Sir Dav. Oh, like a lion! he fears neither God, man, nor devil.
Bloody-B. I'll bring it you for your breakfast to-morrow. Did you never eat a man's heart, sir?
Sir Dav. Eat a man's heart, friend?
Four. Ay, ay, a man's heart, sir; it makes absolutely the best ragout in the world: I have eaten forty of 'em in my time without bread.
Sir Dav. O Lord, a man's heart! my humble service to you both, gentlemen.
Bloody-B. Why, your Algerine pirates eat nothing else at sea; they have them always potted up like venison: your well-grown Dutchman's heart makes an excellent dish with oil and pepper.
Sir Dav. O Lord, O Lord! friend, friend, a word with you: how much must you and your companion have to do this business?
Four. What, and bring you the heart home to your house?
Sir Dav. No, no, keeping the heart for your own eating.—I'll be rid of 'em as soon as possible I can.