Sir Jol. Just here, just under his left pap, a dreadful gash.
Sir Dav. So very wide?
Sir Jol. Oh, as wide as my hat; you might have seen his lungs, liver, and heart, as perfectly as if you had been in his belly.
Sir Dav. Is there no way to have him privately buried, and conceal this murder? Must I needs be hanged by the neck like a dog, neighbour? Do I look as if I would be hanged?
Sir Jol. Truly, Sir Davy, I must deal faithfully with you, you do look a little suspiciously at present; but have you seen the devil, say you?
Sir Dav. Ay, surely it was the devil, nothing else could have frighted me so.
Sir Jol. Bless us, and guard us all the angels! what's that?
Sir Dav. "Potestati sempiternæ cujus benevolentiâ servantur gentes, et cujus misericordiâ"—
[Kneels, holding up his hands, and muttering as if he prayed.