(The Monsignor and Ciaran enjoy toasting one another, their mates, the ship, the Queen of Heaven, anything they can think of while relaxin down in the galley. At that pace, 'twasn't long afore Ciaran notices that Diego be slurrin his words and laughin more than usual.)
Arrr! To bed with ye, Sir. We've had a good day and tomorrow will be here all too soon. One more toast then.
(raises tankard)
To yer good health, Monsignor! May ye stay young and spry and be able to climb the ropes till yer a very old man!
(mugs clank, rum sloshes around, and soon the two stagger off to their respective bunks)