Med. Damn me, but he's mad! The woods have turned the poor boy's brains; he's scalped, and gone crazy! Hoho! Inkle! Nephew! Gad, I'll spoil your arithmetic, I warrant me.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
The Quay.
Enter Sir Christopher Curry.
Sir Chr. Ods, my life! I can scarce contain my happiness. I have left them safe in church, in the middle of the ceremony. I ought to have given Narcissa away, they told me; but I capered about so much for joy, that Old Spintext advised me to go and cool my heels on the quay, till it was all over. Ods I'm so happy; and they shall see, now, what an old fellow can do at a wedding.
Enter Inkle.
Inkle. Now for dispatch! Hark'ee, old gentleman! [To the Governor.]
Sir Chr. Well, young gentleman?
Inkle. If I mistake not, I know your business here.