Offa. Not only we, but even the elements, are your slaves. The land obeys you from shore to shore; and the sea obeys you.
Canute. Does the sea, with its loud boisterous waves, obey me? Will that terrible element be still at my bidding?
Offa. Yes, the sea is yours; it was made to bear your ships upon its bosom, and to pour the treasures of the world at your royal feet. It is boisterous to your enemies, but it knows you to be its sovereign.
Canute. Is not the tide coming up?
Oswald. Yes, my liege; you may perceive the swell already.
Canute. Bring me a chair, then; set it here upon the sands.
Offa. Where the tide is coming up, my gracious lord?
Canute. Yes, set it just here.
Oswald (aside). I wonder what he is going to do!
Offa (aside). Surely, he is not such a fool as to believe us!