Page images

Wows. Ah, I fear! What make you love me now?

Trudge. Gratitude, to be sure.
Wows. What that?

Trudge. Not she-she never went to market in all her life.

Plant. I mean, is she for our sale of slaves? Our Black Fair?

Trudge. Ha! this it is, now, to live without education. The poor dull devils of her coun-it try are all in the practice of gratitude, without finding out what it means; while we can tell the meaning of it, with little or no practice at all. Lord, lord, what a fine advantage Christian learning is! Hark'ee, Wows!

Wows. Iss.


Trudge. A black fair! ha, ha, ha! You hold
on a brown green, I suppose.
Plant. She's your slave, I take it?
Trudge. Yes; and I'm her humble servant,
take it.

Plant. Aye, aye, natural enough at sea-
But at how much do you value her?
Trudge. Just as much as she has saved me

Trudge. Now we've accomplished our land--My own life. ing, I'll accomplish you. You remember the instructions I gave you on the voyage?

Wows. Iss.

Trudge. Let's see now-What are you to do, when I introduce you to the nobility, gentry, and others-of my acquaintance?

Plant. Pshaw! you mean to sell her? Trudge. [Staring] Zounds! what a devil of a fellow! Sell Wows!-my poor, dear, dingy wife!

[ocr errors]

Plant. Come, come, I've heard your story from the ship. Don't let's haggle; Til bid as Wows. Make believe sit down; then get up. fair as any trader amongst us: but no tricks Trudge. Let me see you do it. [She makes upon travellers, young man, to raise your a low curtesy] Very well! And how are you price. Your wife, indeed! Why she's no to recommend yourself, when you have no-Christian? thing to say, amongst all our great friends? Trudge. No; but I am; so I shall do as Wows. Grin-shew my teeth. I'd be done by, Master Black-market: and, if Trudge. Right! they'll think you lived with you were a good one yourself, you'd know, people of fashion. But suppose you meet an ihat fellow-feeling for a poor body, who wants old shabby friend in misfortune, that you don't your help, is the noblest mark of our religionwish to be seen to speak to what would you I wouldn't be articled clerk to such a fellow Wows. Look blind-not see him. [do? for the world.

Trudge. Why would you do that? Plant. Hey-dey! The booby's in love with Wows. 'Cause I can't see good friend in her! Why, sure, friend, you would not live distress. here with a black?

Trudge. That's a good girl! and I wish Trudge. Plague on't; there it is. I shall every body could boast of so kind a motive, be laughed out of my honesty, here.—But you for such cursed cruel behaviour.-Lord! how may be jogging, friend; I may feel a little some of your flashy banker's clerks have cut queer, perhaps, at showing her face-but, me in Threadneedle-street. But come, though dam'me, if ever I do any thing to make me we have got among fine folks, here, in an ashamed of showing my own. [xion— English settlement, I won't be ashamed of my Plant. Why, I tell you, her very comple old acquaintance: yet, for my own part, Trudge. Rot her complexion.-I'll tell you should not be sorry, now, to see my old friend what, Mr. Fair-trader; if your head and heart with a new face.-Odsbobs! I see Mr. Inkle were to change places, I've a notion you'd -Go in, Wows;-call for what you like best. be as black in the face as an ink-bottle. Wows. Then, I call for you-ah! I fear I Plant. Pshaw! The fellow's a fool-a rude not see you often now. But you come soon-rascal-he ought to be sent back to the savages, again. He's not fit to live among us

Remember when we walk'd alone,

And heard, so gruff, the lion growl; And when the moon so bright it shone, We saw the wolf look up and howl; I led you well, safe to our cell,

While, tremblingly

You said to me,
-And kiss'd so sweet-dear Wowski tell,
How could I live without ye?

But now you come across the sea,

And tell me here no monsters roar;
You'll walk alone and leave poor me,
When wolves to fright you howl no more.
But ah! think well on our old cell,
Where, tremblingly,
You kiss'd poor me-
Perhaps, you'll say-dear Wowski tell,
How can I live without ye?

