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O you gods, what a number of men eats Timon, and he sees ‘em not! It grieves me to see so many dip their meat in one man’s blood; and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
Methinks they should invite them without knives.
Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. (1.2.37–43)
Apemantus speaks these mixed lines of prose and verse as guests are gathering for Timon’s first banquet. By this point, we in the audience are already aware that Apemantus is a cynic who’s quick to judge others for their selfish intentions. Here, his cynicism is again on display, as he likens the dinner guests to cannibals who have come to devour Timon. Yet however disturbing this image of the guests dipping their meat in Timon’s blood may be, it’s also significant for the way it shows concern for Timon’s well-being. Apemantus’s cynicism seems to have a protective intention that goes some way toward redeeming his grouchiness.
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. (1.2.60–68)
Just as Timon’s first banquet is about to begin, Apemantus takes a moment to utter a prayer of his own, which the stage directions label as “Apemantus’ Grace.” Although framed as a blessing, this series of rhyming couplets might be better characterized as a cynic’s credo that expresses the man’s foundational selfishness. Whereas we might expect a prayer spoken before a meal to extend both to the food and to all those present, Apemantus stresses that this blessing is for himself alone. Essentially, he prays for the strength required to maintain self-sufficiency, such that he never has occasion to get attached to other people. Most of all, he longs to avoid any need to count on others.
This is in thee a nature but infected,
A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
From change of future. Why this spade? this place?
This slavelike habit and these looks of care?
Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft,
Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
That ever Timon was. (4.3.203–208)
Apemantus addresses these words to Timon upon finding him near his cave in the woods. There is a tone of concern in these lines, suggesting that Apemantus is dismayed to find Timon so thoroughly transformed into a misanthrope. On the one hand, Apemantus may feel delighted that Timon now has a cynical outlook that’s closer to his own. But on the other hand, he also senses the injustice in how Timon has been laid so low. Timon is not naturally cynical, so his current state appears to be “infected” with a “poor unmanly melancholy.” Moreover, it’s despicable that Timon should be living in such a “slavelike habit” when his hypocritical “flatterers” continue to luxuriate in extravagance. Ultimately, this scene, though his last in the play, demonstrates that Apemantus really does care about Timon.
