2d Sen.
And late, five thousand: to Varro and Isidore
He owes nine thousand, besides my former sum;
Which makes it five and twenty.—Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not.
If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
And give it Timon, why the dog coins gold,
If I would sell my horse, and buy ten more
Better than he; why, give my horse to Timon;
Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me strait
Ten able horse. No porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles, and still invites
All that pass by it. It cannot hold; no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis, hoa!
Caphis, I say. Enter Caphis.

Caph.
Here, Sir, what is your pleasure?

2d Sen.
Get on your cloak, and haste you to lord Timon:
Importune him for monies, be not ceast
With slight denial; nor then silenc'd with
“Commend me to your master”—and the cap
Plays me in the hand, thus:—But tell him, sirrah,
My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
Out of mine own; his days and times are past,
And my reliance on his fracted dates
Has smit my credit. Get you gone;
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand. Get you gone.

Caph.
I go, Sir.

2d Sen.
Aye go, Sir.—Take the bonds along with you,
And have the dates in compt. [Exeunt.

Next section