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, L. Inkle. Stay; come back. This soft fool, if uninstructed, may add to her distress: his drivelling sympathy may feed her grief, instead of soothing it.—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-ric-o!

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 a long while; I've half a year's wages too, due the 25th ult. due 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 live, and rot me, it 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, L.

Sir C. Well-shall I see the girl?

Inkle. She'll be here presently. One thing I had forgot: when she is your's, 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 conceal'd.

Sir C. 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 C. Thank ye, thank ye; but I'm pretty much in his good graces, as it is; I don't know any body he has a greater respect for.

Re-enter TRUDGE, L.

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 order'd? didn't you speak to her?

Trudge. I couldn't, Sir, I couldn't-I intended to say what you bid me-but I felt such a pain in my throat, I couldn't speak a word, for the soul of me; and so Sir, I fell a crying.

Tnkle. (c.) Block head!

Sir C. (R.) 'Sblood, but he's a very honest blockhead. Tell me, my good fellow-what said the wench?

Trudge. (L.) Nothing at all, Sir. She sat down with her two hands clasp'd on her knees, and look'd 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, L. Sir C. Od's my life, as comely a wench as ever I saw ! Enter YARICO, L., who looks for some time in Inkle's face, bursts into tears, and falls on his neck.

Inkle. (c.) In tears! uay, Yarico! why this?
Yar. (L.) 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.

Yarico. Ah! why not you protect me?

Inkle. I have no means-how can I?

Yar. 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 C. (R.) His life! Zounds! my blood boils at the scoundrel's ingratitude!

Yar. Come, come, let us 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 your's. See you obey this gentleman; 'twill be the better for you. [Going. [Puts Yarico across to c. Yar. (c.) O barbarous ! [Holding him.] Do not, do not abandon me!

Inkle. (L.) No more.

Far. Stay but a little: I shan't live long to be burden to you: Your cruelty has cut me to the heart. Protect ine but a little or I'll obey this man, and undergo all hardships for your good; stay but to witness them.-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 C. 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 C. 'Sdeath, sir, how dare you look an honest man in the face? [Crosses, c.

Inkle. (L.) Sir, you shall feel

Sir C. (c.) Feel!-It's more then ever you did, I be

E

lieve. 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 return 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 in

sult.

Sir C. 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, L.] Hollo! Young Multiplication! Zounds! I have been peeping in every cranny of the house. Why, young Rule-of-three! [Enters from the Inn, L. s. E.] 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 C. (c.) 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 C. 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 C. 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? mad before, and he has bit the other, I suppose.

One was

Sir C. But here comes the dear boy-the true boy-the jolly boy, piping hot from church, with my daughter.

Enter CAMPLEY, NARCISSA, and PATTY, R.

Med. Campley!

Sir C. Who? Campley ?-It's no such thing.
Camp. That's my name, indeed, Sir Christopher.
Sir C. The devil it is! And how came you, Sir, to im-

pose upon me, and assume the name of Inkle? a name which every man of honesty ought to be ashamed of.

Camp. [Crosses to Sir C.] I never did, Sir.-Since I sailed from England with your daughter, my affection has daily encreased: 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 undeceiv'd.

Sir C. And did you, Narcissa, join in—

Nar. How could I, my dear sir, disobey you?

Pat. 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 C. '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 demands very disagreeable.

Pat. Yes, Sir, I told my mistress he had brought over a Hotty-pot gentlewoman.

Sir C. 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, L. 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 Wow[Throwing her arms about Yarico.

ski.

Sir C. Poor girl! A companion, I take it!

Trudge. A thing of my own, Sir. I could'nt help fol