_Cap_. At the first shott, when the _Convertine_ came in, 3 men were killd. _Ma_.

At the second 4, was't not? _Cap_. At the third two more: one salutation Came so close that, with the very wind, My hands have almost lost the sense of feeling. _Jewell_, thou mad'st thy muskett spitt fire bravely.

_Ma_. And my _Devonshire_ blade, honest _Dick_Pike_, Spard not his Sugar pellets among my _Spanyards_. _Cap_.

He did like a soldier, as he that chargd his muskett told me: in this service he hath dischargd 70 bulletts. _Pike_. I did my part, sir, and wish I had bene able to have layd 'em on thicker; but I have lynd somebodyes gutts, much good doe 'em with it; some of them have wishd well to me.

_Cap_. Art hurt? _Ma_. Where? _Pike_.