Med. That you are, that you are, I'm sure. Lord! Lord! when we parted last, how I wished we were in a room together, if it were but the black hole! I have not been able to sleep o'nights for thinking of you. I've laid awake, and fancied I saw you sleeping your last, with your head in the lion's mouth, for a night-cap! and I've never seen a bear brought over to dance about the street, but I thought you might be bobbing up and down in its belly.
Inkle. I am very much obliged to you.
Med. Aye, aye, I am happy enough to find you safe and sound, I promise you. But, you have a fine prospect before you now, young man. I am come to take you with me to Sir Christopher, who is impatient to see you.
Inkle. To-morrow, I hear, he expects me.
Med. To-morrow! directly—this moment—in half a second.—I left him standing on tip-toe, as he calls it, to embrace you; and he's standing on tiptoe now in the great parlour, and there he'll stand till you come to him.
Inkle. Is he so hasty?
Med. Hasty! he's all pepper—and wonders you are not with him, before it's possible to get at him. Hasty, indeed! Why, he vows you shall have his daughter this very night.
Inkle. What a situation!
Med. Why, it's hardly fair just after a voyage. But come, bustle, bustle, he'll think you neglect him. He's rare and touchy, I can tell you; and if he once takes it into his head that you show the least slight to his daughter, it would knock up all your schemes in a minute.
Inkle. Confusion! If he should hear of Yarico! [Aside.]