Tib. You shall grow mummy rascals;
I'll make you fall to your brawns, and your buttocks,
And worry one another like keen bandogs.
Amin. Good Sir be merciful.
Tib. You shall know what 'tis to be damn'd, Canibals.
Amin. O my best friend!
Enter Albert.
Al. Alas poor heart! here,
Here's some meat and sovereign drink to ease you,
Sit down gentle Sweet.
Amin. I am blest to see you.
Tib. Stir not within forty foot of this food,
If you do dogs!
All. Oh, Captain, Captain, Captain.
Alb. Ye shall have meat all of you.