Pew. A Christian man, is he? Where does he keep his rum?
Arethusa. Nay, you shall steal nothing by my help.
Pew. No more I shall (becoming amorous). You’re a lovely woman, that’s what you are; how would you like old Pew for a sweetheart, hey? He’s blind, is Pew, but strong as a lion; and the sex is his ’ole delight. Ah, them beautiful, beautiful lips! A kiss! Come!
Arethusa. Leave go, leave go!
Pew. Hey? you would?
Arethusa. Ah! (She thrusts him down, and escapes to door, R.)
SCENE VII
Pew (picking himself up). Ah, she’s a bouncer, she is! Where’s my stick? That’s the sort of female for David Pew. Didn’t she fight? and didn’t she struggle? and shouldn’t I like to twist her lovely neck for her? Pew’s way with ’em all: the prettier they was, the uglier he were to ’em. Pew’s way: a way he had with him; and a damned good way too. (Listens at L. door.) That’s her bedroom, I reckon; and she’s double-locked herself in. Good again: it’s a crying mercy the Admiral didn’t come in. But you always loses your ’ed, Pew, with a female: that’s what charms ’em.—Now for business. The front door. No bar; on’y a big lock (trying keys from his pocket). Key one; no go. Key two; no go. Key three; ah, that does it. Ah! (feeling key) him with the three wards and the little ’un: good again! Now if I could only find a mate in this rotten country ’amlick: one to be eyes to me; I can steer, but I can’t conn myself, worse luck! If I could only find a mate. And to-night about three bells in the middle watch, old Pew will take a little cruise, and lay aboard his ancient friend the Admiral; or, barring that, the Admiral’s old sea-chest—the chest he kept the shiners in aboard the brig. Where is it, I wonder? in his berth, or in the cabin here? It’s big enough, and the brass bands is plain to feel by. (Searching about with stick.) Dresser—chair (knocking his head on the cupboard). Ah!—O, corner cupboard. Admiral’s chair—Admiral’s table—Admiral’s—hey! what’s this?—a book—sheepskin—smells like a ’oly Bible. Chair (his stick just avoids the chest). No sea-chest. I must have a mate to see for me, to see for old Pew: him as had eyes like a eagle! Meanwhile, rum. Corner cupboard, of course (tap-tapping). Rum—rum—rum. Hey? (He listens.) Footsteps. Is it the Admiral? (With the whine.) Kind Christian friends——
SCENE VIII
Pew; to him, Gaunt