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 sha'n'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 sha'n'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; thenif 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? Trudge. Then [Whispering.] My master keeps a girl. Patty. Oh, monstrous! another woman? 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 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 oneeyed black boar, that grinned like a devil, came down the hill in a 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 penThe 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. Trudge. Yes, quite dark; but very elegant; like a Wedgwood teapot. 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. 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, And went in boots to see the play, I march'd the lobby, twirled my stick, The girls all cry'd, "He's quite the kick. |