APEMANTUS.
That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant?
MERCHANT.
Ay, Apemantus.
APEMANTUS.
Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not.
MERCHANT.
If traffic do it, the gods do it.
APEMANTUS.
Traffic’s thy god, and thy god confound thee!
Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.
TIMON.
What trumpet’s that?
MESSENGER.
’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
All of companionship.
TIMON.
Pray entertain them, give them guide to us.
[Exeunt some Attendants.]