Ruff.
By Gog’s heart, my dagger into her I will thrust.
Snuff.
Ah, ye boy, ye would do it, and ye durst!
Ambidexter.
Peace, my masters; ye shall not fight:
He that draws first, I will him smite.
Ruff.
Gog’s wounds, Master Snuff, are ye so lusty?
Snuff.