Ash. Noa, zur, we do hit thic way.
Handy, jun. Zounds and fury!
Sir Abel. Why, Bob, he has broke your head.
Handy, jun. Yes; he rather hit me—he somehow——
Sir Abel. He did indeed, Bob.
Handy, jun. Damn him—The fact is, I am out of practice.
Ash. You need not be, zur; I'll gi' ye a belly full any day, wi' all my heart and soul.
Handy, jun. No, no, thank you—Farmer, what's your name?
Ash. My name be Tummas Ashfield—any thing to say against my name?
[Threatening.