Master. Hang her.
Can she not buffet with a storm a little?
How it tosses her, she reels like a Drunkard.
2 Sail. We have discover'd the Land, Sir,
Pray let's make in, she's so drunk else,
She may chance to cast up all her Lading.
1 Sail. Sland in, sland in, we are all lost else, lost and perish'd.
Mast. Steer her a Star-board there.
2 Sail. Bear in with all the sail we can, see Master
See, what a clap of Thunder there is,
What a face of heaven, how dreadfully it looks!
Mast. Thou rascal, thou fearful rogue, thou hast been praying;
I see't in thy face, thou hast been mumbling,
When we are split you slave; is this a time,
To discourage our friends with your cold orizons?
Call up the Boatswain; how it storms; holla.
Boats. What shall we do Master?
Cast over all her lading? she will not swim
An hour else;
Enter Albert, Franvile, Lamure, Tibalt de pont. Morillat.
Mast. The storm is loud,
We cannot hear one another,
What's the coast?
Boats. We know not ye[t]; shall we make in?