CRABTREE. Only a Friend of Sir Peter's then I presume—but, sir, you must have heard of this accident—
SIR OLIVER. Not a word!
CRABTREE. Not of his being dangerously wounded?
SIR OLIVER. The Devil he is!
SIR BENJAMIN. Run thro' the Body——
CRABTREE. Shot in the breast——
SIR BENJAMIN. By one Mr. Surface——
CRABTREE. Aye the younger.
SIR OLIVER. Hey! what the plague! you seem to differ strangely in your accounts—however you agree that Sir Peter is dangerously wounded.
SIR BENJAMIN. Oh yes, we agree in that.