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