Sladder: How are your white mice, child?
Ermyntrude: Quite well, father, both of them.
Sladder (draws a box from his pocket, takes out a little bit of cheese): Give them that, Ermyntrude.
Ermyntrude: That, father. What is it?
Sladder: Cheese.
Ermyntrude: May I have a bit?
Sladder: No, don't touch it!
Ermyntrude: Very well, father.
Sladder: If they eat it, you shall have——
Ermyntrude: What, father?