Enter Bustofa.

Bust. THe thundring Seas, whose watry fire washes
The whiting mops:
The gentle Whale whose feet so fell
Flies o'r the Mountains tops. [within Franio.

Fra. Boy.

Bust. The thundring.

Fra. Why boy Bustofa.

Bust. Here I am, the gentle Whale.

Enter Franio.

Fra. Oh, are you here, Sir? where's your Sister?

Bust. The gentle Whale flies o'r the Mountain tops.

Fra. Where's your sister (man)?