THIRD LORD.
I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
APEMANTUS.
Much!
[A tucket sounds.]
TIMON.
What means that trump?
Enter a Servant.
How now?
SERVANT.
Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most desirous of admittance.
TIMON.
Ladies? What are their wills?
SERVANT.
There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which bears that office, to signify their pleasures.
TIMON.
I pray, let them be admitted.