And my stomach's so empty, my heart is quite full.
Heigho! that I—for hunger should die!
But, grave without meat, I must here meet my grave,
For my bacon, I fancy, I never shall save.
Oho! I shall ne'er save my bacon!
I can't save my bacon, not I!
Trudge. Hum! I was thinking——I was thinking, sir—if so many natives could be caught, how much they might fetch at the West India markets!
Inkle. Scoundrel! is this a time to jest?
Trudge. No, faith, sir! Hunger is too sharp to be jested with. As for me, I shall starve for want of food. Now you may meet a luckier fate: you are able to extract the square root, sir; and that's the very best provision you can find here to live upon. But I! [Noise at a distance.] Mercy on us! here they come again.
Inkle. Confusion! Deserted on one side, and pressed on the other, which way shall I turn?—This cavern may prove a safe retreat to us for the present. I'll enter, cost what it will.