Kit. The window!
Arethusa. Quick, quick! (She unfastens R. window, by which Kit goes out.)
SCENE II
Arethusa, Gaunt entering L.
Arethusa. Father, Kit is gone . . . He is asleep.
Gaunt. Waiting, waiting and wearying. The years, they go so heavily, my Hester still waiting! (He goes R. to chest, which he opens.) That is your chain; it’s of Guinea gold; I brought it you from Guinea. (Taking out chain.) You liked it once; it pleased you long ago; O, why not now—why will you not be happy now? . . . I swear this is my last voyage; see, I lay my hand upon the Holy Book and swear it. One more venture—for the child’s sake, Hester; you don’t think upon your little maid.
Arethusa. Ah, for my sake, it was for my sake!
Gaunt. Ten days out from Lagos. That’s a strange sunset, Mr. Yeo. All hands shorten sail! Lay aloft there, look smart! . . . What’s that? Only the negroes in the hold . . . Mr. Yeo, she can’t live long at this; I have a wife and child in Barnstaple. . . . Christ, what a sea! Hold on, for God’s sake—hold on fore and aft! Great God! (as thought the sea were making a breach over the ship at the moment).
Arethusa. O!
Gaunt. They seem quieter down below there . . . No water—no light—no air—seven days battened down, and the seas mountain high, and the ship labouring hell-deep! Two hundred and five, two hundred and five, two hundred and five—all to eternal torture!