Trudge. Mercy on us! what damned sto- a little after their spouses. Well, as my master machs, to swallow a tough old tar! though, seems king of this palace, und has taken his for the matter of that, there's many of our Indian queen already, I'll e'en be usher of the captains would eat all they kill, I believe! Ah, black rod here. But you have had a lover or poor Trudge! your killing comes next. two in your time; eh, Wowski? Wows. Oh iss-great many-I tell you.

Wows. No, no-not you-no

[Anxiously.

[Running to him. Trudge. No? why what shall I do, if I get

in their paws?

Wows. I fight for you!

Trudge. Will you? ecod she's a brave, good-natured, wench! she'll be worth a hundred of your English wives-Whenever they fight on their husband's account, it's with him instead of for him, I fancy. But how the plague am I to live here?

Wows. I feed you-bring you kid.

White man, never go away-
Tell me why need you?
Stay, with your Wowski, stay:
Wowsky will feed you.
Cold moons are now coming in:
Ah don't go grieve me!
I'll wrap you in leopard's skin:
White man, don't leave me.
And when all the sky is blue,
Sun makes warm weather,

I'll catch you a cockatoo,
Dress you in feather.

When cold comes, or when 'tis hot
Ah don't go grieve me!
Poor Wowski will be forgot-

White man, don't leave me!

Both.

With a rosy posey,

When I'm dosey,

Bear-skin night-caps, too, shall

warm my head.

Bear-skin night-caps, etc. etc.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

Trudge. Zounds! leopard's skin for winter wear, and feathers for a summer's suit! Ha, ha! I shall look like a walking hammer-cloth, at Christmas, and an upright shuttlecock, in the dog-days. And for all this, if my master and I find our way to England, you shall be part of our travelling equipage; and, when I get there, I'll give you a couple of snug rooms, on a first floor, and visit you every evening men, you may depend on't. My telescope as soon as I come from the counting house. Do you like it?

Wows. Iss.

Trudge. Damme, what a flashy fellow shall seem in the city! I'll get her a white boy) to bring up the tea-kettle. Then I'll teach you to write and dress hair.

SCENE I.-The Quay at Barbadoes. Enter several PLANTERS. 1st Plant. I saw her this morning, gentle

never fails me. I pop'd upon her as I was taking a peep from my balcony. A brave tight ship, I tell you, bearing down directly for Barbadoes here.

2d Plant. Ods my life! rare news! We have not had a vessel arrive in our harbour these six weeks.

Wows. You great man in your country? 3d Plant, And the last brought only madam Trudge. Oh yes, a very great man. I'm Narcissa, our Governor's daughter, from Enghead clerk of the counting-house, and first land; with a parcel of lazy, idle, white folks valet-de-chambre of the dressing-room. Ipounce about her. Such cargoes will never do for parchments, powder hair, black shoes, ink pa- our trade, neighbour.

per,

shave beards, and mend pens. But, hold; 4th Plant. No, no: we want slaves. A terhad forgot one material point-you arn't rible dearth of 'em in Barbadoes, lately! but married, I hope? your dingy passengers for my money. Give Wows. No: you be my chum-chum! me a vessel like a collier, where all the lading Trudge. So I will. It's best, however, to tumbles out as black as my hat. But are you be sure of her being single; for Indian hus-sure, now, you aren't mistaken? bands are not quite so complaisant as English [To 1st Planter. ones, and the vulgar dogs might thing of looking 1st Plant Mistaken! 'sbud, do you doubt 1) In the time when people easily made great fortunes, my glass? I can discover a gull by it six leain a short time, in the Indies, it was customary for gues off: I could see every thing as plain as these persons to bring over with them a black boy to if I was on board.

wait at table, and act as lady's footman, (probably) 2d Plant. Indeed! and what were her cofrom the idea that they would make better servants, as not having the same lens of liberty as an English servant) so that Trudge's idea of having a white boy

lours?

1st Plant. Um! why English-or Dutch

for black Wowski makes a laughable contrast, not or French-I don't exactly remember.

only of the lady with that of the boy; but also the custom that was, with that he pretended to introduce.

3d Plant. What were the sailors aboard?

1st Plant. Eh! why they were English too Patty. Not I, ma'am, not 1. But, if our --or Dutch-or French-I can't perfectly re-voyage from England was so pleasant, it collect. wasn't owing to Mr. Inkle, I'm certain. He 4th Plant. Your glass, neighbour, is a little didn't play the fiddle in our cabin, and dance like a glass to much: it makes you forget on the deck, and come languishing with a every thing you ought to remember. glass of warm water in his hand, when we [Cry without, A sail, a sail. were seasick. Ab, ma'am, that water warm'd Now, your heart, I'm confident. Mr. Inkle; no, no! Captain Cam

1st Plant. Egad, but I'm right tho'.
gentlemen!
All. Aye, aye; the devil take the hindmost.
[Exeunt, hastily.

