Sir Chr. Thank ye, thank ye; but I'm pretty much in his good graces, as it is; I don't know anybody he has a greater respect for.——
Re-enter Trudge.
Inkle. Now, sir, have you performed your message?
Trudge. Yes, I gave her the letter.
Inkle. And where is Yarico? did she say she'd come? didn't you do as you were ordered? didn't you speak to her?
Trudge. I cou'dn't, sir, I cou'dn't—I intended to say what you bid me—but I felt such a pain in my throat, I cou'dn't speak a word, for the soul of me; and so, sir, I fell a crying.
Inkle. Blockhead!
Sir Chr. 'Sblood, but he's a very honest blockhead. Tell me, my good fellow—what said the wench?
Trudge. Nothing at all, sir. She sat down with her two hands clasped on her knees, and looked so pitifully in my face, I could not stand it. Oh, here she comes. I'll go and find Wows: if I must be melancholy, she shall keep me company.