Arethusa. O! help, help!
Pew. Stash your patter, damn you. (Arethusa gives in.) Ah, I thought it: Pew’s way, Pew’s way. Now look you here, my lovely woman. If you sling in another word that isn’t in answer to my questions, I’ll pull your j’ints out one by one. Where’s the Commander?
Arethusa. I have said: he is abroad.
Pew. When’s he coming aboard again?
Arethusa. At any moment.
Pew. Does he keep his strength?
Arethusa. You’ll see when he returns. (He wrenches her arm again.) Ah!
Pew. Is he still on piety?
Arethusa. O, he is a Christian man!