Unsegmented source body · Part 2

_Inkle._ Let me reflect a little. Part with her!--My interest, honour, engagements to Narcissa, all demand it. My father's precepts too--I can remember, when I was a boy, what pains he took to mould me.--School'd me from morn to night--and still the burden of his song was--Prudence! Prudence! Thomas, and you'll rise. His maxims rooted in my heart, and as I grew--_they_ grew; till I was reckoned, among our friends, a steady, sober, solid, good young man; and all the neighbours call'd me _the prudent Mr. Thomas_. And shall I now, at once, kick down the character which I have raised so warily?--Part with her--sell her!--The thought once struck me in our cabin, as she lay sleeping by me; but, in her slumbers, she passed her arm around me, murmured a blessing on my name, and broke my meditations.

_Enter YARICO and TRUDGE._

_Yar._ My love!

_Trudge._ I have been showing her all the wigs and bales of goods we met on the quay, sir.

_Yar._ Oh! I have feasted my eyes on wonders.

_Trudge._ And I'll go feast on a slice of beef, in the inn, here.

[_Exit._

_Yar._ My mind has been so busy, that I almost forgot even you. I wish you had stayed with me--You would have seen such sights!

_Inkle._ Those sights have become familiar to me, Yarico.

_Yar._ And yet I wish they were not--You might partake my pleasures--but now again, methinks, I will not wish so--for, with too much gazing, you might neglect poor _Yarico_.

_Inkle._ Nay, nay, my care is still for you.

_Yar._ I am sure it is: and if I thought it was not, I would tell you tales about our poor old grot--bid you remember our palm-tree near the brook, where in the shade you often stretched yourself, while I would take your head upon my lap, and sing my love to sleep. I know you'll love me then.

SONG.

_Our grotto was the sweetest place!_ _The bending boughs, with fragrance blowing,_ _Would check the brook's impetuous pace,_ _Which murmur'd to be stopp'd from flowing._ _'Twas there we met, and gaz'd our fill:_ _Ah! think on this, and love me still._

_'Twas then my bosom first knew fear,_ _--Fear to an Indian maid a stranger--_ _The war-song, arrows, hatchet, spear,_ _All warn'd me of my lover's danger._ _For him did cares my bosom fill:--_ _Ah! think on this, and love me still._

_For him, by day, with care conceal'd,_ _To search for food I climb'd the mountain;_ _And when the night no form reveal'd,_ _Jocund we sought the bubbling fountain._ _Then, then would joy my bosom fill;_ _Ah! think on this and love me still._

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_An Apartment in the House of SIR CHRISTOPHER CURRY._

_Enter SIR CHRISTOPHER and MEDIUM._

_Sir Chr._ I tell you, old Medium, you are all wrong. Plague on your doubts! Inkle _shall_ have my Narcissa. Poor fellow! I dare say he's finely chagrined at this temporary parting--Eat up with the blue devils, I warrant.

_Med._ Eat up by the black devils, I warrant; for I left him in hellish hungry company.

_Sir Chr._ Pshaw! he'll arrive with the next vessel, depend on't--besides, have not I had this in view ever since they were children? I must and will have it so, I tell you. Is not it, as it were, a marriage made above? They _shall_ meet, I'm positive.

_Med._ Shall they? Then they must meet where the marriage was made; for hang me, if I think it will ever happen below.

_Sir Chr._ Ha!--and if that is the case--hang me, if I think you'll ever be at the celebration of it.

_Med._ Yet, let me tell you, Sir Christopher Curry, my character is as unsullied as a sheet of white paper.

_Sir Chr._ Well said, old fool's-cap! and it's as mere a blank as a sheet of white paper. You are honest, old Medium, by comparison, just as a fellow sentenced to transportation is happier than his companion condemned to the gallows--Very worthy, because you are no rogue; tender hearted, because you never go to fires and executions; and an affectionate father and husband, because you never pinch your children, or kick your wife out of bed.

_Med._ And that, as the world goes, is more than every man can say for himself. Yet, since you force me to speak my positive qualities--but, no matter,--you remember me in London; didn't I, as member of the Humane Society, bring a man out of the New River, who, it was afterwards found, had done me an injury?

_Sir Chr._ And, dam'me, if I would not kick any man into the New River that had done me an injury. There's the difference of our honesty. Oons! if you want to be an honest fellow, act from the impulse of nature. Why, you have no more gall than a pigeon.

_Med._ And you have as much gall as a turkey cock, and are as hot into the bargain--You're always so hasty; among the hodge-podge of your foibles, passion is always predominant.

_Sir Chr._ So much the better.----Foibles, quotha? foibles are foils that give additional lustre to the gems of virtue. You have not so many foils as I, perhaps.

_Med._ And, what's more, I don't want 'em, Sir Christopher, I thank you.

_Sir Chr._ Very true; for the devil a gem have you to set off with 'em.

_Med._ Well, well; I never mention errors; that, I flatter myself, is no disagreeable quality.--It don't become me to say you are hot.

_Sir Chr._ 'Sblood! but it does become you: it becomes every man, especially an Englishman, to speak the dictates of his heart.

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ An English vessel, sir, just arrived in the harbour.

_Sir Chr._ A vessel! Od's my life!----Now for the news--If it is but as I hope--Any dispatches?

_Serv._ This letter, sir, brought by a sailor from the quay.

[_Exit._

_Sir Chr._ [_Opening the letter_] Huzza! here it is. He's safe--safe and sound at Barbadoes. [Reading]----

_Sir, My master, Mr. Inkle, is just arrived in your harbour_,

Here, read, read! old Medium--

_Med._ [Reading.] Um'--

_Your harbour;--we were taken up by an English vessel, on the 14th ult^{o}. He only waits till I have puffed his hair, to pay his respects to you, and Miss Narcissa: In the mean time, he has ordered me to brush up this letter for your honour, from_

_Your humble Servant, to command_, TIMOTHY TRUDGE.

