Bacha. My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many years.
Leon. Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.
Tima. Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere look it there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not burnt.
Leon. I will kiss thee, I am a fire Timantus.
Tima. Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before you?
Leon. Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do.
Bacha. I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make a mirth out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will not let ye, the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll let you play a while.
Leon. Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely, how many foot did I Jump yesterday Timantus?
Tim. Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.