Mother. It grieves me sorely to hear that (me perditam et miserrimam)! What do you say? In what part of the head?
Boy. In the forehead.
Mother. For how long?
Boy. Scarcely the eighth of an hour. Afterwards I fell asleep again, nor did I feel anything further of it.
Mother. Now I breathe again; for you took away my breath.
II. Playing with the Dog
Boy. All good to you! Little Isabel, prepare my breakfast. Ruscio, Ruscio, come here, jolly little dog! See how he fawns with his tail and how he raises himself on his hind legs. What are you doing? How are you? Hullo, you, bring a bit or two of bread which we may give him, then you will see some clever sport. Won’t you eat? Haven’t you had anything to-day? Clearly there is more intelligence in that dog than in that crass mule-driver.
III. The Father’s Little Talk with his Boy
Father. My Tulliolus, I should like to have a talk with you soon.
Boy. Why, my father? For nothing more delightful could happen to me than to listen to you.