_Sir Chr._ Hey day! Here's a style! the voyage has jumbled the fellow's brains out of their places; the water has made his head turn round. But no matter; mine turns round, too. I'll go and prepare Narcissa directly; they shall be married slap-dash, as soon as he comes from the quay. From Neptune to Hymen: from the hammock to the bridal bed--Ha! old boy!

_Med._ Well, well; don't flurry yourself--you're so hot!

_Sir Chr._ Hot! blood, ar'n't I in the West Indies? Ar'n't I governor of Barbadoes? He shall have her as soon as he sets his foot on shore. "But, plague on't, he's so slow."--She shall rise to him like Venus out of the sea. His hair puffed? He ought to have been puffing, here, out of breath, by this time.

_Med._ Very true; but Venus's husband is always supposed to be lame, you know, Sir Christopher.

_Sir Chr._ Well, now do, my good fellow, run down to the shore, and see what detains him.

[_Hurrying him off._

_Med._ Well, well; I will, I will.

[_Exit._

_Sir Chr._ In the mean time I'll get ready Narcissa, and all shall be concluded in a second. My heart's set upon it.--Poor fellow! after all his rumbles, and tumbles, and jumbles, and fits of despair--I shall be rejoiced to see him. I have not seen him since he was that high.--But, zounds! he's so tardy!

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ A strange gentleman, sir, come from the quay, desires to see you.

_Sir Chr._ From the quay? Od's my life!----'Tis he--'Tis Inkle! Show him up directly.

[_Exit Servant._

The rogue is expeditious after all.--I'm so happy.

_Enter CAMPLEY._

My dear fellow! [_Shakes hands._] I'm rejoiced to see you. Welcome; welcome here, with all my soul!

_Camp._ This reception, Sir Christopher, is beyond my warmest wishes--Unknown to you----

_Sir Chr._ Aye, aye; we shall be better acquainted by and by. Well, and how, eh! tell me!--But old Medium and I have talked over your affair a hundred times a day, ever since Narcissa arrived.

_Camp._ You surprise me! Are you then really acquainted with the whole affair?

_Sir Chr._ Every tittle.

_Camp._ And, can you, sir, pardon what is past?--

_Sir Chr._ Pooh! how could you help it?

_Camp._ Very true--sailing in the same ship--and--But when you consider the past state of my mind----the black prospect before me.--

_Sir Chr._ Ha! ha! Black enough, I dare say.

_Camp._ The difficulty I have felt in bringing myself face to face to you.

_Sir Chr._ That I am convinced of--but I knew you would come the first opportunity.

_Camp._ Very true: yet the distance between the Governor of Barbadoes and myself. [_Bowing._]

_Sir Chr._ Yes--a devilish way asunder.

_Camp._ Granted, sir: which has distressed me with the cruellest doubts as to our meeting.

_Sir Chr._ It was a toss up.

_Camp._ The old gentleman seems devilish kind.--Now to soften him. [_Aside._] Perhaps, sir, in your younger days, you may have been in the same situation yourself.

_Sir Chr._ Who? I! 'sblood! no, never in my life.

_Camp._ I wish you had, with all my soul, Sir Christopher.

_Sir Chr._ Upon my soul, Sir, I am very much obliged to you. [_Bowing._]

_Camp._ As what I now mention might have greater weight with you.

_Sir Chr._ Pooh! pr'ythee! I tell you I pitied you from the bottom of my heart.

_Camp._ Indeed! if, with your leave, I may still venture to mention Miss Narcissa--

_Sir Chr._ An impatient, sensible young dog! like me to a hair! Set your heart at rest, my boy. She's yours; yours before to-morrow morning.

_Camp._ Amazement! I can scarce believe my senses.

_Sir Chr._ Zounds! you ought to be out of your senses: but dispatch--make short work of it, ever while you live, my boy. Here she is.

_Enter NARCISSA and PATTY._

Here girl: here's your swain.

[_To NAR._

_Camp._ I just parted with my Narcissa, on the quay, sir.

_Sir Chr._ Did you! Ah, sly dog----had a meeting before you came to the old gentleman.--But here--Take him, and make much of him--and, for fear of further separations, you shall e'en be tacked together directly. What say you, girl?

_Camp._ Will my Narcissa consent to my happiness?

_Nar._ I always obey my father's commands, with pleasure, sir.

_Sir Chr._ Od! I'm so happy, I hardly know which way to turn; but we'll have the carriage directly; drive down to the quay; trundle old Spintext into church, and hey for matrimony!

_Camp._ With all my heart, Sir Christopher; the sooner the better.

SIR CHRISTOPHER, CAMPLEY, NARCISSA, PATTY.

Sir Chr. _Your Colinettes, and Arriettes,_ _Your Damons of the grove,_ _Who like fallals, and pastorals,_ _Waste years in love;_ _But modern folks know better jokes,_ _And, courting once begun,_ _To church they hop at once--and pop--_ _Egad, all's done!_

All. _In life we prance a country dance,_ _Where every couple stands;_ _Their partners set--a while curvet--_ _But soon join hands._

Nar. _When at our feet, so trim and neat,_ _The powder'd lover sues,_ _He vows he dies, the lady sighs,_ _But can't refuse._ _Ah! how can she unmov'd e'er see_ _Her swain his death incur?_ _If once the squire is seen expire,_ _He lives with her._

All. _In life, &c. &c._

Patty. _When John and Bet are fairly met,_ _John boldly tries his luck;_ _He steals a buss, without more fuss,_ _The bargain's struck._ _Whilst things below are going so,_ _Is Betty pray to blame?_ _Who knows up stairs, her mistress fares_ _Just, just the same._

All. _In life we prance, &c. &c._

[Exeunt.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

_The Quay._

_Enter PATTY._

_Patty._ Mercy on us! what a walk I have had of it! Well, matters go on swimmingly at the Governor's--The old gentleman has ordered the carriage, and the young couple will be whisked here, to church, in a quarter of an hour. My business is to prevent young sobersides, young Inkle, from appearing, to interrupt the ceremony.--Ha! here's the Crown, where I hear he is housed: So now to find Trudge, and trump up a story, in the true style of a chambermaid. [_Goes into the house._] [_PATTY within._] I tell you it don't signify, and I will come up. [_TRUDGE within._] But it does signify, and you can't come up.