[Exit. Trudge. Eh! oh! my master's talking to somebody on the quay. Who have we here!

Enter first PLanter.

Plant. Hark'ee, young man! Is that young Indian of your's going to our market?


Trudge. Oh, here he is at last.


Enter INKLE, and a second PLANTER. Inkle. Nay, sir, I understand your customs well: your Indian markets are not unknown

to me.

2 Plant. And, as you seem to understand business, I need not tell you that despatch is the soul of it. Her name you say is—

Inkle. Yarico: but urge this no more, I beg you. I must not listen to it: for to speak freely, her anxious care of me demands, that here, though here it may seem strange-l should avow my love for her.

Plant. Lord help you, for a merchant-li's the first time I ever heard a trader talk of love; except, indeed, the love of trade, and the love of the Sweet Molly, my ship.

Inkle. Then, sir, you cannot feel my siluation. Plant. Oh yes, I can! We have a hundred such cases just after a voyage; but they never last long on land. It's amazing how constant a young man is in a ship! But, in two words, will you dispose of her, or no?

Inkle. In two words then, meet me here still the burthen of his song was prudence! at noon, and we'll speak further on this sub- Prudence, Thomas, and you'll rise.-Early he ject; and lest you think I trifle with your taught me numbers; which he said, and he business, hear why I wish this pause. Chance said rightly, would give me a quick view of threw me, on my passage to your island, loss and profit; and banish from my mind among a savage people. Deserted,-defence- those idle impulses of passion, which mark less,-cut off from my companions, - my life young thoughtless spendthrifts. His maxims at stake-to this young creature I owe my rooted in my heart, and as I grew-they grew; preservation; she found me, like a dying bough, till I was reckoned, among our friends, a torn from its kindred branches; which, as it steady, sober, solid, good young man; and all drooped, she moistened with her tears." the neighbours called me the prudent Mr.


Plant. Nay, nay, talk like a man of this Thomas. And shall I now, at once, kick down the character which I have raised so warily? Inkle. Your patience.-And yet your inter--Part with her -The thought once struck ruption goes to my present feelings; for on me in our cabin, as she lay sleeping by me; our sail to this your island-the thoughts of but, in her slumbers, she past her arm around time mispent-doubt-fears-for call it what me, murmured a blessing on my name, and you will-have much perplex'd me; and as broke my meditations. your spires arose, reflections still rose with. them; for here, sir, lie my interests, great connections, and other weighty matters-which now I need not mention

Plant. But which her presence here will


Inkle. Even so- -And yet the gratitude I

owe her!

Plant. Pshaw! So because she preserved your life, your gratitude is to make you give up all you have to live upon.

Inkle. Why in that light indeed-This never struck me yet, I'll think on't.

Yar. My love!

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


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.

Yur. My mind has been so busy, that I almost forgot even you. I wish you had staid with me-You would have seen such sights! Inkle. Those sights are grown familiar to

Plant. Aye, aye, do so-Why what return me, Yarico. can the wench wish more than taking her Yar. And yet I wish they were not. - You from a wild, idle, savage people, and provi- might partake my pleasures-but now again, ding for her, here, with reputable hard work, methinks, I will not wish so-for, with too in a genteel, polished, tender, Christian country? much gazing, you might neglect poor Yarico. Inkle. Well, sir, at noonInkle. Nay, nay, my care is still for you. Plant. I'll meet you-but remember, young Yar. I'm sure it is: and if I thought it was gentleman, you must get her off your hands not, I'd tell you tales about our poor old grot -you must indeed.-I shall have her a bar--Bid you remember our palm-tree near the gain, I see that-your servant!-Zounds, how brook, where in the shade you often stretched late it is-but never be put out of your way yourself, while I would take your head upon for a woman-I must run-my wife will play my lap, and sing my love to sleep. I know the devil with me for keeping breakfast. you'll love me then.

