Trudge. A woman! [Aside.]—[Loud.] But let him come on; I'm ready—dam'me, I don't fear facing the devil himself—Faith it is a woman—fast asleep too.
Inkle. And beautiful as an angel!
Trudge. And egad! there seems to be a nice, little plump bit in the corner; only she's an angel of rather a darker sort.
Inkle. Hush! keep back—she wakes. [Yarico comes forward—Inkle and Trudge retire to opposite sides of the scene.]
SONG.—YARICO.
When the chace of day is done,
And the shaggy lion's skin,
Which for us, our warriors win,
Decks our cells at set of sun;