_Re-enter PATTY with TRUDGE._

_Patty._ You had better say at once, I shan't.

_Trudge._ Well then, you shan't.

_Patty._ Savage! Pretty behaviour you have picked up amongst the Hottypots! Your London civility, like London itself, will soon be lost in smoke, Mr. Trudge: and the politeness you have studied so long in Threadneedle-street, blotted out by the blacks you have been living with.

_Trudge._ No such thing; I practised my politeness all the while I was in the woods. Our very lodging taught me good manners; for I could never bring myself to go into it without bowing.

_Patty._ Don't tell me! A mighty civil reception you give a body, truly, after a six weeks parting.

_Trudge._ Gad, you're right; I am a little out here, to be sure. [_Kisses her._] Well, how do you do?

_Patty._ Pshaw, fellow! I want none of your kisses.

_Trudge._ Oh! very well--I'll take it again. [_Offers to kiss her._]

_Patty._ Be quiet. I want to see Mr. Inkle: I have a message to him from Miss Narcissa. I shall get a sight of him, now, I believe.

_Trudge._ May be not. He's a little busy at present.

_Patty._ Busy--ha! Plodding! What he's at his multiplication table again?

_Trudge._ Very likely; so it would be a pity to interrupt him, you know.

_Patty._ Certainly; and the whole of my business was to prevent his hurrying himself--Tell him, we shan't be ready to receive him, at the Governor's, till to-morrow, d'ye hear?

_Trudge._ No?

_Patty._ No. Things are not prepared. The place isn't in order; and the servants have not had proper notice of the arrival. Sir Christopher intends Mr. Inkle, you know, for his son-in-law, and must receive him in public form, (which can't be till to-morrow morning) for the honour of his governorship: why the whole island will ring of it.

_Trudge._ The devil it will!

_Patty._ Yes; they've talked of nothing but my mistress's beauty and fortune for these six weeks. Then he'll be introduced to the bride, you know.

_Trudge._ O, my poor master!

_Patty._ Then a breakfast; then a procession; then--if nothing happens to prevent it, he'll get into church, and be married in a crack.

_Trudge._ Then he'll get into a damn'd scrape, in a crack.

_Patty._ Hey-day! a scrape! How!

_Trudge._ Nothing, nothing----It must out----Patty!

_Patty._ Well!

_Trudge._ Can you keep a secret?

_Patty._ Try me.

_Trudge._ Then [_Whispering._] My master keeps a girl.

_Patty._ Oh, monstrous! another woman?

_Trudge._ As sure as one and one make two.

_Patty._ [_Aside._] Rare news for my mistress!--Why I can hardly believe it: the grave, sly, steady, sober Mr. Inkle, do such a thing!

_Trudge._ Pooh! it's always your sly, sober fellows, that go the most after the girls.

_Patty._ Well; I should sooner suspect _you_.

_Trudge._ Me? Oh Lord! he! he!--Do you think any smart, tight, little, black-eyed wench, would be struck with my figure? [_Conceitedly._]

_Patty._ Pshaw! never mind your figure. Tell me how it happened?

_Trudge._ You shall hear: when the ship left us ashore, my master turned as pale as a sheet of paper. It isn't every body that's blest with courage, Patty.

_Patty._ True.

_Trudge._ However, I bid him cheer up; told him, to stick to my elbow: took the lead, and began our march.

_Patty._ Well?

_Trudge._ We hadn't gone far, when a damn'd one-eyed black boar, that grinned like a devil, came down the hill in jog trot! My Master melted as fast as a pot of pomatum!

_Patty._ Mercy on us!

_Trudge._ But what does I do, but whips out my desk knife, that I used to cut the quills with at home; met the monster, and slit up his throat like a pen--The boar bled like a pig.

_Patty._ Lord! Trudge, what a great traveller you are!

_Trudge._ Yes; I remember we fed on the flitch for a week.

_Patty._ Well, well; but the lady.

_Trudge._ The lady! Oh, true. By and by we came to a cave--a large hollow room, under ground, like a warehouse in the Adelphi.--Well; there we were half an hour, before I could get him to go in; there's no accounting for fear, you know. At last, in we went, to a place hung round with skins, as it might be a furrier's shop, and there was a fine lady, snoring on a bow and arrows.

_Patty._ What, all alone?

_Trudge._ Eh!--No--no.--Hum--She had a young lion, by way of a lap-dog.

_Patty._ Gemini; what did you do?

_Trudge._ Gave her a jog, and she opened her eyes--she struck my master immediately.

_Patty._ Mercy on us! with what?

_Trudge._ With her beauty, you ninny, to be sure: and they soon brought matters to bear. The wolves witnessed the contract--I gave her away--The crows croaked amen; and we had board and lodging for nothing.

_Patty._ And this is she he has brought to Barbadoes?

_Trudge._ The same.

_Patty._ Well; and tell me, Trudge;--she's pretty, you say--Is she fair or brown? or----

_Trudge._ Um! she's a good comely copper.

_Patty._ How! a tawny?

_Trudge._ Yes, quite dark; but very elegant; like a Wedgwood tea-pot.

_Patty._ Oh! the monster! the filthy fellow! Live with a black-a-moor!

_Trudge._ Why, there's no great harm in't, I hope?

_Patty._ Faugh! I wou'dn't let him kiss me for the world: he'd make my face all smutty.

_Trudge._ Zounds! you are mighty nice all of a sudden; but I'd have you to know, Madam Patty, that Black-a-moor ladies, as you call 'em, are some of the very few whose complexions never rub off! 'Sbud, if they did, Wows and I should have changed faces by this time--But mum; not a word for your life.

_Patty._ Not I! except to the Governor and family. [_Aside._] But I must run--and, remember, Trudge, if your master has made a mistake here, he has himself to thank for his pains.

