Tib. Captain, hear me first: hark,
'Tis so inhumane! I would not ha the air corrupted with it.
Alb. O barbarous men! sit down Du-pont,
Good Master, and honest Saylors.
Tib. But stand you off,
And waite upon our charity; I'll wait on you else;
And touch nothing but what's flung ye; as if you were dogs;
If you do, I'll cut your fingers; friends,
I'll spoil your carving.
Amin. There wretches, there.
Tib. Eat your meat handsomely now,
And give Heaven thanks.
Alb. There's more bread.
Tib. See, they snarle like dogs;
Eat quietly you Rascals, eat quietly.
Alb. There is drink too.
Tib. Come, come, I'll fill you each your cups,
Ye shall not surfet.
Amin. And what have you discover'd?