Inkle. Trudge.

Trudge. Sir!


Inkle. Have you provided a proper apartment?

Trudge. Yes, sir, at the Crown here; a neat, spruce room, they tell me. You have not seen such a convenient lodging this good while, I believe.

Inkle. Are there no better inns in the town? Trudge. Um-Why there's the Lion, I hear, and the Bear, and the Boar- but we saw them at the door of all our late lodgings, aud found but bad accommodations within, sir.

Inkle. Well, run to the end of the quay, and conduct Yarico hither. The road straight before you: you can't miss it.

[ocr errors]

Our grotto was the sweetest place!

The bending boughs, with fragrance blow


Would check the brook's impetuous pace,
Which murmur'd to be stopt 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.


Trudge. Very well, sir. What a fine thing it is to turn one's back on a master, without Sir C. I tell you, old Medium, you are all running into a wolf's belly! One can follow wrong. Plague on your doubts! Inkle shall one's nose on a message here, and be sure it have my Narcissa. Poor fellow! I dare say won't be bit off by the way,, [Exit. he's finely chagrined at this temporary parting Inkle. Let me reflect a little. Part with-Eat up with the blue devils, I warrant. ber-Justified!--Pshaw, my interest, honour, Med. Eat up by the black devils, I warrant; engagements to Narcissa, all demand it. My for I left him in hellish hungry company. father's precepts, too-I can remember, when Sir C. Pshaw! he'll arrive with the next I was a boy, what pains he took to mould vessel, depend on't-besides, have not I had me!-Schooled me from morn to night-and this in view ever since they were children? I

must and will have it so, I tell you. Is not Miss Narcissa.—In the mean time, he has it, as it were, a marriage made above? They ordered me to brush up this letter for your shall meet, I'm positive. honour, from your humble servant, to comMed. Shall they? Then they must meet mand, TIMOTHY TRudge. where the marriage was made; for, hang me, Sir C. Hey day! here's a stile! the voyage if I think it will ever happen below. has jumbled the fellow's brains out of their Sir C. Ha!-and if that is the case-hang places; the water has made his head turn me, if I think you'll ever be at the celebration round. But no matter; mine turns round, of it. too. I'll go and prepare Narcissa directly, Med. Yet, let me tell you, Sir Christopher they shall be married, slap-dash, as soon as Curry, my character is as unsullied as a sheet be comes from the quay. From Neptune to of white paper. Hymen; from the hammock to the bridal bed Sir C. Well said, old fool's-cap! and it's as-Ha! old boy! mere a blank as a sheet of white paper. You Med. Well, well; don't flurry yourselfare honest, old Medium, by comparison, just you're so hot!

as a fellow sentenced to transportation is hap- Sir C. Hot! blood, arn't I in the West Inpier than his companion condemned to the dies? Arn't I Governor of Barbadoes? He shall gallows-Very worthy, because you are no have her as soon as he sets his foot on shore. rogue; tender hearted, because you never go-She shall rise to him like Venus out of the to fires and executions; and an affectionate sea. His hair puffed! He ought to have been father and husband, because you never pinch puffing, here, out of breath, by this time. your children, or kick your wife out of bed. Med. Very true; but Venus's husband is Med. And that, as the world goes, is more always supposed to be lame, you know, Sir than every man can say for himself. Yet, Christopher.

since you force me to speak my positive qua- Sir C. Well, now do, my good fellow, run lities-but, no matter,-you remember me in down to the shore, and see what detains him. London: didn't I, as member of the Humane [Hurrying him off. Society, bring a man out of the New River, Med. Well, well; I will, I will. [Exit. who, it was afterwards found, had done me Sir C. In the mean time, I'll get ready Naran injury? cissa, and all shall be concluded in a second. Sir C. And, dam'me, if I would not kick My heart's set upon it. Poor fellow! alter any man into the New River that had done all his rambles, and tumbles, and jumbles, and me an injury. There's the difference of our fits of despair—I shall be rejoiced to see him. honesty. Oons! if you want to be an honest I have not seen him since he was that high. fellow, act from the impulse of nature. Why, -But, zounds! he's so tardy!

you have no more gall than a pigeon.

