Inkle and Yarico: An opera, in three acts

by George Colman

Wows. 'Cause I can't help cry——

Sir Chr. Then, if that's the case—curse me, if I think I'm very glad either. What the plague's the matter with my eyes?—Young man, your hand—I am now proud and happy to shake it.

Med. Well, Sir Christopher, what do you say to my hopeful nephew now?

Sir Chr. Say! Why, confound the fellow, I say, that is ungenerous enough to remember the bad action of a man who has virtue left in his heart to repent it—As for you, my good fellow, [To Trudge.] I must, with your master's permission, employ you myself.

Trudge. O rare!—Bless your honour!—Wows! you'll be lady, you jade, to a governor's factotum.

Wows. Iss—I Lady Jactotum.

Sir Chr. And now, my young folks, we'll drive home, and celebrate the wedding. Od's my life! I long to be shaking a foot at the fiddles, and I shall dance ten times the lighter, for reforming an Inkle, while I have it in my power to reward the innocence of a Yarico.

FINALE.

[La Belle Catharine.]