dich

Flow this way ? A brave fellow .
He keeps his tides well . Those healths will make
thee and thy state look ill , Timon .
Here’s that which is too weak to be a sinner ,
Honest water , which ne’er left man i’ th’ mire .
This and my food are equals . There’s no odds .
Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods .

Apemantus’ grace .

Immortal gods , I crave no pelf .
I pray for no man but myself .
Grant I may never prove so fond
To trust man on his oath or bond ,
Or a harlot for her weeping ,
Or a dog that seems a-sleeping ,
Or a keeper with my freedom ,
Or my friends if I should need ’em .
Amen . So fall to ’t .
Rich men sin , and I eat root .

Much good dich thy good heart , Apemantus !