Tit. Oh heere's Seruilius: now wee shall know some answere
Seru. If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayre some other houre, I should deriue much from't. For tak't of my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent: His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much out of health, and keepes his Chamber
Luci. Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke:
And if it be so farre beyond his health,
Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a cleere way to the Gods
Seruil. Good Gods
Titus. We cannot take this for answer, sir
Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.
Enter Timon in a rage.
Tim. What, are my dores oppos'd against my passage?
Haue I bin euer free, and must my house
Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?
The place which I haue Feasted, does it now
(Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart?
Luci. Put in now Titus
Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill
Luci. Here's mine
1.Var. And mine, my Lord