1 Hunt. Oh horrible!
Clown. He has two stones so bigge, let me see (a Poxe), thy head is but a Cherry-stone to the least of' em.
2 Hunt. How long are his Tuskes?
Clown. Each of them as crooked and as long as a Mowers sith.
1 Hunt. There's a Cutter.
Clown. And when he whets his Tuskes you would sweare there were a sea in's belly, and that his chops were the shore to which the Foame was beaten: if his Foame were frothy Yest 'twere worth tenne groats a paile for Bakers.
1 Hunt. What will the King do with him if he kill him?
Clown. Bake him, and if they put him in one Pasty a new Oven must be made, with a mouth as wide as the gates of the City. (Horne.)
Omnes. There boy, there boy.
Hornes and Noise within: Enter Antony meeting Damianus.