Tib. Away with it lustily, Sailors;
It was some pawn that he has got unjustly;
Down with it low enough, and let Crabs breed in't.
Mast. Over with the Trunks too.
Enter Albert.
Alb. Take mine and spare not.
Mast. We must over with all.
Fran. Will ye throw away my Lordship
That I sold, put it into cloaths and necessaries,
To goe to sea with?
Tib. Over with it; I love to see a Lordship sink;
Sir, you left no wood upon't, to buoy it up;
You might ha' sav'd it else.
Fran. I am undone for ever.
Alb. Why we are all undone; would you be only happy?
Lam. Sir, you may loose too.