• Ascending

AZORE SAILOR (Ascending, and pitching the tambourine up the scuttle.) Here you are, Pip; and there’s the windlass-bits; up you mount! Now, boys! (The half of them dance to the tambourine; some go below; some sleep or lie among the coils of rigging. Oaths a-plenty.)

• French Man Sailor

FRENCH SAILOR Beat thy belly, then, and wag thy ears. Jig it, men, I say; merry’s the word; hurrah! Damn me, won’t you dance? Form, now, Indian-file, and gallop into the double-shuffle? Throw yourselves! Legs! legs!