Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Sen. Which makes it fiue and twenty. Still in motion
Sen. Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not.
Sen. If I want Gold, steale but a beggers Dogge,
Sen. And giue it Timon, why the Dogge coines Gold.
Sen. If I would sell my Horse, and buy twenty moe
Sen. Better then he; why giue my Horse to Timon.
Sen. Aske nothing, giue it him, it Foles me straight
Sen. And able Horses: No Porter at his gate,
Sen. But rather one that smiles, and still inuites
Sen. All that passe by. It cannot hold, no reason
Sen. Can sound his state in safety. Caphis hoa,
Sen. Caphis I say.
Sen. Enter Caphis.
Ca. Ca.
Ca. Heere sir, what is your pleasure.
Sen. Sen.
Sen. Get on your cloake, & hast you to Lord Timon,
Sen. Importune him for my Moneyes, be not ceast
Sen. With slight deniall; nor then silenc'd, when
Sen. Commend me to your Master, and the Cap