Gonza. Therefore, my lord,—
Anto. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I pr’ythee, spare me.
Gonza. Well, I have done: but yet—
Sebas. He will be talking.
Anto. Which, of he or Adrian,[395-5] for a good wager, first begins to crow?
Sebas. The old cock.[395-6]
Anto. The cockerel.
Sebas. Done! The wager?
Anto. A laughter.