Simon: Let me go out from you tempting me.
Damer: (Seizing him.) Heads! I say heads!
Simon: Harps it is. I win.
Damer: My bitter grief! Ochone!
Simon: I'll toss you for another.
Damer: You will not. What's tosses? Look at here what is put in my way! (Holds up pack of cards.)
Simon: Where's the stakes?
Damer: Wait a second. (Goes into room.)
Simon: Hurry on or I won't stop.
Damer: Let you not stir out of that!
(Comes back and throws money on table.)