Billy Budd, Act 2: "Don't like the french!" (Sailing Master, First Lieutenant, Vere)

Don't like the boy gets.

Nor did it go, don't like letting go.

Bye.

Mamma!

A wicked mess, and it's merited punishment.

O God, preserve us from the north!

No.

Thank you.

No, no.

Thank you.

He has a hundred eyes.