( Worse than a woman is a woman mouthing, divorced from her God-given state, which be silence and perseverance in the feminine arts of making'erself scarce.

He's got nothing against women, does Mr. Eames, he's known a few, bedded far fewer, had himself a mum, a sister. But you don't bring them at sea, and you don't — suppose, maybe, he be huffing — feed their wild notions that they get to be learned.

They know what their husbands tell them. And that's the truth of it, whole. )

Whassit to ye, where we be going? We go where the ship goes, 'nd she goes where she be needed, and where the cap'n needs her.