Med. Ha! You're always so hasty; among the hodge-podge of your foibles, passion is always predominant.


Sir C. 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 1, perhaps.

Med. And, what's more, I don't want 'em, sir Christopher, I thank you.

Sir C. Very true; for the devil a gem have you to set off with 'em.

Enter a Servant.

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

Sir C. From the quay? Od's my life!—Tiz be-Tis_Inkle! Show him up, directly. [Ext Servant] The rogue is expeditious after allI'm so happy.


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

Med. Well, well; I never mention errors; that, I flatter myself, is no disagreeable qua- Camp. This reception, Sir Christopher, is lity. It don't become me to say you are hot. beyond my warmest wishes. - Unknown to Sir C. 'Sblood! but it does become you: it youbecomes every man, especially an Englishman, to speak the dictates of his heart.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. An English vessel, sir, just arrived in the harbour.

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

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


Sir C. 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 C. Every tittle.

Camp. And, can you, sir, pardon what is past?

Sir C. Pooh! how could you help it?
Camp. Very true-sailing in the same ship

Med. Well, read, Christopher. Sir C. [Opening the Letter] Huzza! here-andit is. He's safe-safe and sound at Barbadoes.

Sir C. Aye, aye; but we have had a le[Reading] Sir, My master, Mr. Inkle, is dred conjectures about you. Your despair and just arrived in your harbour. Here, read, distress, and all that.-Your's must have been read! old Mediuma damned situation, to say the truth.

Med. [Reading] Um-Your harbour-we Camp. Cruel indeed, Sir Christopher! and were taken up by an English vessel on the I flatter myself will move your compassion 14th ult. He only waits till I have puffed I have been almost inclined to despair, indeed, his hair, to pay his respects to you, and as you say, but when you consider the past

state of my mind-the black prospect before


Sir C. Ha! ha! Black enough, I dare say. Camp. The difficulty I have felt in bringing myself face to face to you.

Sir C. 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.


Sir C. Yes a devilish way asunder. Camp. Granted, sir: which has distressed me with the cruelest doubts as to our meeting.

Sir C. It was a toss up1).

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 C. Who? I! 'sblood! no, never in my life.

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

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

Camp. Amazement! I can scarce believe

my senses.

Sir C. Zounds! you ought to be out of your senses: but dispatch-make short work of it, ever while you live, my boy,

[blocks in formation]

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 orEnter NARCISSA and PATTY. der'd the carriage, and the young couple will Here, girl: here's your swain. [To Narcissa. be whisk'd, here, to church, in a quarter of Camp. I just parted with my Narcissa, on an hour. My business is to prevent young the quay. sobersides, young Inkle, from appearing, to Sir C. Did you! Ah, sly dog-had a meet- interrupt the ceremony.-Ha! here's the Crown, ing before you came to the old gentleman. where I hear he is hous'd. So now to find But here-Take him, and make much of him Trudge, and trump up a story, in the true -and, for fear of further separations, you stile of a chambermaid. [Goes into the House. shall e'en be tack'd together directly. What Patty, within] I tell you it don't signify, and say you, girl? I will come up. [Trudge, within] But it does Camp. Will my Narcissa consent to my signify, and you can't come up. happiness?

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

Sir C. 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 Chr. Your Colinettes, and Arriettes,


I shan't.

Re-enter PATTY, with TRUDge. Patty. You had better say at once, Trudge. Well then, you shan't. Patty. Savage! Pretty behaviour you have pick'd up among 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 Thread-needle-street, blotted out by the blacks you have been living with.

Trudge. No such thing; I practis'd 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.

