Calib. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries; I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.—A curse upon the tyrant whom I serve! I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee.
Trinc. The poor monster is loving in his drink.
Calib. I pr'ythee let me bring thee where crabs grow; and I, with my long nails, will dig thee pig-nuts, shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how to snare the marmozet: I'll bring thee to clustered filberts. Wilt thou go with me?
Trinc. This monster comes of a good-natured race.—Is there no more of thy kin in this island?
Calib. Divine, here is but one besides myself; my lovely sister, beautiful and bright as the full moon!
Trinc. Where is she?
Calib. I left her clambering up a hollow oak, and plucking thence the dropping honey-combs.—Say, my king, shall I call her to thee?
Trinc. She shall swear upon the bottle too. If she proves handsome, she is mine.—Here, monster, drink again for thy good news; thou shalt speak a good word for me.
[Gives him the bottle.
Calib. Farewell, old master, farewell, farewell!