Plume. Will you list with me if I give up my title?
Syl. I will.
Plume. Take her; I'll change a woman for a man at any time.
Rose. I have heard before, indeed, that you captains used to sell your men.
Bul. Pray, captain, do not send Rouse to the Western Indies.
Plume. Ha! ha! ha! West Indies! No, no, my honest lad, give me thy hand; nor you nor she shall move a step farther than I do. This gentleman is one of us, and will be kind to you, Mrs. Rose.
Rose. But will you be so kind to me, sir, as the captain would?
Syl. I can't be altogether so kind to you; my circumstances are not so good as the captain's; but I'll take care of you, upon my word.
Plume. Ay, ay, we'll all take care of her; she shall live like a princess, and her brother here shall be—What would you be?
Bul. Oh, sir, if you had not promised the place of drum-major!