Methinks he [the Boatswain]
hath no drowning mark upon him. His complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging. (I.i.)
I’ll warrant him for drowning though the ship were
no stronger than a nutshell as leaky as an
unstanched wench. (I.i.)
He’ll be hanged yet, though every drop of water swear
against it and gape at widest to glut him. (I.i.)