Reading The Tempest — William Shakespeare

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Ste.

I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I dye

ashore.

This is a very scuruy tune to sing at a mans

Funerall: well,

here's my comfort.

Drinkes.

Sings.

The Master, the Swabber, the Boate‑swaine & I;

The Gunner, and his Mate

Lou'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian, and Margerie,

But none of vs car'd for Kate.

For she had a tongue with a tang,

Would cry to a Sailor goe hang:

She lou'd not the sauour of Tar nor of Pitch,

Yet a Tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch.

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