Er. Will you upon your Word?
Gas. Yes, upon my Word: You have no other Way for it but to bank your Bowl so as to make it rebound on mine.
Er. I'll try: Well, what say you now Friend? Are not you beaten away? (Have I not struck you away?)
Gas. I am, I confess it; I wish you were but as wise as you are lucky; you can scarce do so once in a hundred Times.
Er. I'll lay you, if you will, that I do it once in three Times. But come pay me what I have won.
Gas. What's that?
Er. Why, a Distich.
Gas. Well, I'll pay it now.
Er. And an extempore one too. Why do you bite your Nails?
Gas. I have it.