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Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies! Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain!
 * Our captain's commanded.&mdash;

Oh, boys, don’t be sentimental; it’s bad for the digestion! Take a tonic, follow me!

Our captain stood upon the deck,
 * A spy-glass in his hand,

A viewing of those gallant whales
 * That blew at every strand.

Oh, your tubs in your boats, my boys,
 * And by your braces stand,

And we’ll have one of those fine whales,
 * Hand, boys, over hand!

So, be cheery, my lads! may your hearts never fail! While the bold harpooneer is striking the whale!

Eight bells there, forward!

Avast the chorus! Eight bells there! d’ye hear, bell-boy? Strike the bell eight, thou Pip! thou blackling! and let me call the watch. I’ve the sort of mouth for that&mdash;the hogshead mouth. So, so, (thrusts his head down the scuttle,) Star&mdash;bo–l–e–e–n–s, a–h–o–y! Eight bells there below! Tumble up!