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)?