SEMPRONIUS. How? Have they denied him? Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him And does he send to me? Three? Humh! It shows but little love or judgment in him. Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, Thrive, give him over. Must I take th’ cure upon me? Has much disgraced me in’t. I’m angry at him, That might have known my place. I see no sense for’t But his occasions might have wooed me first; For, in my conscience, I was the first man That e’er received gift from him. And does he think so backwardly of me now That I’ll requite it last? No. So it may prove an argument of laughter To th’ rest, and I ’mongst lords be thought a fool. I’d rather than the worth of thrice the sum Had sent to me first, but for my mind’s sake; I’d such a courage to do him good. But now return, And with their faint reply this answer join: Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. [_Exit._] SERVANT. Excellent! Your lordship’s a goodly villain. The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic; he crossed himself by’t, and I cannot think but, in the end the villainies of man will set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to appear foul! Takes virtuous copies to be wicked, like those that under hot ardent zeal would set whole realms on fire. Of such a nature is his politic love. This was my lord’s best hope, now all are fled Save only the gods. Now his friends are dead, Doors that were ne’er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year must be employed Now to guard sure their master. And this is all a liberal course allows, Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. [_Exit._] SCENE IV. A hall in Timon’s house Enter two of Varro’s Servants meeting Titus and Hortensius and then Lucius, all Servants of Timon’s creditors, to wait for his coming out. FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT. Well met, good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. TITUS. The like to you, kind Varro. HORTENSIUS. Lucius! What, do we meet together? LUCIUS. Ay, and I think One business does command us all; For mine is money. TITUS. So is theirs and ours. Enter Philotus. LUCIUS. And, sir, Philotus too! PHILOTUS. Good day at once. LUCIUS. Welcome, good brother. What do you think the hour? PHILOTUS. Labouring for nine. LUCIUS. So much? PHILOTUS. Is not my lord seen yet? LUCIUS. Not yet. PHILOTUS. I wonder on’t, he was wont to shine at seven. LUCIUS. Ay, but the days are waxed shorter with him. You must consider that a prodigal course Is like the sun’s, but not like his recoverable. I fear ’tis deepest winter in Lord Timon’s purse: That is, one may reach deep enough, and yet Find little. PHILOTUS. I am of your fear for that. TITUS. I’ll show you how t’ observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money? HORTENSIUS. Most true, he does. TITUS. And he wears jewels now of Timon’s gift, For which I wait for money. HORTENSIUS. It is against my heart.