James Prothero: Get on in the world; that's all the poor fool thinks of. But he never will. Do you know who does? A man who can buy himself a part of some stinking scow, man her, and hire some poor devil like me to run her. Then sit back in his office and watch the dollars roll in. He can't lose. After a while, the bottom will fall out of her but that's alright. If I get her home, they buy me a bottle of whisky, if I don't the insurance will pay for the lot.
Pereira: You are sad tonight, Senhor Commandante, eh?
James Prothero: No, I'm not sad, Pereira.
Pereira: Oh, excuse, Senhor, I, er, forget.
James Prothero: Forget? Forget what?
Pereira: Oh, you English, you get embarrassed if anybody asks you what is in your heart.
James Prothero: Don't be a blithering idiot!
James Prothero: You want to know the truth? It's just that suddenly tonight, I saw myself growing old. And I didn't like it. When you're young you see the good days all ahead of you. Then suddenly you get older and catch sight of them behind you and wonder how in the devil's name they got there.
Pereira: It's a discovery everybody makes, Senhor.
James Prothero: Shall I tell you something, Pereira? If I thought it would make the slightest difference, I'd fling the whole life up tomorrow; ships, cargoes, crews, companies, everything. And live on a rock in Galway.
Pereira: Well, we want what God will not give us, eh? Me, I am the opposite. I have a wife and six, seven babies and every night I take out the foreign commandantes; Vera Cruz, Montevideo, New York, Panama. And sometimes I think to myself, Jose, maybe just this once you forget those babies and go along.
James Prothero: Go along where?
Pereira: Hm
[chuckles]
Pereira: Who knows?
