Bul. Why, sir, he entertained me with a fine story of a great sea-fight between the Hungarians, I think it was, and the wild Irish.
Kite. And so, sir, while we were in the heat of battle—the captain carried off the baggage.
Bal. Serjeant, go along with this fellow to your captain, give him my humble service, and desire him to discharge the wench, though he has listed her.
Bul. Ay, and if she ben't free for that, he shall have another man in her place.
Kite. Come, honest friend, you shall go to my quarters instead of the captain's. [Aside.
[Exeunt Kite and Bullock.
Bal. We must get this mad captain his complement of men, and send him packing, else he'll overrun the country.
Wor. You see, sir, how little he values your daughter's disdain.
Bal. I like him the better: I was just such another fellow at his age: But how goes your affair with Melinda?
Wor. Very slowly. My mistress has got a captain too, but such a captain!—as I live, yonder he comes!