[_Exit PATTY._

_Trudge._ Pshaw! these girls are so plaguy proud of their white and red! but I won't be shamed out of Wows, that's flat.--

_Enter WOWSKI._

Ah! Wows, I'm going to leave you.

_Wows._ For what you leave me?

_Trudge._ Master says I must.

_Wows._ Ah, but you say in your country, women know best; and I say you not leave me.

_Trudge._ Master, to be sure, while we were in the forest, taught Yarico to read, with his pencil and pocket-book. What then? Wows comes on fine and fast in her lessons. A little awkward at first, to be sure--Ha! ha!--She's so used to feed with her hands, that I can't get her to eat her victuals, in a genteel, christian way, for the soul of me; when she has stuck a morsel on her fork, she don't know how to guide it, but pops up her knuckles to her mouth, and the meat goes up to her ear. But, no matter--After all the fine, flashy London girls, Wowski's the wench for my money.

SONG.

_A clerk I was in London gay,_ _Jemmy linkum feedle,_ _And went in boots to see the play,_ _Merry fiddlem tweedle._ _I march'd the lobby, twirled my stick,_ _Diddle, daddle, deedle;_ _The girls all cry'd, "He's quite the kick."_ _Oh, Jemmy linkum feedle._

_Hey! for America I sail,_ _Yankee doodle, deedle;_ _The sailor-boys cry'd, "Smoke his tail!"_ _Jemmy linkum feedle._ _On English belles I turned my back,_ _Diddle, daddle, deedle;_ _And got a foreign fair quite black,_ _O twaddle, twaddle, tweedle!_

_Your London girls, with roguish trip,_ _Wheedle, wheedle, wheedle,_ _May boast their pouting under lip,_ _Fiddle, faddle, feedle._ _My Wows would beat a hundred such,_ _Diddle, daddle, deedle,_ _Whose upper lip pouts twice as much,_ _O, pretty double wheedle!_

_Rings I'll buy to deck her toes;_ _Jemmy linkum feedle;_ _A feather fine shall grace her nose,_ _Waving siddle seedle._ _With jealousy I ne'er shall burst;_ _Who'd steal my bone of bone-a?_ _A white Othello, I can trust_ _A dingy Desdemona._

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

_A Room in the Crown._

[_Enter INKLE._]

_Inkle._ I know not what to think--I have given her distant hints of parting; but still, so strong her confidence in my affection, she prattles on without regarding me. Poor Yarico! I must not--cannot quit her. When I would speak, her look, her mere simplicity disarms me; I dare not wound such innocence. Simplicity is like a smiling babe, which, to the ruffian that would murder it, stretching its little naked, helpless arms, pleads, speechless, its own cause. And yet, Narcissa's family--

_Enter TRUDGE._

_Trudge._ There he is; like a beau bespeaking a coat--doubting which colour to choose--Sir--

_Inkle._ What now?

_Trudge._ Nothing unexpected, sir:--I hope you won't be angry; but I am come to give you joy, sir!

_Inkle._ Joy!----of what?

_Trudge._ A wife, sir! a white one.--I know it will vex you, but Miss Narcissa means to make you happy, to-morrow morning.

_Inkle._ To-morrow!

_Trudge._ Yes, sir; and as I have been out of employ, in both my capacities, lately, after I have dressed your hair, I may draw up the marriage articles.

_Inkle._ Whence comes your intelligence, sir?

_Trudge._ Patty told me all that has passed in the Governor's family, on the quay, sir. Women, you know, can never keep a secret. You'll be introduced in form, with the whole island to witness it.

_Inkle._ So public, too!----Unlucky!

_Trudge._ There will be nothing but rejoicings, in compliment to the wedding, she tells me; all noise and uproar! Married people like it, they say.

_Inkle._ Strange! that I should be so blind to my interest, as to be the only person this distresses.

_Trudge._ They are talking of nothing else but the match, it seems.

_Inkle._ Confusion! How can I, in honour, retract?

_Trudge._ And the bride's merits----

_Inkle._ True!--A fund of merits!--I would not--but from necessity--a case so nice as this--I--would not wish to retract.

_Trudge._ Then they call her so handsome.

_Inkle._ Very true! so handsome! the whole world would laugh at me; they'd call it folly to retract.

_Trudge._ And then they say so much of her fortune.

_Inkle._ O death! it would be _madness_ to retract. Surely, my faculties have slept, and this long parting from my Narcissa has blunted my sense of her accomplishments. 'Tis this alone makes me so weak and wavering. I'll see her immediately. [_Going._]

_Trudge._ Stay, stay, sir; I am desired to tell you, the Governor won't open his gates to us till to-morrow morning.

_Inkle._ Well, be it so; it will give me time, at all events, to put my affairs in train.

_Trudge._ Yes; it's a short respite before execution; and if your honour was to go and comfort poor Madam Yarico----

_Inkle._ Damnation! Scoundrel, how dare you offer your advice?--I dread to think of her!

_Trudge._ I've done, sir, I've done--But I know I should blubber over Wows all night, if I thought of parting with her in the morning.

_Inkle._ Insolence! begone, sir!

_Trudge._ Lord, sir, I only----

_Inkle._ Get down stairs, sir, directly.

_Trudge._ [_Going out._] Ah! you may well put your hand to your head; and a bad head it must be, to forget that Madam Yarico prevented her countrymen from peeling off the upper part of it. [_Aside._]

[_Exit._

_Inkle._ 'Sdeath, what am I about? How have I slumbered! Is it I?--I--who, in London, laughed at the younkers of the town--and, when I saw their chariots, with some fine, tempting girl, perked in the corner, come shopping to the city, would cry--Ah!--there sits ruin--there flies the Green-horn's money! then wondered with myself how men could trifle time on women; or, indeed, think of any women without fortunes. And now, forsooth, it rests with _me_ to turn romantic puppy, and give up all for love.--Give up!--Oh, monstrous folly!--thirty thousand pounds!

