All: King Hal! Leetle Betsy!
(With a wave of the hand Joe departs, and with him, Betsy, who kisses her fingers to the pirates in farewell. The sailors follow. The pirates and Darlin' are left. The pirates sit at the table. They exchange glances of satisfaction. They unbutton for a quiet evening at home. Kings are but an episode in a pirate's life. They return to the happy routine of their lives. Our adventure has circled to its start.)
Patch: Darlin'! Me friend, the Duke, is thirsty. Yer had better mix another pot o' grog. Yer does n't want ter be a foolish virgin and get ketched without no grog.
Darlin': (at the fire). Yer coddles yer stomich, Patch.
Patch: The Duke, he knows a leetle dear as is jest waitin' ter come flutterin' ter his lovin' arms. I thinks it 's yer whiskers, Duke.
Captain: Yer can pull one, Betsy, fer the locket that yer wears. We is laughin' at yer, ol' walrus.
Duke: Kings is bigger than Dukes. I looses without no kickin' up. There 's no one like Darlin' fer mixin' grog.
Darlin': Fer that kind word I 'm lovin' yer.
(She fills the cups.)
Patch: It 's grog beats off the melancholy. As soon as me pipes goes dry, I gets homesick fer the ocean. Here we be, Duke, thrown up at last ter rot like driftwood on the shore. It was 'appy days when we sailed with ol' Flint on the Spanish Main.