TRIPTOLE. Don’t!—let him shiver his timbers. You can form but a faint idea of the exquisite delight I should feel at his shivering his timbers.
CAPT. H. (without) You won’t let me in. Then here goes!
(a tremendous shaking and knocking at the door—TRIPTOLEMUS, in an agony of fear, rushes to the window, throws it open, puts out one leg, then looks down, and hurriedly draws it back again—here other and more violent blows against the door, which is burst open at the very moment that TRIPTOLEMUS rushes frantically into ARABELLA’S room, at R. 2 E.—CAPTAIN HARDAPORT, in a rough pea jacket, tarpaulin coat, and the other peculiarities of a sailor’s costume, comes in, looks about the room, then walks up to ARABELLA, looks her full in the face, then looks again about the room—ARABELLA, who has thrown herself on her chair, has snatched up some worsted work, and pretends to be very busy over it)
CAPT. H. You were talking to somebody.
ARABEL. (looking up from her work, and pretending great unconcern) Did you speak?
CAPT. H. Yes; I said you were talking to somebody.
ARABEL. I was.
CAPT. H. Who?
ARABEL. Myself; ’tis a habit I’ve got when I’m alone and want a little conversation.
CAPT. H. Umph! it sounded to me like a man’s voice. (with intention, and looking intently at her) Umph! (suspiciously) Now listen to me, sister Bella. (taking a chair and sitting down) You must know—— (here a noise is heard in room, R. 2 E.) What’s that?