_. And you, Gnathonides, still teaching vultures rapacity, and men
cunning?

_Gna_. Ah, he always liked his little joke. But where do you dine? I
have brought a new song with me, a march out of the last musical thing
on.

_Tim_. It will be a funeral march, then, and a very touching one, with
spade _obbligato_.

_Gna_. What means this? This is assault, Timon; just let me find a
witness! ... Oh, my God, my God! ... I'll have you before the
Areopagus for assault and battery.

_Tim_. You'd better not wait much longer, or you'll have to make it
murder.

_Gna_. Mercy, mercy! ... Now, a little gold ointment to heal the
wound; it is a first-rate styptic.

_Tim_. What! you _won't_ go, won't you?

_Gna_. Oh, I am going. But you shall repent this. Alas, so genial