Car. Coward, rascal coward!
Dogs eat thy flesh!
Hengo. Oh, I bleed hard! I faint too; out upon't,
How sick I am!—the lean rogue, uncle!
Car. Look, boy;
I've laid him sure enough.
Hengo. Have you knocked his brains out?
Car. I warrant thee, for stirring more; cheer up, child.
Hengo. Hold my sides hard; stop, stop; oh, wretched fortune,
Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, uncle.