Chapter 20

_LORD KIDNAPPER, CAPTAIN SQUIRES, and CHAPLAIN._

KIDNAPPER. These blacks are no small acquisition, them and the Tories we have on board will strengthen us vastly; the thoughts of emancipation will make 'em brave, and the encouragement given them by my proclamation, will greatly intimidate the rebels--internal enemies are worse than open foes.----

CHAPLAIN. Very true, My Lord; David prayed that he might be preserved from secret enemies.

KIDNAPPER. Aye, so I've heard, but I look upon this to be a grand manoeuvre in politics; this is making dog eat dog--thief catch thief--the servant against his master--rebel against rebel--what think you of that, parson?

CHAPLAIN. A house divided thus against itself cannot stand, according to scripture--My Lord, your observation is truly scriptural.

KIDNAPPER. Scripture? poh, poh--I've nothing to do with scripture--I mean politically, parson.

CHAPLAIN. I know it very well; sure, My Lord, I understand you perfectly.

KIDNAPPER. Faith that's all I care for; if we can stand our ground this winter, and burn all their towns that are accessible to our ships, and Colonel Connolly succeeds in his plan, there's not the least doubt but we shall have supplies from England very early in the spring, which I have wrote for; then, in conjunction with Connolly, we shall be able to make a descent where we please, and drive the rebels like hogs into a pen.

CHAPLAIN. And then gather them (as the scriptures say) as a hen gathereth her chickens.

KIDNAPPER. True, Mr. Scripture.

CAPTAIN SQUIRES. Very good, but you must take care of the hawks.

KIDNAPPER. What do you mean by the hawks, Captain?

CAPTAIN SQUIRES. I mean the shirt-men, the rifle-men, My Lord.

KIDNAPPER. Aye, damn 'em, hawks indeed; they are cursed dogs; a man is never safe where they are, but I'll take care to be out of their reach, let others take their chance, for I see they have no respect to persons--I suppose they wou'd shoot at me, if I were within their reach.

CHAPLAIN. Undoubtedly, they would be more fond of you than of a wild turkey; a parcel of ignorant, unmannerly rascals, they pay no more respect to a Lord than they wou'd to a devil.

KIDNAPPER. The scoundrels are grown so damn'd impudent too, that one can scarcely get a roasting pig now-a-days, but I'll be even with some of 'em by and by.

CHAPLAIN. I hope we shall get something good for our Christmas dinner--so much abstinence and involuntary mortification, cannot be good for the soul--a war in the body corporal is of more dangerous consequence than a civil war to the state, or heresy and schism to the church.

KIDNAPPER. Very true, parson--very true--now I like your doctrine--a full belly is better than an empty sermon; preach that doctrine;--stick to that text, and you'll not fail of making converts.

CHAPLAIN. The wisest of men said, there is nothing better, than that a man should enjoy that which he hath, namely, eat, drink, and be merry, if he can.

KIDNAPPER. You're very right--Solomon was no fool, they say--[_He sings._]

_Give me a charming lass, Twangdillo cries, I know no pleasure, but love's sweet joys._

CHAPLAIN. [_Sings._]

_Give me the bottle, says the red face sot, For a whore I'd not give six-pence, not a groat._

Yet two is better than one, my Lord, for the scriptures further say, if one be alone, how can there be heat? You seem to be converted to that belief, for you have a brace of them, as the Boatswain says.

KIDNAPPER. Ha, ha. It's a pity but you were a bishop, you have the scriptures so pat--now I'll go and take a short nap, meanwhile; Captain, if any thing new happens, pray order my servant to wake me.

CAPTAIN SQUIRES. I will, my Lord.

[_Exit KIDNAPPER._

CHAPLAIN. And you and I'll crack a bottle, Captain; (bring a bottle, boy!) 'tis bad enough to perish by famine, but ten thousand times worse to be chok'd for want of moisture. His Lordship and two more make three; and you and I and the bottle make three more, and a three-fold cord is not easily broken; so we're even with him.

CAPTAIN SQUIRES. With all my heart.--Boy, bear a hand!

TOM. Coming, sir.

CHAPLAIN. Tom, Tom!--make haste, you scoundrel!--fetch two bottles. I think we can manage it.

_Enter TOM with the bottles._

CHAPLAIN. That's right, Tom.--Now bring the glasses, and shut the door after you.

[_Exit TOM._