Alon. Good boatswain, have a care; where's the master? Play the men.
Trinc. Pray keep below.
Anto. Where's the master, boatswain?
Trinc. Do you not hear him? You hinder us: Keep your cabins, you help the storm.
Gonz. Nay, good friend, be patient.
Trinc. Ay, when the sea is: Hence! what care these roarers for the name of duke? To cabin; silence; trouble us not.
Gonz. Good friend, remember whom thou hast aboard.
Trinc. None that I love more than myself: You are a counsellor; if you can advise these elements to silence, use your wisdom: if yon cannot, make yourself ready in the cabin for the ill hour. Cheerly, good hearts! out of our way, sirs.
[Exeunt Trincalo and mariners.
Gonz. I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks his complexion is perfect gallows: stand fast, good fate, to his hanging; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own does little advantage us; if he be not born to be hanged, we shall be drowned.
[Exit.
Enter Trincalo and Stephano.