I’m sure ’twas none of me,
I’m clear of that crime;
’Twas him that follows me
That drew his sword so fine.

I’m sure it was not me,
I’m clear of the fact;
’Twas him that follows me
That did this dreadful act.

I’m sure ’twas none of me,
Who say’t be villains all;
For both my eyes were closed
When this good priest did fall.

The Bessy sings—

Cheer up, cheer up, my bonny lads,
And be of courage brave,
We’ll take him to his church,
And bury him in the grave.

The Captain speaks in a sort of recitative—

Oh, for a doctor,
A ten pound doctor, oh.

Enter Doctor.

Doctor. Here I am, I.

Captain. Doctor, what’s your fee?