Stern. I should like to touch at the Victualling Office in our voyage.
Grog. Why, ha’n’t you dined?
Stern. I’ve none to eat.
Grog. A seaman in England without a dinner! that’s hard, d—d hard! there’s money—pay me when you can. (Gives a handful of money.)
Stern. How much?
Grog. I don’t know—get your dinner—buy the arms—meet me in two hours at Deptford, and, shiver me like a biscuit, if I don’t blow your head off.
Stern. Then I can’t pay you your money.
Grog. True; but mayhap you may take off mine; and if so, I shall have no occasion for it.
Stern. Right, I forgot that.
(Wipes his eyes with his sleeve.)