SONG.
Why should I vain fears discover,
Prove a dying, sighing swain?
Why turn shilly-shally lover,
Only to prolong my pain?
When we woo the dear enslaver,
Boldly ask, and she will grant;
How should we obtain a favour,
But by telling what we want?
Enter Trudge and Wowski, (as from the ship), with a dirty runner to one of the inns.
Run. This way, sir; if you will let me recommend——
Trudge. Come along, Wows! Take care of your furs, and your feathers, my girl!
Wows. Iss.
Trudge. That's right.—Somebody might steal 'em, perhaps.
Wows. Steal!—What that?
Trudge. Oh Lord! see what one loses by not being born in a christian country.
Run. If you would, sir, but mention to your master, the house that belongs to my master; the best accommodations on the quay.—
Trudge. What's your sign, my lad?
Run. The Crown, sir.—Here it is.
Trudge. Well, get us a room for half an hour, and we'll come: and harkee! let it be light and airy, d'ye hear? My master has been used to your open apartments lately.
Run. Depend on it.—Much obliged to you, sir.
[Exit.
Wows. Who be that fine man? He great prince?
Trudge. A prince—Ha! ha!——No, not quite a prince—but he belongs to the Crown. But how do you like this, Wows? Isn't it fine?
Wows. Wonder!
Trudge. Fine men, eh?
Wows. Iss! all white; like you.
Trudge. Yes, all the fine men are like me. As different from your people as powder and ink, or paper and blacking.
Wows. And fine lady—Face like snow.
Trudge. What! the fine lady's complexions? Oh, yes, exactly; for too much heat very often dissolves 'em! Then their dress, too.
Wows. Your countrymen dress so?
Trudge. Better, better a great deal. Why, a young flashy Englishman will sometimes carry a whole fortune on his back. But did you mind the women? All here—and there; [Pointing before and behind.] they have it all from us in England.—And then the fine things they carry on their heads, Wowski.
Wows. Iss. One lady carry good fish——so fine, she call every body to look at her.
Trudge. Pshaw! an old woman bawling flounders. But the fine girls we meet, here, on the quay—so round and so plump!
Wows. You not love me now?
Trudge. Not love you! Zounds, have not I given you proofs?
Wows. Iss. Great many: but now you get here, you forget poor Wowski!
Trudge. Not I. I'll stick to you like wax.
Wows. Ah! I fear! What make you love me now?
Trudge. Gratitude, to be sure.
Wows. What that?
Trudge. Ha! this it is, now, to live without education. The poor dull devils of her country are all in the practice of gratitude, without finding out what it means; while we can tell the meaning of it, with little or no practice at all.—Lord, Lord, what a fine advantage christian learning is! Hark'ee, Wows!
Wows. Iss.
Trudge. Now we've accomplished our landing, I'll accomplish you. You remember the instructions I gave you on the voyage?
Wows. Iss.
Trudge. Let's see now—What are you to do, when I introduce you to the nobility, gentry, and others—of my acquaintance?
Wows. Make believe sit down; then get up.
Trudge. Let me see you do it. [She makes a low courtesy.] Very well! and how are you to recommend yourself, when you have nothing to say, amongst all our great friends?
Wows. Grin—show my teeth.
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—Go 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——