my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true,
Ile call to you

All Lor. O none so welcome

Tim. I take all, and your seuerall visitations
So kinde to heart, 'tis not enough to giue:
Me thinkes, I could deale Kingdomes to my Friends,
And nere be wearie. Alcibiades,
Thou art a Soldiour, therefore sildome rich,
It comes in Charitie to thee: for all thy liuing
Is mong'st the dead: and all the Lands thou hast
Lye in a pitcht field

Alc. I, defil'd Land, my Lord

1.Lord. We are so vertuously bound

Tim. And so am I to you

2.Lord. So infinitely endeer'd

Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights

1.Lord. The best of Happines, Honor, and Fortunes
Keepe with you Lord Timon

Tim. Ready for his Friends.

Exeunt. Lords