_Fran._ I. _Lam._ And I. _Sur._ Be patient; They will not fall to every Man's share. _Amin._ O hear me; Hear me ye barbarous men. _Mor._ Be short and pithy, Our stomachs cannot stay a long discourse. _Sur._ And be not fearful, For I'll kill ye daintily. _Amin._ Are ye not _Christians_? _Lam._ Why, do not _Christians_ eat Women? _Enter_ Tibalt, Master, Saylors. _Amin._ Eat one another? 'tis most impious. _Sur._ Come, come. _Amin._ Oh, help, help, help. _Tib._ The Ladies voice! stand off slaves, What do you intend villains? I have strength enough left me, if you abuse this soul, To-- _Ma._ They would have ravisht her upon my life, Speak, how was it Lady? _Amin._ Forgive 'em, 'twas their hungers. _Tib._ Ha, their hungers! _Ma._ They would have eaten her. _Tib._ O dam'd villains; speak, Is it true? _Sur._ I confess an appetite. _Tib._ An appetite, I'll fit ye for an appetite. Are ye so sharp set, that her flesh must serve you? Murther's a main good service with your Worships; Since ye would be such Devils, Why did you not begin with one another handsomly, And spare the Woman to beget more food on? _Amin._ Good Sir. _Tib._ You shall grow mummy rascals; I'll make you fall to your brawns, and your buttocks, And worry one another like keen bandogs. _Amin._ Good Sir be merciful. _Tib._ You shall know what 'tis to be damn'd, Canibals. _Amin._ O my best friend! _Enter_ Albert. _Al._ Alas poor heart! here, Here's some meat and sovereign drink to ease you, Sit down gentle Sweet. _Amin._ I am blest to see you. _Tib._ Stir not within forty foot of this food, If you do dogs! _All._ Oh, Captain, Captain, Captain. _Alb._ Ye shall have meat all of you. _Tib._ Captain, hear me first: hark, 'Tis so inhumane! I would not ha the air corrupted with it. _Alb._ O barbarous men! sit down _Du-pont_, Good Master, and honest Saylors. _Tib._ But stand you off, And waite upon our charity; I'll wait on you else; And touch nothing but what's flung ye; as if you were dogs; If you do, I'll cut your fingers; friends, I'll spoil your carving. _Amin._ There wretches, there. _Tib._ Eat your meat handsomely now, And give Heaven thanks. _Alb._ There's more bread. _Tib._ See, they snarle like dogs; Eat quietly you Rascals, eat quietly. _Alb._ There is drink too. _Tib._ Come, come, I'll fill you each your cups, Ye shall not surfet. _Amin._ And what have you discover'd? _Alb._ Sweet, a paradise, A paradise inhabited with Angels, Such as you are: their pitties make 'm Angels, They gave me these viands, and supply'd me With these pretious drinks. _Amin._ Shall not we see 'em?