Pike. I did my part, sir, and wish I had bene able to have layd 'em on thicker; but I have lynd somebodyes gutts, much good doe 'em with it; some of them have wishd well to me.
Cap. Art hurt?
Ma. Where?
Pike. Nowhere; one of my flanckes itches a little; if a piece of lead have crept in to hide it selfe cowardly I am not much in debt for't.
Cap. Let my Surgeons search it.
Pike. Search a pudding for plums; let my flesh alone; perhaps it wants souldering. Shall we to't agen: I have halfe a score pills for my Spanyards—better then purging comfitts.
Enter a Soldier.
Cap. What newes?
Sol. The fort is yielded.
Pike. They have bene speechlesse a good while; I thought they'de yield up the ghost shortly.