"Sick, Ma'am, damme, you'll be sicker,
Ere you've been an hour on board."
Thus are screaming
Men and women,
Gemmen, ladies, servants, Jacks;
Here entangling,
All are wrangling,
Stuck together close as wax.—
Such the general noise and racket,
Ere we reach the Lisbon Packet.
3.
Now we've reached her, lo! the Captain,
Gallant Kidd,[1] commands the crew;
Passengers their berths are clapt in,
Some to grumble, some to spew.
"Hey day! call you that a cabin?
Why 't is hardly three feet square:
Not enough to stow Queen Mab in—
Who the deuce can harbour there?"
"Who, sir? plenty—
Nobles twenty
Did at once my vessel fill."—
"Did they? Jesus,
How you squeeze us!
Would to God they did so still:
Then I'd 'scape the heat and racket
Of the good ship, Lisbon Packet."
- ↑ [Compare Peter Pindar's Ode to a Margate Hoy—
"Go, beauteous Hoy, in safety ev'ry inch!
That storm should wreck thee, gracious Heav'n forbid!
Whether commanded by brave Captain Finch
Or equally tremendous Captain Kidd."]
