Everyman: Behold Ethobald, I have captured a dire moose !
Ethobald: Gadzooks, what a feast it shall make !
Everyman: Nay nay on the feasting, we shall make many guilders from this moose.
Ethobald: How so?
Everyman: We'll take it to the Faire, confine it to the stadium, and make wagers on how close does it take a shat to the King's booth. with the winnings, we can buy many feasts.
Perchance in a fortnight or two, Everyman shall awaken from his swoon, and relay to us good folk what conversation has transpired between himself and ye duchess...