TRUDGE. [_Peeping in at the door._]

_Trudge._ May I come in, sir?

_Inkle._ What does the booby want?

_Trudge._ Sir, your uncle wants to see _you_.

_Inkle._ Mr. Medium! show him up directly.

[_Exit TRUDGE._

He must not know of this. To-morrow! I wish this marriage were more distant, that I might break it to her by degrees: she'd take my purpose better, were it less suddenly delivered.

_Enter MEDIUM._

_Med._ Ah! here he is! Give me your hand, nephew! welcome, welcome to Barbadoes, with all my heart.

_Inkle._ I am glad to meet you here, uncle!

_Med._ That you are, that you are, I'm sure. Lord! Lord! when we parted last, how I wished we were in a room together, if it were but the black hole! I have not been able to sleep o'nights for thinking of you. I've laid awake, and fancied I saw you sleeping your last, with your head in the lion's mouth, for a night-cap! and I've never seen a bear brought over to dance about the street, but I thought you might be bobbing up and down in its belly.

_Inkle._ I am very much obliged to you.

_Med._ Aye, aye, I am happy enough to find you safe and sound, I promise you. But, you have a fine prospect before you now, young man. I am come to take you with me to Sir Christopher, who is impatient to see you.

_Inkle._ To-morrow, I hear, he expects me.

_Med._ To-morrow! directly--this moment--in half a second.--I left him standing on tip-toe, as he calls it, to embrace you; and he's standing on tiptoe now in the great parlour, and there he'll stand till you come to him.

_Inkle._ Is he so hasty?

_Med._ Hasty! he's all pepper--and wonders you are not with him, before it's possible to get at him. Hasty, indeed! Why, he vows you shall have his daughter this very night.

_Inkle._ What a situation!

_Med._ Why, it's hardly fair just after a voyage. But come, bustle, bustle, he'll think you neglect him. He's rare and touchy, I can tell you; and if he once takes it into his head that you show the least slight to his daughter, it would knock up all your schemes in a minute.

_Inkle._ Confusion! If he should hear of Yarico! [_Aside._]

_Med._ But at present you are all and all with him; he has been telling me his intentions these six weeks; you'll be a fine warm husband, I promise you.

_Inkle._ This cursed connexion! [_Aside._]

_Med._ It is not for me, though, to tell you how to play your cards; you are a prudent young man, and can make calculations in a wood.

_Inkle._ Fool! fool! fool! [_Aside._]

_Med._ Why, what the devil is the matter with you?

_Inkle._ It must be done effectually, or all is lost; mere parting would not conceal it. [_Aside._]

_Med._ Ah! now he's got to his damn'd square root again, I suppose, and Old Nick would not move him.--Why, nephew!

_Inkle._ The planter that I spoke with cannot be arrived--but time is precious--the first I meet--common prudence now demands it. I'm fixed, I'll part with her. [_Aside._]

[_Exit._

_Med._ Damn me, but he's mad! The woods have turned the poor boy's brains; he's scalped, and gone crazy! Hoho! Inkle! Nephew! Gad, I'll spoil your arithmetic, I warrant me.

[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_The Quay._

_Enter SIR CHRISTOPHER CURRY._

_Sir Chr._ Ods, my life! I can scarce contain my happiness. I have left them safe in church, in the middle of the ceremony. I ought to have given Narcissa away, they told me; but I capered about so much for joy, that Old Spintext advised me to go and cool my heels on the quay, till it was all over. Ods I'm so happy; and they shall see, now, what an old fellow can do at a wedding.

_Enter INKLE._

_Inkle._ Now for dispatch! Hark'ee, old gentleman! [_To the Governor._]

_Sir Chr._ Well, young gentleman?

_Inkle._ If I mistake not, I know your business here.

_Sir Chr._ 'Egad, I believe half the island knows it, by this time.

_Inkle._ Then to the point--I have a female, whom I wish to part with.

_Sir Chr._ Very likely; it's a common case, now a-days, with many a man.

_Inkle._ If you could satisfy me you would use her mildly, and treat her with more kindness than is usual--for I can tell you she's of no common stamp--perhaps we might agree.

_Sir Chr._ Oho! a slave! Faith, now I think on't, my daughter may want an attendant or two extraordinary; and as you say she's a delicate girl, above the common run, and none of your thick-lipped, flat-nosed, squabby, dumpling dowdies, I don't much care if--

_Inkle._ And for her treatment--

_Sir Chr._ Look ye, young man; I love to be plain: I shall treat her a good deal better than you would, I fancy; for though I witness this custom every day, I can't help thinking the only excuse for buying our fellow creatures, is to rescue them from the hands of those who are unfeeling enough to bring them to market.

_Inkle._ Fair words, old gentleman; an Englishman won't put up an affront.

_Sir Chr._ An Englishman! more shame for you! Let Englishmen blush at such practices. Men, who so fully feel the blessings of liberty, are doubly cruel in depriving the helpless of their freedom.

_Inkle._ Let me assure you, sir, it is not my occupation; but for a private reason--an instant pressing necessity----

_Sir Chr._ Well, well, I have a pressing necessity too; I can't stand to talk now; I expect company here presently; but if you'll ask for me to-morrow, at the Castle--

_Inkle._ The Castle!

_Sir Chr._ Aye, sir, the Castle; the Governor's Castle; known all over Barbadoes.

_Inkle._ 'Sdeath this man must be on the Governor's establishment: his steward, perhaps, and sent after me, while Sir Christopher is impatiently waiting for me. I've gone too far; my secret may be known--As 'tis, I'll win this fellow to my interest. [_To him._]--One word more, sir: my business must be done immediately; and as you seem acquainted at the Castle, if you should see me there--and there I mean to sleep to-night----

_Sir Chr._ The devil you do!

_Inkle._ Your finger on your lips; and never breathe a syllable of this transaction.

_Sir Chr._ No! Why not?

_Inkle._ Because, for reasons, which, perhaps, you'll know to-morrow, I might be injured with the Governor, whose most particular friend I am.