[ocr errors]

1) A chance. The custom is for one person to top piece of money into the air, and the other to say what side he thinks will be uppermost when it is fallen on the ground; and if he guesses right, he has gain- Patty. Don't tell me! A mighty civil receped; thus it entirely depends on chance, although the tion you give a body, truly, after a six weeks London boys think, in their tossing (gaffing) with the Pye-men, that particular twist of the hand gives a parting.

particular sort of luck.

Trudge. Gad, you're right; I am

a little

[blocks in formation]

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 present.

Patty. Busy-ha! Plodding! What he's his multiplication again?


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

[blocks in formation]

Patty. [Aside] Rare news for my mistress! at-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 Patty. Certainly; and the whole of my bu- think any smart, tight, little, black-eyed wench, siness was to prevent his hurrying himself-would be struck with my figure? [Conceitedly. 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.

Trudge. Oh! let me alone to give the servants notice-rat-tat-tat-It's all the notice we had in Threadneedle-street of the arrival of a visitor1).

Patty. Threadneedle-street! Threadneedle nonsense! I'd have you to know we do every thing here with an air. Matters have taken another turn-Stile! Stile, sir, is required here, I promise you.

Trudge. Turn-Stile!2) And pray_what stile will serve your turn now, Madam Patty?

Patty. Pshaw! never mind your figure. Tell me how it happen'd?

Trudge. You shall hear: when the ship left us ashore, my master turn'd 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 chear 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 grian'd like a devil, came down the hill in a jog tro! My master melted as fast as a pot of pomatum!" Paity. Mercy on us!

Trudge. But what does I do, but whips Patty. A due dignity and decorum, to be out my desk knife, that I us'd to cut the quills sure. Sir Christopher intends Mr. Inkle, you with at home; met the monster, and slit up know, for his son-in-law, and must receive his throat like a pen-The boar bled like a him in public form, (which can't be till to- pig. morrow morning) for the honour of his go- Patty. Lord! Trudge, what a great traveller vernorship: why the whole island will ring

of it.

Trudge. The devil it will!

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

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 AdelTrudge. O, my poor master! phi-Well; there we were half an hour, bePatty. Then a public breakfast; then a pro- fore I could get him to go in; there's no ac cession; then, if nothing happens to prevent counting for fear, you know. At last, in we it, he'll get into church and be married in a 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.


Trudge. Then he'll get into a damn'd scrape, in a crack. Ah! poor madam Yarico! My poor pilgarlic of a master, what will become of him! [Half aside. Patty. Why, what's the matter with the booby?

Trudge. Nothing, nothing-he'll be hang'd for poli-bigamy.

Patty. Polly who?

Trudge. It must out-Patty!

Patty. What, all alone? Trudge. Eh!-No-no-Hum-She bad a young lion by way of a lap-dog.

Patty. Gemini; what did you do? Trudge. Gave her a jog, and she open her eyes-she struck my master immediately. Pally. Mercy on us! with what?

Trudge. With her beauty, you ninay, to be sure: and they soon brought matters to bear. The wolves witness'd the contract-l gave her away - The crows croak'd ames; double rap, presenting their bill, saying, "Bill for and we had board and lodging for nothing payment," if the party who is to pay the bill is not! Patty. And this is she he has brought to

1) The clerks in London with their small, long, black port-folio under their arm, come to the door with a

present, or perhaps unprepared, the clerk is desired to leave a direction," (the address of the bearer of the bill) and the bill must be taken before 5 o'

Trudge. The same.


Patty. Well; and tell me, Trudge;-she's

clock. If the party is present; the question is "how pretty, you say-Is she fair or brown?

much?" a check is given and the clerk retires; but so singularly laconic are they, that seldom one word more escapes them.

2) Turnstile is the name of an alley in Holborn.-This is a miserable pun.

Trudge. Um! she's a good comely copper.
Patty. How! a tawney?

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

« EelmineJätka »