Trudge. Pa—part with Ma—madam Ya-ri-co!
Inkle. Why does the blockhead stammer!—I have my reasons. No muttering—And let me tell you, sir, if your rare bargain were gone too, 'twould be the better: she may babble our story of the forest, and spoil my fortune.
Trudge. I'm sorry for it, sir; I have lived with you along while; I've half a year's wages too, due the 25th ult. for dressing your hair, and scribbling your parchments; but take my scribbling; take my frizzing; take my wages; and I, and Wows, will take ourselves off together—she saved my life, and rot me, if any thing but death shall part us.
Inkle. Impertinent! Go, and deliver your message.
Trudge. I'm gone, sir. Lord, Lord! I never carried a letter with such ill will in all my born days.
[Exit.
Sir Chr. Well—shall I see the girl?
Inkle. She'll be here presently. One thing I had forgot: when she is yours, I need not caution you, after the hints I've given, to keep her from the Castle. If Sir Christopher should see her, 'twould lead, you know, to a discovery of what I wish concealed.
Sir Chr. Depend upon me—Sir Christopher will know no more of our meeting, than he does at this moment.
Inkle. Your secrecy shall not be unrewarded; I'll recommend you, particularly, to his good graces.