_Sir Chr._ So! here's a particular friend of mine, coming to sleep at my house, that I never saw in my life. I'll sound this fellow. [_Aside._] I fancy, young gentleman, as you are such a bosom friend of the Governor's, you can hardly do any thing to alter your situation with him?

_Inkle._ Oh! pardon me; but you'll find that hereafter--besides, you, doubtless, know his character?

_Sir Chr._ Oh, as well as I do my own. But let's understand one another. You may trust me, now you've gone so far. You are acquainted with his character, no doubt, to a hair?

_Inkle._ I am--I see we shall understand each other. You know him too, I see, as well as I.--A very touchy, testy, hot old fellow.

_Sir Chr._ Here's a scoundrel! I hot and touchy! Zounds! I can hardly contain my passion!--But I won't discover myself. I'll see the bottom of this----[_To him._] Well now, as we seem to have come to a tolerable explanation--let's proceed to business--Bring me the woman.

_Inkle._ No; there you must excuse me. I rather would avoid seeing her more; and wish it to be settled without my seeming interference. My presence might distress her--You conceive me?

_Sir Chr._ Zounds! what an unfeeling rascal!--The poor girl's in love with him, I suppose. No, no, fair and open. My dealing is with you and you only: I see her now, or I declare off.

_Inkle._ Well then, you must be satisfied: yonder's my servant--ha--a thought has struck me. Come here, sir.

_Enter TRUDGE._

I'll write my purpose, and send it her by him--It's lucky that I taught her to decypher characters; my labour now is paid. [_Takes out his pocket book, and writes._]--This is somewhat less abrupt; 'twill soften matters. [_To himself._] Give this to Yarico; then bring her hither with you.

_Trudge._ I shall, sir. [_Going._]

_Inkle._ Stay; come back. This soft fool, if uninstructed, may add to her distress. When she has read this paper, seem to make light of it; tell her it is a thing of course, done purely for her good. I here inform her that I must part with her. D'ye understand your lesson?

_Trudge._ Pa--part with Ma--madam Ya-ri-co!

_Inkle._ Why does the blockhead stammer!--I have my reasons. No muttering--And let me tell you, sir, if your rare bargain were gone too, 'twould be the better: she may babble our story of the forest, and spoil my fortune.

_Trudge._ I'm sorry for it, sir; I have lived with you along while; I've half a year's wages too, due the 25th ult. for dressing your hair, and scribbling your parchments; but take my scribbling; take my frizzing; take my wages; and I, and Wows, will take ourselves off together--she saved my life, and rot me, if any thing but death shall part us.

_Inkle._ Impertinent! Go, and deliver your message.

_Trudge._ I'm gone, sir. Lord, Lord! I never carried a letter with such ill will in all my born days.

[_Exit._

_Sir Chr._ Well--shall I see the girl?

_Inkle._ She'll be here presently. One thing I had forgot: when she is yours, I need not caution you, after the hints I've given, to keep her from the Castle. If Sir Christopher should see her, 'twould lead, you know, to a discovery of what I wish concealed.

_Sir Chr._ Depend upon _me_--Sir Christopher will know no more of our meeting, than he does at this moment.

_Inkle._ Your secrecy shall not be unrewarded; I'll recommend you, particularly, to his good graces.

_Sir Chr._ Thank ye, thank ye; but I'm pretty much in his good graces, as it is; I don't know anybody he has a greater respect for.----

_Re-enter TRUDGE._

_Inkle._ Now, sir, have you performed your message?

_Trudge._ Yes, I gave her the letter.

_Inkle._ And where is Yarico? did she say she'd come? didn't you do as you were ordered? didn't you speak to her?

_Trudge._ I cou'dn't, sir, I cou'dn't--I intended to say what you bid me--but I felt such a pain in my throat, I cou'dn't speak a word, for the soul of me; and so, sir, I fell a crying.

_Inkle._ Blockhead!

_Sir Chr._ 'Sblood, but he's a very honest blockhead. Tell me, my good fellow--what said the wench?

_Trudge._ Nothing at all, sir. She sat down with her two hands clasped on her knees, and looked so pitifully in my face, I could not stand it. Oh, here she comes. I'll go and find Wows: if I must be melancholy, she shall keep me company.

[_Exit._

_Sir Chr._ Ods my life, as comely a wench as ever I saw!

_Enter YARICO, who looks for some time in INKLE's face, bursts into tears, and falls on his neck._

_Inkle._ In tears! nay, Yarico! why this?

_Yar._ Oh do not--do not leave me!

_Inkle._ Why, simple girl! I'm labouring for your good. My interest, here, is nothing: I can do nothing from myself, you are ignorant of our country's customs. I must give way to men more powerful, who will not have me with you. But see, my Yarico, ever anxious for your welfare, I've found a kind, good person who will protect you.

_Yar._ Ah! why not you protect me!

_Inkle._ I have no means--how can I?

_Yarico._ Just as I sheltered you. Take me to yonder mountain, where I see no smoke from tall, high houses, filled with your cruel countrymen. None of your princes, there, will come to take me from you. And should they stray that way, we'll find a lurking place, just like my own poor cave; where many a day I sat beside you, and blessed the chance that brought you to it--that I might save your life.

_Sir Chr._ His life! Zounds! my blood boils at the scoundrel's ingratitude!

_Yar._ Come, come, let's go. I always feared these cities. Let's fly and seek the woods; and there we'll wander hand in hand together. No cares shall vex us then--We'll let the day glide by in idleness; and you shall sit in the shade, and watch the sun-beam playing on the brook, while I sing the song that pleases you. No cares, love, but for food--and we'll live cheerily I warrant--In the fresh, early morning, you shall hunt down our game, and I will pick you berries--and then, at night I'll trim our bed of leaves, and lie me down in peace--Oh! we shall be so happy!----

_Inkle._ Hear me, Yarico. My countrymen and yours differ as much in minds as in complexions. We were not born to live in woods and caves----to seek subsistence by pursuing beasts----We christians, girl, hunt money; a thing unknown to you--But, here, 'tis money which brings us ease, plenty, command, power, every thing; and, of course, happiness. You are the bar to my attaining this; therefore 'tis necessary for my good----and which, I think, you value----

_Yar._ You know I do; so much, that it would break my heart to leave you.

