'm askin' yer. His 'Ighness cut me when I
passed him in Piccadilly. The bloomin' swab! I pulled me hat, standin'
in the gutter, but he jest seemed ter smell somethin'.

PATCH: It were n't roses, I 'm tellin' yer.

CAPTAIN: Silence! They say he has sworn an oath to break up the pirate
business on the coast.

PATCH: And let us starve? It 's unfeelin'.

DUKE: No pickin's on the beach?

JOE: I 'd like to catch him. I 'd slit his wizen.

DARLIN': I 'd put pizen in the pig I feeds him.

DUKE: I 'd nudge him off the cliff--jest like he were a sneakin'
snooper.

CAPTAIN: Well, there 's yer news! I 'm dry. Darlin'! Some grog!

(_He crosses to the table and draws the pirates around him._)

CAPTAIN: Here 's to the Royal 'Arry!

DUKE: And may the helmsman be wery sleepy!

DARLIN': And we as innercent as leetle pirates suckin' at their
bottles!

ALL: The Royal 'Arry!

(_While the cups are still aloft there is a loud banging at the door.
An old woman enters--old Meg. We have seen her but a minute since pass
the windows. Perhaps she is as dirty as Darlin'. A sprig of mistletoe,
even at the reckless New Year, would wither in despair. She is a gypsy
in gorgeous skirt and shawl, and she wears gold earrings. Any
well-instructed nurse-maid would huddle her children close if she
heard her tapping up the street. Meg walks to the table. She sniffs
audibly. It is grog--her weakness. She drinks the dregs of all three
cups. She rubs her thrifty finger inside the rims and licks it for the
precious drop. She opens her wallet and takes from it a
fortune-teller's crystal._)

MEG: I tells fortins, gentlemen. Would n't any o' yer like ter see the
future? I sees what 's comin' in this here magic glass. I tells yer
when ter set yer nets--and of rising storms. Has any o' yer a kind o'
hankerin' fer matrimony? I can tell yer if the lady be light or dark.
It will cost yer only a sixpence.

CAPTAIN: Yer insults me. Fer better and fer worse is usual fer worse.
Does yer think yer can anchor an ol' sea-dog like me to a kennel as is
made fer landlubbery lap dogs? I 've deserted three wives. And that 's
enough. More 's a hog.

(_He retires to the fireplace in disgust._)

DARLIN': Husbands is nuisances, as I was tellin' the sea-captain, jest
afore he cut his throat.

DUKE: Thank ye, ol' lady, I does n't need yer. When the ol' Duke is
willin', he knows a leetle dear as will come flutterin' to his arms.

PATCH: What can yer do fer an ol'