Nice.

We travel slowly; for since my last letter we have advanced but four leagues. We have all been horribly sick at sea, except Mons. d’ Almane and Dainville. Adelaide and Theodore suffered cruelly; but they, as well as myself, were sick without complaining. Matrasses were provided in the felucca for the sick to lie on. In about half an hour, Mons. d’ Almane observed to his son, that such delicacy was ridiculous in a man, and that he might vomit as well sitting as lying. Theodore immediately got up; and I did the same, saying, that courage was as necessary in a woman as a man, though perhaps less useful: but still it was a virtue, and we ought to blush to be one moment without it. At these words the dejected Adelaide crept towards me, and sat down by my side. – This piqued Theodore, who, resolving to surpass women in courage, began chatting in the most free and easy manner; and, though frequently interrupted by sickness, he resumed the conversation as though he had been in perfect health. Mons. d’ Almane triumphed; his eyes sparkled with joy, and seemed to say to me, this is beyond the effort of one of your sex. I leaned towards Adelaide; and whispering in her ear, said to her, have you a mind to shew your father, that you have as much resolution as Theodore? Let us sing a duett. She pressed my hand, and in an instant we began a duett, which we sang, a little out of tune indeed, but with all our force, and with a chearful mein. Mons. d’ Almane came and embraced his daughter: Preserve, my children, says he, this laudable desire of equalling each other in virtue; such an emulation cannot produce a rivalship between you; for endeavouring mutually after perfection, you will render yourselves more worthy of our affection, and of that love you have for each other.