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Mar. There!

The sun's the neatest surgeon I know, and th' honestest.

If thou recoverest, why, so: if not, the cure's paid—they

have maul'd us.

Gra. A curse light on this powder! It stays valour,

ere it's half-way on its journey. What a disadvantage

fight we upon in this age! He that did well heretofore

had the broad fair day to show it in, witnesses enough.

We must believe one another: 'tis night, when we begin.

Eternal smoke and sulphur smalky—by this hand, I can

bear with thee no longer! How now? dead, as I live!

Stol'n away just as he us'd to wench. Well, go thy

ways: for a quiet drinker and dier, I shall never know

thy fellow. [Searches his pockets] These trifles, too,

about thee? There was never an honester poor wretch

born, I think. Look i' th' t'other pocket, too—hum!

Marinel?

Mar. Who's that?

Gra. 'Tis I: how goes matters?

Mar. Scurvily enough;

Yet, since our Colonel came, th'ave got no ground

Of us—a weak sculler against wind and tide

Would have done as much. Hark!

This way the torrent bears.

Fre. The villains all have left us.

Alm. Would they had left

Their fears behind them! but come, since we must

Bren. Ho!

Stratheman, skirt on the left hand with the horse,

And get betwixt these and that body: they're

New rallied up for rescue.

Dor. Th'are ours.

I do not see my game yet.