Botes. When the Sea is: hence, what cares these roarers
for the name of King? to Cabine; silence: trouble vs not.
Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboord.
Botes. None that I more loue then my selfe. You are
a Counsellor, if you can command these Elements to silence,
and worke the peace of the present, wee will not
hand a rope more, vse your authoritie: If you cannot,
giue thankes you haue liu'd so long, and make your
selfe readie in your Cabine for the mischance of the
houre, if it so hap. Cheerely good hearts: out of our
way I say.
Enter.
Gon. I haue great comfort from this fellow: methinks
he hath no drowning marke vpon him, his complexion
is perfect Gallowes: stand fast good Fate to his hanging,
make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our
owne doth little aduantage: If he be not borne to bee
hang'd, our case is miserable.
Enter.
Enter Boteswaine
Botes. Downe with the top-Mast: yare, lower, lower,
bring her to Try with Maine-course. A plague -
A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio & Gonzalo.
vpon this howling: they are lowder then the weather,
or our office: yet againe? What do you heere? Shal we
giue ore and drowne, haue you a minde to sinke?
Sebas. A poxe o'your throat, you bawling, blasphemous
incharitable Dog.
Botes. Worke you then.
Anth. Hang cur, hang, you whoreson insolent Noyse-maker,
we are lesse afraid to be drownde, then thou art.
Gonz. I'le warrant him for drowning, though the
Ship were no stronger then a Nutt-shell, and as leaky as
an vnstanched wench.
Botes. Lay her a hold, a hold, set her two courses off
to Sea againe, lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.
Mari. All lost, to prayers, to prayers, all lost.
Botes. What must our mouths be cold?
Gonz. The King, and Prince, at prayers, let's assist them,
for our case is as theirs
Sebas. I'am out of patience
An. We are meerly cheated of our liues by drunkards,
This wide-chopt-rascall, would thou mightst lye drowning
the washing of ten Tides
Gonz. Hee'l be hang'd yet,
Though euery drop of water sweare against it,
And gape at widst to glut him.
A confused noyse within.
Mercy on vs.
We split, we split, Farewell my wife, and children,
Farewell brother: we split, we split, we split
Anth. Let's all sinke with' King
Seb. Let's take leaue of him.
Enter.
Gonz. Now would I giue a thousand furlongs of Sea,
for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Browne
firrs, any thing; the wills aboue be done, but I would
faine dye a dry death.
Enter.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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