One of the others would have joined in, but, crying, "For shame, a fair field," I beat down his sword.
The next took about the same time to reach the door, and disappeared into the darkness, and the third about half as long.

Of the remaining three, one sulkily declined to draw, and the other two were over drunk for anything.

They sat on the floor and sang a loose song.
"It seems, friends," said the Quaker, "that ye be more ready with words than with deeds.

I pray thee"-- this to the sober one--"take off these garments of sin.

We be peaceful traders, and cannot abide the thought of pirates." He took them off, sash, breeches, jerkin, turban, and all, and stood up in his shirt.