_Inkle._ But we must part; if you are seen with me, I shall lose all.

_Yar._ I gave up all for you--my friends--my country: all that was dear to me: and still grown dearer since you sheltered there.--All, all, was left for you--and were it now to do again--again I'd cross the seas, and follow you, all the world over.

_Inkle._ We idle time; sir, she is yours. See you obey this gentleman; 'twill be the better for you. [_Going._]

_Yar._ O barbarous! [_Holding him._] Do not, do not abandon me!

_Inkle._ No more.

_Yar._ Stay but a little. I shan't live long to be a burden to you: your cruelty has cut me to the heart. Protect me but a little--or I'll obey this man, and undergo all hardships for your good; stay but to witness 'em.--I soon shall sink with grief; tarry till then, and hear me bless your name when I am dying; and beg you now and then, when I am gone, to heave a sigh for your poor Yarico.

_Inkle._ I dare not listen. You, sir, I hope, will take good care of her. [_Going._]

_Sir Chr._ Care of her!--that I will--I'll cherish her like my own daughter; and pour balm into the heart of a poor, innocent girl, that has been wounded by the artifices of a scoundrel.

_Inkle._ Hah! 'Sdeath, sir, how dare you!--

_Sir Chr._ 'Sdeath, sir, how dare you look an honest man in the face?

_Inkle._ Sir, you shall feel--

_Sir Chr._ Feel!--It's more than ever you did, I believe. Mean, sordid wretch! dead to all sense of honour, gratitude, or humanity--I never heard of such barbarity! I have a son-in-law, who has been left in the same situation; but, if I thought him capable of such cruelty, dam'me if I would not turn him to sea, with a peck-loaf, in a cockle shell--Come, come, cheer up, my girl! You shan't want a friend to protect you, I warrant you.--[_Taking YARICO by the hand._]

_Inkle._ Insolence! The Governor shall hear of this insult.

_Sir Chr._ The Governor! liar! cheat! rogue! impostor! breaking all ties you ought to keep, and pretending to those you have no right to. The Governor never had such a fellow in the whole catalogue of his acquaintance--the Governor disowns you--the Governor disclaims you--the Governor abhors you; and to your utter confusion, here stands the Governor to tell you so. Here stands old Curry, who never talked to a rogue without telling him what he thought of him.

_Inkle._ Sir Christopher!--Lost and undone!

_Med._ [_Without._] Holo! Young Multiplication! Zounds! I have been peeping in every cranny of the house. Why, young Rule of Three! [_Enters from the inn._] Oh, here you are at last--Ah, Sir Christopher! What are you there! too impatient to wait at home. But here's one that will make you easy, I fancy. [_Clapping INKLE on the shoulder._]

_Sir Chr._ How came you to know him?

_Med._ Ha! ha! Well, that's curious enough too. So you have been talking here, without finding out each other.

_Sir Chr._ No, no; I have found him out with a vengeance.

_Med._ Not you. Why this is the dear boy. It's my nephew; that is, your son-in-law, that is to be. It's Inkle!

_Sir Chr._ It's a lie; and you're a purblind old booby,--and this dear boy is a damn'd scoundrel.

_Med._ Hey-day! what's the meaning of this? One was mad before, and he has bit the other, I suppose.

_Sir Chr._ But here comes the dear boy--the true boy--the jolly boy, piping hot from church, with my daughter.

_Enter CAMPLEY, NARCISSA, and PATTY._

_Med._ Campley!

_Sir Chr._ Who? Campley?--It's no such thing.

_Camp._ That's my name, indeed, Sir Christopher.

_Sir Chr._ The devil it is! And how came you, sir, to impose upon me, and assume the name of Inkle? A name which every man of honesty ought to be ashamed of.

_Camp._ I never did, sir.--Since I sailed from England with your daughter, my affection has daily increased: and when I came to explain myself to you, by a number of concurring circumstances, which I am now partly acquainted with, you mistook me for that gentleman. Yet had I even then been aware of your mistake, I must confess, the regard for my own happiness would have tempted me to let you remain undeceived.

_Sir Chr._ And did you, Narcissa, join in--

_Nar._ How could I, my dear sir, disobey you?

_Patty._ Lord your honour, what young lady could refuse a captain?

_Camp._ I am a soldier, Sir Christopher. Love and war is the soldier's motto; though my income is trifling to your _intended_ son-in-law's, still the chance of war has enabled me to support the object of my love above indigence. Her fortune, Sir Christopher, I do not consider myself by any means entitled to.

_Sir Chr._ 'Sblood! but you must though. Give me your hand, my young Mars, and bless you both together!--Thank you, thank you for cheating an old fellow into giving his daughter to a lad of spirit, when he was going to throw her away upon one, in whose breast the mean passion of avarice smothers the smallest spark of affection or humanity.

_Nar._ I have this moment heard a story of a transaction in the forest, which I own would have rendered compliance with your former commands very disagreeable.

_Patty._ Yes, sir, I told my mistress he had brought over a Hottypot gentlewoman.

_Sir Chr._ Yes, but he would have left her for you; [_To Narcissa._] and you for his interest; and sold you, perhaps, as he has this poor girl to me, as a requital for preserving his life.

_Nar._ How!

_Enter TRUDGE and WOWSKI._

_Trudge._ Come along, Wows! take a long last leave of your poor mistress: throw your pretty, ebony arms about her neck.

_Wows._ No, no;--she not go; you not leave poor Wowski. [_Throwing her arms about YARICO._]

_Sir Chr._ Poor girl! A companion, I take it!

_Trudge._ A thing of my own, sir. I cou'dn't help following my master's example in the woods----_Like master, like man_, sir.

