University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

SEASIDE. NIGHT. Paolucci, Stamura.
Paolucci.
I feel the spray upon my face already.
Is the wind fair?

Stamura.
'Tis fiercely fair.

Paolucci.
The weather
Can not be foul then.

Stamura
(lifting him aboard).
Sit down here. Don't tremble.

Paolucci.
Then tell the breeze to wax a trifle warmer,
And lay thy hand upon those hissing waves.
She grates the gravel . . We are off at last.