MASC. One's own flesh and blood never forget the image of one's
relations; this likeness is imprinted so deeply, that my father...

TRUF. Hold your tongue. Where was it you left him?

LEL. In Turkey, at Turin.

TRUF. Turin! but I thought that town was in Piedmont.

MASC. (_Aside_). Oh the dunce! (_To Trufaldin_). You do not
understand him; he means Tunis; it was in reality there he left your
son; but the Armenians always have a certain vicious pronunciation,
which seems very harsh to us; the reason of it is because in all their
words they change _nis_ into _rin_; and so, instead of saying
_Tunis_, they pronounce _Turin_.

TRUF. I ought to know this in order to understand him. Did he tell you
in what way you could meet with his father?

MASC. (_Aside_). What answer will he give?

[Footnote: Trufaldin having found out that Mascarille makes signs to his
master, the servant pretends to fence.]

(_To Trufaldin, after pretending to fence_). I was just practising
some passes; I have handled the foils in many a fencing school.

TRUF. (_To Mascarille_). That is not the thing I wish to know now.
(_To Lelio_). What other name did he say I went by?