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OTHUS.

Of whom speak'st thou, fair Ella?

ELLA.

Nay, nay! thou know'st right well. Did I not see thee,

High as I stood, e'en now, tossing thine arms,
And motioning thy tale with such fit gesture
As image ships and sails, and daring deeds?
Of whom speak even the beggars in our streets
When they such action use? Thou know'st right well,
Of Genoa's captain, and of none but he.
Did'st see him from the walls?

OTHUS (smiling).

My little kinswoman,

Thou looked with a keen and martial eye
As thou dost question me: I saw him not;
I come not from the walls.

ELLA.

Didst thou not talk of him as I descended?

OTHUS.

Yes, of that noble sight.—But dost thou see

(Pointing to his dress.)
There are more warriors in the world, Ella,
Tho' men do talk of us, it must be granted,
With action more compos'd. Behold me now