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.