_Sir Chr._ But you would not sell her, and be hang'd to you, you dog, would you?

_Trudge._ Hang me, like a dog, if I would, sir.

_Sir Chr._ So say I to every fellow that breaks an obligation due to the feelings of a man. But, old Medium, what have you to say for your hopeful nephew?

_Med._ I never speak ill of my friends, Sir Christopher.

_Sir Chr._ Pshaw!

_Inkle._ Then let me speak: hear me defend a conduct----

_Sir Chr._ Defend! Zounds! plead guilty at once--it's the only hope left of obtaining mercy.

_Inkle._ Suppose, old gentleman, you had a son?

_Sir Chr._ 'Sblood! then I'd make him an honest fellow; and teach him, that the feeling heart never knows greater pride than when it's employed in giving succour to the unfortunate. I'd teach him to be his father's own son to a hair.

_Inkle._ Even so my father tutored me: from my infancy, bending my tender mind, like a young sapling, to his will--Interest was the grand prop round which he twined my pliant green affections: taught me in childhood to repeat old sayings--all tending to his own fixed principles, and the first sentence that I ever lisped, was--_Charity begins at home._

_Sir Chr._ I shall never like a proverb again, as long as I live.

_Inkle._ As I grew up, he'd prove--and by example--were I in want, I might e'en starve, for what the world cared for their neighbours; why then should I care for the world? Men now lived for themselves. These were his doctrines: then, sir, what would you say, should I, in spite of habit, precept, education, fly in my father's face, and spurn his councils?

_Sir Chr._ Say! why, that you were a damn'd honest, undutiful fellow. O curse such principles! Principles, which destroy all confidence between man and man--Principles which none but a rogue could instil, and none but a rogue could imbibe.--Principles----

_Inkle._ Which I renounce.

_Sir Chr._ Eh!

_Inkle._ Renounce entirely. Ill-founded precept too long has steeled my breast--but still 'tis vulnerable--this trial was too much--Nature, 'gainst habit combating within me, has penetrated to my heart; a heart, I own, long callous to the feelings of sensibility; but now it bleeds--and bleeds for my poor Yarico. Oh, let me clasp her to it, while 'tis glowing, and mingle tears of love and penitence. [_Embracing her._]

_Trudge._ [_Capering about._] Wows, give me a kiss! [_WOWSKI goes to TRUDGE._]

_Yar._ And shall we--shall we be happy?

_Inkle._ Aye; ever, ever, Yarico.

_Yar._ I knew we should--and yet I feared--but shall I still watch over you? Oh! love, you surely gave your Yarico such pain, only to make her feel this happiness the greater.

_Wows._ [_Going to YARICO._] Oh Wowski so happy!--and yet I think I not glad neither.

_Trudge._ Eh, Wows! How!--why not!

_Wows._ 'Cause I can't help cry----

_Sir Chr._ Then, if that's the case--curse me, if I think I'm very glad either. What the plague's the matter with my eyes?--Young man, your hand--I am now proud and happy to shake it.

_Med._ Well, Sir Christopher, what do you say to my hopeful nephew now?

_Sir Chr._ Say! Why, confound the fellow, I say, that is ungenerous enough to remember the bad action of a man who has virtue left in his heart to repent it--As for you, my good fellow, [_To TRUDGE._] I must, with your master's permission, employ you myself.

_Trudge._ O rare!--Bless your honour!--Wows! you'll be lady, you jade, to a governor's factotum.

_Wows._ Iss--I Lady Jactotum.

_Sir Chr._ And now, my young folks, we'll drive home, and celebrate the wedding. Od's my life! I long to be shaking a foot at the fiddles, and I shall dance ten times the lighter, for reforming an Inkle, while I have it in my power to reward the innocence of a Yarico.

FINALE.

[La Belle Catharine.]

CAMPLEY.

_Come, let us dance and sing,_ _While all Barbadoes bells shall ring:_ _Love scrapes the fiddle string,_ _And Venus plays the lute;_ _Hymen gay, foots away,_ _Happy at our wedding-day,_ _Cocks his chin, and figures in,_ _To tabor, fife, and flute._

CHORUS.

_Come then dance and sing,_ _While all Barbadoes bells shall ring, &c._

NARCISSA.

_Since thus each anxious care_ _Is vanished into empty air,_ _Ah! how can I forbear_ _To join the jocund dance?_ _To and fro, couples go,_ _On the light fantastic toe,_ _White with glee, merrily,_ _The rosy hours advance._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

YARICO.

_When first the swelling sea_ _Hither bore my love and me,_ _What then my fate would be,_ _Little did I think----_ _Doomed to know care and woe,_ _Happy still is Yarico;_ _Since her love will constant prove,_ _And nobly scorns to shrink._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

WOWSKI.

_Whilst all around, rejoice,_ _Pipe and tabor raise the voice,_ _It can't be Wowski's choice,_ _Whilst Trudge's to be dumb._ _No, no, dey blithe and gay,_ _Shall like massy, missy play._ _Dance and sing, hey ding, ding,_ _Strike fiddle and beat drum._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

TRUDGE.

_'Sbobs! now, I'm fix'd for life,_ _My fortune's fair, tho' black's my wife,_ _Who fears domestic strife--_ _Who cares now a souse!_ _Merry cheer my dingy dear_ _Shall find with her Factotum heve;_ _Night and day, I'll frisk and play_ _About the house with Wows._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

INKLE.

_Love's convert here behold,_ _Banish'd now my thirst of gold,_ _Bless'd in these arms to fold_ _My gentle Yarico._ _Hence all care, doubt, and fear,_ _Love and joy each want shall cheer,_ _Happy night, pure delight,_ _Shall make our bosoms glow._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

PATTY.

_Let Patty say a word----_ _A chambermaid may sure be heard----_ _Sure men are grown absurd,_ _Thus taking black for white;_ _To hug and kiss a dingy miss,_ _Will hardly suit an age like this,_ _Unless, here, some friends appear,_ _Who like this wedding night._ Chorus. _Come then, &c._

THE END.