Yes, heaven be thanked; but I feel a shrowd ach, sure h'as sprang my huckle-bone.
1 Sword.
I ha' lost a hanch.
Bes.
A little butter, friend a little butter, butter and parseley and a soveraign matter: probatum est.
2 Sword.
Captain we must request your hand now to our honours.
Bes.
Yes marry shall ye, and then let all the world come, we are valiant to our selves, and there's an end.
1 Sword.