Well well; as you please then; your money’s your own.
Peer.
Right! Mine it is, and no one else’s.
We’ll reckon as soon as your anchor is down!
Take my fare, in the cabin, from Panama here.
Then brandy all round to the crew. Nothing more.
If I give a doit more, slap my jaw for me, Captain.
The Captain.
I owe you a quittance, and not a thrashing;—
But excuse me, the wind’s blowing up to a gale.