John Drake (with emotion). The story, brother, is full of wonder, strange being this!
Drake. He showed me by the stars—that the celestial sphere was made at Babel—a record of the deluge when the great event was new. Zill-Allah, so he called himself, “Shadow of God,” knew all languages, the sacred tongues of India, Egypt, Juda. The story of the flood is in them all, because they came from Babel. The dispersed who formed the nations brought them thence, who else had all been dumb, for language is beyond invention, ’tis the gift of God. In that high tower of rebel pride were lodged the sciences. The heavens were charted, the celestial sphere was formed, and when the awful deluge filled their minds, they wrote its tragic memory in the stars. Argha, Arg, Ark, the same in every tongue. The ship of Noah. (He looks at his companion who is deeply absorbed, then points up). Behold the raven on the serpents back, there is the dove—Bright bird of hope—its symbol, there the great Father of mankind, the victim and the altar, around the monsters of the deep and the wild waves—(Both are earnest and absorbed when the ship rocks and slides, they are startled and agitated.)
Drake (startled but calm). Thy will be done.
John Drake (much excited). God of mercy! She is breaking up! All hands on deck! (He runs about alarmed and screaming) she is breaking up, all hands on deck.
(The crew rush upon deck in alarm, the ship rolls to one side, then falls off the rock into the sea with a heavy plunge, as if overwhelmed—a loud scream from the sailors, she suddenly rights and glides off uninjured, the crew recovering from their alarm break into a loud cheer).
Crew. Hurrah! Hurrah!
Drake. Down on your knees and give thanks for your deliverance!
(The ship is hauled off).
Scene changes.