1 GENTLEMAN.
What is my ransom, master? Let me know.
MASTER.
A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
MATE.
And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
LIEUTENANT.
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
Cut both the villains’ throats—for die you shall.
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!
1 GENTLEMAN.
I’ll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life.
2 GENTLEMAN.
And so will I, and write home for it straight.
WHITMORE.
[To Suffolk.] I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
And therefore to revenge it shalt thou die;
And so should these, if I might have my will.
LIEUTENANT.
Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
SUFFOLK.
Look on my George; I am a gentleman.
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
WHITMORE.
And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now! Why starts thou? What, doth death affright?