A Senator’s house.
[Enter Senator, with
papers in his hand]
Senator Cloak, haste you to Lord Timon;
Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
With slight denial, nor then silenced when–
‘Commend me to your master’–and the cap
Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,
But must not break my back to heal his finger;
Immediate are my needs, and my relief
Must not be toss’d and turn’d to me in words,
But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
When every feather sticks in his own wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
CAPHIS I go, sir.
Senator ‘I go, sir!’–Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in contempt.
CAPHIS I will, sir.
Senator Go.
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