Ha, for a divine and princely habitation, commend me to the cows' floor.
Murder! This wave will sweep us away, blessed Saviour! O my friends! a little vinegar.

I sweat again with mere agony.

Alas! the mizen-sail's split, the gallery's washed away, the masts are sprung, the maintop-masthead dives into the sea; the keel is up to the sun; our shrouds are almost all broke, and blown away.

Alas! alas! where is our main course?
Al is verlooren, by Godt! our topmast is run adrift.

Alas! who shall have this wreck?
Friend, lend me here behind you one of these whales.