Senator monologue (Act 2) — Timon of Athens

Get on your cloak and haste you to Lord Timon. Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased With slight denial, nor then silenced when “Commend me to your master”, and the cap Plays in the right hand, thus; but tell him, My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn Out of mine own, his days and times are past, And my reliances on his fracted dates Have smit my credit. I love and honour him, But must not break my back to heal his finger. Immediate are my needs, and my relief Must not be tossed and turned to me in words, But find supply immediate. Get you gone. Put on a most importunate aspect, A visage of demand, for I do fear When every feather sticks in his own wing, Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.