Enter NARCISSA and PATTY.
Nar. Freshly now the breeze is blowing;
As yon ship at anchon rides,
Sullen waves, incessant flowing,
Rudely dash against the sides:
So my heart, its course impeded,

Beats in my perturbed breast;
Doubts, like waves by waves succeeded,
Rise, and still deny it rest.
Patty. Well, ma'am, as I was saying-
Nar. Well, say no more of what you were
saying-Sure, Patty, you forget where you
are: a little caution will be necessary now, I
think.

Patty. Lord, madam, how is it possible to help talking? We are in Barbadoes, bere, to be sure-but then, ma'am, one may let out a little in a private morning's walk by ourselves. Nar. Nay, it's the same thing with you indoors. [for a gown. Patty. I never blab, ma'am, never, as I hope Nar. And your never blabbing, as you call it, depends chiefly on that hope, I believe. The unlocking my chest, locks up all your faculties. An old silk gown makes you turn your back on all my secrets; a large bonnet blinds your eyes; and a fashionable high handkerchief covers your ears,, and stops your mouth at once, Patty.

Nar. There is no end to this! Remember, Patty, keep your secrecy, or you entirely lose my favour.

Patty. Never fear me, ma'am. But if somebody I know is not acquainted with the governor, there's such a thing as dancing at balls, and squeezing hands when you lead up, and squeezing them again when you cast down, and walking on the quay in a morning. Oh, I won't utter a syllable. [Archly] But remember, I'm as close as a patch-box. Mum's the word, ma'am, I promise you.

This maxim let ev'ry one hear,

Proclaim'd from the north to the south;
Whatever comes in at your ear,
Should never run out at your mouth.
We servants, like servants of state,
Should listen to all, and be dumb;
Let others harangue and debate,
We look wise-shake our heads,—and are

mum.

The judge in dull dignity drest,

In silence hears barristers preach;
And then, to prove silence is best,
He'll get up, and give them a speech.
By saying but little, the maid

Will keep her swain under her thumb;
And the lover that's true to his trade,

Is certain to kiss, and cry mum. [Exit. Nar. How awkward is my present situation! promised to one, who, perhaps, may never Patty. Dear ma'am, how can you think a again be heard of; and who, I am sure, if body so mercenary! am I always teasing you he ever appears to claim me, will do it mereabout gowns and gew-gaws, and fal-lals and ly on the score of interest-pressed too by finery? Or do you take me for a conjuror, another, who has already, I fear, too much that nothing will come out of my mouth but interest in my heart-what can I do? What ribbons? I have told the story of our voyage, plan can I follow? indeed, to old Guzzle, the butler, who is very inquisitive; and, between ourselves, is the ugliest old quiz I ever saw in my life.

Nar. Well, well, I have seen him; pitted with the small-pox, and a red face.

Enter CAMPLEY.

Camp. Follow my advice, Narcissa, by all means. Enlist with me, under the best banners in the world. General Hymen for my Patty. Right, ma'am. It's for all the world money! little Cupid's his drummer: he has like his master's cellar, full of holes and li-been beating a round rub-a-dub on our hearts, quor. But, when he asks me what you and and we have only to obey the word of comI think of the matter, why I look wise, and mand, fall into the ranks of matrimony, and cry, like other wise people who have nothing march through life together. to say-All's for the best.

Nar. And, thus, you lead him to imagine am but little inclined to the match.

Patty. Lord, ma'am, how could that be? Why, I never said a word about Captain Campley.

I

Nar. Then consider our situation.

Camp. That has been duly considered. In short, the case stands exactly thus - your intended spouse is all for money: I am all for love: he is a rich rogue: I am rather a poor honest fellow. He would pocket your fortune; I will take you without a fortune in your pocket.

Nar. Hush! hush, for heaven's sake. Patty. Ay! there it is now. -There, ma'am, I'm as mute as a mackarel-That name stri- Nar. Oh! I am sensible of the favour, most kes me dumb in a moment. I don't know gallant Captain Campley; and my father, no how it is, but Captain Campley some how doubt, will be very much obliged to you. or other has the knack of stopping my mouth Camp. Aye, there's the devil of it! Sir oftener than any body else, ma'am. Christopher Curry's confounded good characNar. His name again!-Consider. Never ter- knocks me up at once. Yet I am not mention it; I desire you. acquainted with him, neither; not known to

him, even by sight; being here only as a private gentleman on a visit to my old relation, out of regimentals, and so forth; and not introduced to the Governor as other officers of the place but then the report of his hospitality-his odd, blunt, whimsical, friendship-his whole behaviour

Nar. All stare you in the face, eh, Campley? Camp. They do, till they put me out of countenance: but then again, when I stare you in the face, I can't think I have any reason to be ashamed of my proceedings-I stick here, between my love and my principle, like a song between a toast and a sentiment.

