1 Sail. They have cut the Cables,
And got her out; the Tide too has befriended 'em.
Mast. Where are the Sailors that kept her?
Boats. Here, here [in] the mutiny, to take up money,
And left no creature, left the Boat ashore too;
This Gold, this damn'd enticing Gold.
2 Sail. How the wind drives her,
As if it vied to force her from our furies!
Lam. Come back good old men:
Fran. Good honest men, come back.
Tib. The wind's against ye, speak louder.
Lam. Ye shall have all your Gold again: they see us.
Tib. Hold up your hands, and kneel,
And howl ye block-heads; they'll have compassion on ye;
Yes, yes, 'tis very likely, ye have deserv'd it,
D'ye look like dogs now?
Are your mighty courages abated?
Alb. I bleed apace Tibalt: