She gives him another piece of money, and goes off by way of the rose-trellised passage-way. A sailor comes up the steps.
THE SAILOR. Fool, where is the Prince?
THE FOOL. I do not know, sailor, but I can tell you what I think.
THE SAILOR. What difference does it make what you think? I have a message to deliver to him.
THE FOOL. I think that the Queen has sung him to sleep, and that he has not yet awakened.
THE SAILOR. It is likely enough. But I have been sent by the captain, and I must see him.
THE FOOL. You look hot.
THE SAILOR. I am so hot and thirsty that I could drink a barrelful of wine. It is well enough for the Prince to lie about and eat and drink and be sung to by pretty women, but we sailors have work to do. This business of staying only three days in each port disgusts me. No sooner do we get ashore than we have to go back on board again. I saw a girl yesterday, a beauty, and not afraid of a man. There must be many like that here, but what good does it do me? I spent all my money on her, and now I can't even get a drink. It's a shame.
THE FOOL. Would you like a drink?
THE SAILOR. Fool, don't make a mock of my thirst, or I'll twist your neck.