Nar. And, if your love and your principle were put in the scales, you doubt which would weigh most?

Camp. Oh, no! I should act like a rogue,

and let principle kick the beam: for love, Nar-commendcissa, is as heavy as lead, and, like a bullet

Trudge. Come along, Wows! Take care

from a pistol, could never go through the of your furs, and your feathers, my girl. heart, if it wanted weight.

Nar. Or rather like the pistol_itself,_that

Wows. Iss.

Trudge. That's right.-Somebody might

often goes off without any harm done. Your steal 'em perhaps. fire must end in smoke, I believe.

Camp. Never, whilst

Wows. Steal!-What that?

Trudge. Oh, lord! see what one loses by

Nar. Nay, a truce to protestations at pre-not being born in a Christian country. sent. What signifies talking to me, when Run. If you would, sir, but mention to you have such opposition from others? Why your master, the house that belongs to my hover about the city, instead of boldy attack-master; the best accommodations on the quay.ing the guard? Wheel about, captain! face the enemy! march! charge! rout 'em-Drive 'em before you, and then-

Camp. And then

Nar. Lud have mercy on the poor city!
Mars would oft, his conquest over,
To the Cyprian goddess yield;
Venus gloried in a lover,
Who, like him, could brave the field.
Mars would oft, etc.

In the cause of battles hearty,
Still the God would strive to prove,
He, who fac'd an adverse party,
Fittest was to meet his love.
Hear then, captains, ye who bluster,
Hear the God of war declare,
Cowards never can pass muster;
Courage only wins the fair.

Enter PATTY, hastily.

Trudge. What's your sign, my lad?

Run. The Crown, sir-Here it is. Trudge. Well, get us a room for half an hour, and we'll come: and hark'ee! let it be light and airy, d'ye hear? My master has been used to your open apartments lately.

sir.

Run. Depend on it.-Much obliged to you, [Exit. Wows. Who be that fine man? He great prince?

Trudge. A prince-Ha! ha!-No, not quite But how do you like this, Wows? Isn't it fine? a prince-but he belongs to the crown.

Wows. Wonder!

Trudge. Fine men, eh!

Wows. Iss! all white; like you.

Trudge. Yes, all the fine men are like me: as different from your people as powder and ink, or paper and blacking.

Wows. And fine lady-Face like snow. Trudge. What! the fine ladies' complexiPatty. Oh lud, ma'am, I'm frightened out ons? Oh, yes, exactly; for too much heat very of my wits! sure as I'm alive, ma'am, Mr. Ink- often dissolves 'em! Then their dress, too. le is not dead; I saw his man, ma'am, just Wows. Your countrymen dress so? now, coming ashore in a boat with other pas- Trudge. Belter, better, a great deal. Why, sengers, from the vessel that's come to the a young flashy Englishman will sometimes island. [Exit. carry a whole fortune on his back. But did Nar. [To Camp.] Look'ye, Mr. Campley, you mind the women? All here- and there; something has happened which makes me waive [Pointing before and behind] they have it ceremonies. If you mean to apply to my fa- all from us in England. And then the fine ther, remember that delays are dangerous. Camp. Indeed!

things they carry on their heads, Wowski. Wows. Iss. One lady carry good fish-so fine, she call every body to look at her. [Smiling Trudge. Pshaw! an old woman bawling Camp. Nay, then-Gad, I'm almost afraid flounders. But the fine girls we meet, here, too-but living in this state of doubt is tor- on the quay-so round, and so plump! ment. I'll e'en put a good face on the matter; cock my hat; make my bow; and try to reason the Governor into compliance. Faint heart never won a fair lady.

Nar. I mayn't be always in the same mind, you know.

Why should I vain fears dicover,

Prove a dying, sighing swain?

Wows. You not love me now.

Trudge. Not love you! Zounds, have not I given you proofs?

Wows. Iss. Great many: but now you get here, you forget poor Wowski!

Trudge. Not I: I'll stick to you like wax.

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.

I

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!

Plant. Come, come, I've heard your story from the ship.-Don't let's haggle; I'll 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 that 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 'compleold acquaintance: yet, for my own part, 1 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?

Christians..

Trudge. Oh, here he is at last.

[Exit.

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-I should avow my love for her.

Plant. Lord help you, for a merchant!-It'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 situation. 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 world. 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-bave 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. 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.

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. [Exil.

Yar. 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 me, Yarico.

Plant. Aye, aye, do so-Why what return 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!

[Exit.

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, and found but bad accommodations within, sir.

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

Our grotto was the sweetest place!

The bending boughs, with fragrance blow-
ing,

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;
Ab! think on this, and love me still.
[Exeunt

SCENE II.-SIR CHRISTOPHER CURRY'S. Trudge. Very well, sir. What a fine thing Enter SIR CHRISTOPHER and MEDIUM. 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 I 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. her-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