BOATSWAIN.
Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!
Bring her to try wi' th' maincourse. [A cry within] A
plague upon this howling! They are louder than the
weather or our office.--

[Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO]

Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o'er, and
drown? Have you a mind to sink?

SEBASTIAN.
A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
incharitable dog!

BOATSWAIN.
Work you, then.

ANTONIO.
Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker,
we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

GONZALO.
I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were
no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
wench.

BOATSWAIN.
Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses: off