Gonza. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor: if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present,[367-6] we will not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.[367-7]—Cheerly, good hearts!—Out of our way, I say. [Exit.
Gonza. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning-mark upon him; his complexion[367-8] is perfect gallows.—Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hang’d, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.
Re-enter Boatswain.
Boats. Down with the top-mast! yare; lower, lower! Bring her to try wi’ th’ main-course.[367-9] [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather or our office,[367-10]—
Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
Sebas. A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Boats. Work you, then.