PROCULUS.
What! a dozen of you fellows here! Up with you! be sharp, and off to the point. See if you can’t be of some use. You may save a life or two yet.
Mar. We have no orders, my lord.
Pro. Where do you expect to find your orders? Go and help your mates. You may get into a scrape yourselves some day.
Mar. Very willing, my lord; so we be sent. (All drain their cups standing.)
Pro. Come, leave your possets.
Mar. Ay, ay, my lord.[Exeunt Mariners.
Pro. Epicharis, wine!
Ep. Gauran, my lord?
Pro. Yes.—And you, sir, I think are the gentleman that begged to go aboard the fleet to get clear of the earthquake. What did I tell you?