d better sit
down, Betsy. Crack me stump, where is the girl?

PATCH: Kinder silly o' her ter run away. We ain 't never walloped her.

DUKE: Women 's silly folks. I calls 'em ninnies. It don 't do no good
tryin' ter understand 'em. Now then, ol' lionheart, are yer ready?
(_He throws._) Two fives! I 've done yer, Patch.

(_It is Patch's turn. He kisses the cubes._)

PATCH: Yer as sweet as honey. Tell me yer loves me. Me dirk is itchin'
fer yer answer. Luck 's a lady as dotes on me. (_He throws._) A pair
o' sixes! Does yer see it, Duke? Stick yer blinkin' eye right down
agin the table! It 's me, Captain. (_He rises and draws his knife._)
Joey are yer ready?

JOE: God, if I were loose I 'd take you by the dirty gullet and twist
it until you roared. I 'd kick you off my path like a snarling cur. Of
what filth does nature sometimes compound a man! Shall a skunk walk
two-legged to infect the air? Three cowards will hang on Wapping wharf
before the month is up.

PATCH: Are n't meanin' us, are yer Joey?

JOE: And I 'll tell you more.

CAPTAIN: Ain 't we listenin' to yer? Yer can talk spry, as Patch here
has a leetle job ter do, and it 's nearin' bed time.

DUKE: We does n't want ter sit up late and lose our beauty sleep jest
listenin' to a speech.

JOE: A pirate takes his chance of death. You guard your dirty skins by
wrecking ships upon the rocks. You dare not pit yourselves against a
breathing victim. Like carrion-crows you sit to a vile and bloated
banquet.

PATCH: Tip me the wink, Captain, when yer has heard enough.

JOE: Stand off, you whelp! The King of England fights in France--

DUKE: Ain 't yer 'shamed that you is not there ter help?

JOE: I 'll tell you why I am not in France. I swore to his majesty
that I would clear his coast of pirates. My plans are made. The
channel is swept by gunboats. They will close in on you tomorrow--you
and all the dirty vermin that befoul these cliffs.

DUKE: He talks so big, ye 'd think he was the King himself.

(_Everyone laughs at this. The Duke takes the cloak from the chest. In
derision he hangs it across Red Joe's shoulders._)

DUKE: We 'll play ch'rades. Here 's yer costume, Joey. There! It fits
yer like the skin o' a snake. We makes yer King. Yer looks like yer
was paradin' in St. James's park, lampin' a Duchess.

PATCH: Does yer majesty need a new 'igh chancellor. I asks yer fer it.
I wants a fine house in London town, runnin' ter the Strand, and
peacocks str