A little butter friend, a little butter; butter and parselie is a soveraigne matter: probatum est.
1.
Captaine, we must request your hands now to our honours.
Bess.
Yes marrie shall ye, and then let all the world come, we are valiant to our selves, and theres an end.
1.
Nay, then we must be valiant; O my ribbes.
2.
O my small guts, a plague upon these sharpe toe'd shooes, they are murderers.
Exeunt.