M’Dole. No; He that cheats an Indian should be hanged.
[Weighing the Packs.
There’s Thirty Pounds precisely of the Whole;
Five times Six is Thirty. Six Quarts of Rum.
Jack, measure it to them; you know the Cask.
This Rum is sold. You draw it off the best.
[Exeunt Indians to receive their Rum.
Murphey. By Jove, you’ve gained more in a single Hour
Than ever I have done in Half a Year:
Curse on my Honesty! I might have been
A little King, and lived without Concern,
Had I but known the proper Arts to thrive.
M’Dole. Ay, there’s the Way, my honest Friend, to live.
[Clapping his shoulder.
There’s Ninety Weight of Sterling Beaver for you,
Worth all the Rum and Trinkets in my Store;
And, would my Conscience let me do the Thing,
I might enhance my Price, and lessen theirs,
And raise my Profits to a higher Pitch.
Murphey. I can’t but thank you for your kind Instructions,
As from them I expect to reap Advantage.
But should the Dogs detect me in the Fraud,
They are malicious, and would have Revenge.
M’Dole. Can’t you avoid them? Let their Vengeance light
On others Heads, no matter whose, if you
Are but Secure, and have the Gain in Hand;
For they’re indiff’rent where they take Revenge,
Whether on him that cheated, or his Friend,
Or on a Stranger whom they never saw,
Perhaps an honest Peasant, who ne’er dreamt
Of Fraud or Villainy in all his Life;
Such let them murder, if they will, a Score,
The Guilt is theirs, while we secure the Gain,
Nor shall we feel the bleeding Victim’s Pain.