Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it: Master: Boatswain! Boatswain: Here, master; what cheer? Master: Good! Speak to th’ mariners; fall to ’t yarely, or we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir. [Exit. Enter Mariners. Boatswain: Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th’ master’s whistle. Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and Others. Alonso: Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master? Play the men. Boatswain: I pray now, keep below. Antonio: Where is the master, boson? Boatswain: Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; keep your cabins; you do assist the storm. Gonzalo: Nay, good, be patient. Boatswain: When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble us not. Gonzalo: Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boatswain: None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, give thanks you have liv’d so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. – Cheerly, good hearts! – Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gonzalo: I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hang’d, our case is miserable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boatswain: Down with the topmast. Yare, lower, lower! Bring her to try wi’th’ maincourse. [A cry within] A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather or our office. Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo. Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o’er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Sebastian: A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boatswain: Work you, then. Antonio: Hang, cur; hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker; we are less afraid to be drown’d than thou art. Gonzalo: I’ll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Boatswain: Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again; lay her off. Enter Mariners, wet. Mariners: All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [Exeunt. Boatswain: What, must our mouths be cold? Gonzalo: The King and Prince at prayers! Let’s assist them, For our case is as theirs. Sebastian: I am out of patience. Antonio: We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopp’d rascal – would thou mightest lie drowning The washing of ten tides! Gonzalo: He’ll be hang’d, yet, Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid’st to glut him. [A confused noise within:] Mercy on us! We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children! Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split! Antonio: Let’s all sink wi’ th’ King. Sebastian: Let’s take leave of him. [Exeunt Antonio and Sebastian. Gonzalo: Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground – long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death.