TIMON.
Five thousand drops pays that. What yours, and yours?
FIRST VARRO’S SERVANT.
My lord—
SECOND VARRO’S SERVANT.
My lord—
TIMON.
Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you!
[Exit.]
HORTENSIUS.
Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps at their money. These debts may well be called desperate ones, for a madman owes ’em.
[Exeunt.]
Enter Timon and Flavius.
TIMON.
They have e’en put my breath from me, the slaves.
Creditors? Devils!
FLAVIUS.
My dear lord—