APEMANTUS.
Faith, for the worst is filthy and would not hold taking, I doubt me.
TIMON.
Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
Please you to dispose yourselves.
ALL LADIES.
Most thankfully, my lord.
[Exeunt Cupid and Ladies.]
TIMON.
Flavius!
FLAVIUS.
My lord?
TIMON.
The little casket bring me hither.
FLAVIUS.
Yes, my lord. [Aside.] More jewels yet?
There is no crossing him in ’s humour;
Else I should tell him well, i’ faith, I should,
When all’s spent, he’d be crossed then, an he could.
’Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
That man might ne’er be wretched for his mind.
[Exit.]
FIRST LORD.
Where be our men?