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The Cook.
[Comes up on the other side.]
Oh, Lord God—for my children's sake, Have mercy! Let me reach the land!
[Seizes hold of the keel.
Peer. Let go! The Cook. Let go! Peer. I'll strike! The Cook. So'll I! Peer. I'll crush you down with kicks and blows! Let go your hold! She won't float two! The Cook. I know it! Yield! Peer. Yield you! The Cook. Oh yes!
[They fight; one of the Cook's hands is disabled; he clings on with the other.
Peer.
Off with that hand!
The Cook.
Oh, kind sir—spare!
Think of my little ones at home
