Trudge. Right! they'll think you've lived with people of fashion. But suppose you meet an old shabby friend in misfortune, that you don't wish to be seen speak to what would you do?

Wows. Look blind-not see him.
Trudge. Why would you do that?

Wows. 'Cause I can't see good friend in distress.

Trudge. That's a good girl! and I wish every body could boast of so kind a motive for such cursed cruel behaviour.-Lord! how some of your flashy bankers' clerks have cut me in Threadneedle-street. But come, though we have got among fine folks, here, in an English settlement, I won't be ashamed of my old acquaintance; yet, for my own part, I should not be sorry, now, to see my old friend with a new face.Odsbobs! I see Mr Inkle- o in, Wows; call for what you like best.

Wows. Then I call for you-ah! I fear I not see you often now. But you come soon

SONG.

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;
well, safe to our cell,
While tremblingly,

I led

you

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?

Trudge. Who have we here?

[Exit WoWSKI.

Enter FIRST PLANTER.

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

Indian

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. A black fair, ha! ha! ha! You hold it on a brown green, I suppose.

it,

Plant. She's your slave, I take it?

Trudge. Yes; and I'm her humble servant, I take

Plant. Aye, aye, natural enough at sea.—But at how much do you value her?

Trudge. Just as much as she has saved me-My own life.

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 fair as any trader amongst us. But no tricks upon travellers, young man, to raise your price.- Your wife, indeed! Why she's no Christian!

Trudge. No; but I am; so I shall do as I'd be done by and, if you were a good one yourself, you'd know, that fellow-feeling for a poor body, who wants your help, is the noblest mark of our religion

I wou'dn't be articled clerk to such a fellow for the world.

Plant. Hey-day! the booby's in love with her! Why, sure, friend, you would not live here with a black?

Trudge. Plague on't; there it is. I shall be laughed out of my honesty, here.-But you may be jogging, friend: I may feel a little queer, perhaps, at showing her face-but, damn me, if ever I do any thing to make me ashamed of showing my own.

Plant. Why, I tell you, her very complexion

Trudge. Rot her complexion!-I'll tell you what, Mr Fair-trader, if your head and heart were to change places, I've a notion you'd be as black in the face as an ink-bottle.

Plant. Pshaw! the fellow's a fool-a rude rascalhe ought to be sent back to the savages again. He's not fit to live among us Christians. [Exit PLAnter. Trudge. Oh, here comes my master, at last.

Enter INKLE, and a second PLanter.

Inkle. Nay, sir, I understand your customs well; your Indian markets are not unknown to me.

2d Plant. And, as you seem to understand business, I need not tell you, that dispatch 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 at noon, and we'll speak further on this subject and lest you think I trifle with your business, hear why I wish this pause. Chance threw me, on my passage to your island, among a savage people. Deserted, defenceless,-cut off from companions,-my life at stake, to this young creature I owe my preservation ;-she found me, like a dying bough, torn from its kindred branches; which, as it drooped, she moistened with her tears.

Plant. Nay, nay, talk like a man of this world.

Intle. Your patience.-And yet your interruption goes to my present feelings; for on our sail to this your island-the thoughts of time mispent-doubtfears for call it what you will-have much perplexed me; and as your spires arose, reflections still rose with them; for here, sir, lie my interests, great connexions, and other weighty matters-which now I need not mention

Plant. But which her presence here will mar.

Inkle. Even so and yet the gratitude I owe herPlant. 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.

Plant. Ay, ay, do so-Why, what return can the wench wish more than taking her from a wild, idle, savage people, and providing for her, here, with reputable hard work, in a genteel, polished, tender, Christian country?

Inkle. Well, sir, at noon

Plant. I'll meet you-but remember, young gentleman, you must get her off your hands-you must, indeed. I shall have her a bargain, I see that-your

servant!-Zounds, how late it is-but never be put out of your way for a woman-I must run-my wife will play the devil with me for keeping breakfast. [Exit. 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 is 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.

Trudge. Very well, sir. What a fine thing it is to turn one's back on a master, without running into a wolf's belly! One can follow one's nose on a message here, and be sure it won't be bit off by the way.

[Exit. Inkle. Let me reflect a little. Part with her!-My interest, honour, engagements to Narcissa, all demand it. My father's precepts too-I can remember, when I was a boy, what pains he took to mould me.School'd me from morn to night-and still the burden of his song was-Prudence! Prudence! Thomas, and you'll rise. His maxims rooted in my heart, and as I grew-they grew, till I was reckoned, among our friends, a steady, sober, solid, good young man; and all the neighbours called me the prudent Mr Thomas. And shall I now, at once, kick down the character which I have raised so warily?-Part with her-sell her? The thought once struck me in our cabin, as she lay sleeping by me; but, in her slumbers, she passed her arm round me, murmured a blessing on my name, and broke my meditations.