And again the Captain wisely acquiesces.
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Drops the wind and stops the mill. Turbot is ambitious brill. Gild the farthing if you will, Yet it is a farthing still. |
And again the Captain admits that this may be true. It is quite, quite painful if it is. On the whole, the Captain fears she has got rather the best of him, so he determines to rally; he philosophises a little himself, when he has time. He has time now:
Tho' I'm anything but clever,
he declares rhythmically, even truthfully;
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I could talk like that forever, Once a cat was killed by care, Only brave deserve the fair. |
He has her there, beyond doubt, because all she can say is "how true."
Thus encouraged he continues:
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Wink is often good as nod; Spoils the child, who spares the rod; Thirsty lambs run foxy dangers, Dogs are found in many mangers. |