fraid of it; I want to feel the air.

PISCATOR. And where are you going now?

DISCIPULA. Going to sit down in the bow of the boat. This view is much
finer! Oh, this is grand!

PISCATOR. But, good scholar! good scholar! you will certainly fall out
there! I believe you are crazy, you look so wild!

DISCIPULA. How the boat pitches over the little waves! And, Mr. Piscator,
direct the boat toward the shore, so as to make it rock more. The heavens
are all grey, and the waters are all black, and the wind is high and wild
in its sport like an imprisoned bird let loose. Oh master, spread the
other sail, and see if we can't fly faster! Here are the rocks so grim;
but it is growing dark, and I can only just make them out. Why, Mr.
Piscator, you are not going near enough! Run close in under them!

PISCATOR. I shall say to you plainly, what you ask is impossible. It would
be running an unwarrantable hazard; as indeed coming up here at all was
unwarrantable.

DISCIPULA. At least then, good master, keep along up at this distance, if
that pleases you best; for there is a bluff just ahead, which projects
farther out than the others, and we shall pass close by it.

PISCATOR. It is high time that we commenced our return in good earnest.
And therefore, scholar, for I must remind you that you are my scholar till
I see you safe ashore; therefore, if you please, you may stand by the sail
to tack.

DISCIPULA. But just look once, how boldly and sternly it lifts up its calm
front out of the boiling waters!

PISCATOR. It is without doubt, very fine; but it is impossible to hold on
a foot farther. So if you will stand by the sail----

DISCIPULA. I wish I had a boat of my own to sail out here alone in and go
where I choose! Well, what shall I do? how shall I go to work? Oh, Mr.
Piscator! honest Mr. Piscator! let me hold the helm while you take care of
the sails.

PISCATOR. Willingly, if your hand is strong enough. Try it; shall you be
able to hold it as it is?

DISCIPULA. With the greatest ease. Now then, are you ready? What are you
letting down the sail for? That three-cornered rag from the bow-sprit wont
be enough!

PISCATOR. It would be unsafe to set the main-sail, and I think with this
breeze the fore-stay-sail will drive us sufficiently fast.

DISCIPULA. Well, suit yourself. Now are you ready?

PISCATOR. Ready, certainly, when I take the helm. But what are you doing?
If you undertake to let the skiff fall off before the wind