John. [Sits.] I'm at anchor.
Enter Sir George Thunder.
Sir Geo. I don't know who's house we've got into here, John; but I think, when he knows me, we may hope for some refreshment—Eh! [Looking at John.] was not I your captain?
John. Yes; and I was your boatswain. And what of all that?
Sir Geo. Then how dare you sit in my presence, you bluff head?
John. Why, for the matter of that, I don't mind; but had I been your captain, and you my boatswain, the man, that stood by me at sea, should be welcome to sit before me at land.
Sir Geo. That's true, my dear John; offer to stand up, and, damme, if I don't knock you down—zounds! I am as dry as a powder match—to sail at the rate of ten knots an hour, over fallow and stubble, from my own house, but half a league on this side of Gosport, and not catch these deserters!
John. In this here chase you wanted the ballast of wisdom.
Sir Geo. How, sirrah! hasn't my dear old friend, Dick Broadside, got the command of the ship I so often fought myself—to man it for him with expedition, didn't I (out of my own pocket) offer two guineas over the king's bounty to every seaman that would enter on board her? Hav'n't these three scoundrels fingered the shot, then ran, and didn't I do right to run after them? Damn the money! I no more mind that than a piece of clinker; but 'twas the pride of my heart to see my beloved ship (the Eagle) well mann'd, when my old friend is the commander.
John. But since you've laid yourself up in ordinary, retired to live in quiet, on your estate, and had done with all sea affairs—