Pew. No, ma’am, that ain’t good enough; you don’t bam old Pew. You never was in that parlour in your life.
Mrs. Drake. I never was! Well, I declare!
Pew. Well, then, if you was, where’s the chest? Beside the chimbley, hey? (Winking.) Beside the table with the ’oly Bible?
Mrs. Drake. No, sailor, you don’t get any information out of me.
Pew. What, ma’am? Not to old Pew? Why, my god-child showed it me herself, and I told her where she’d find my name—P, E, W, Pew—cut out on the stern of it; and sure enough she did. Why, ma’am, it was his old money-box when he was in the Guinea trade; and they do say he keeps the rhino in it still.
Mrs. Drake. No, sailor, nothing out of me! And if you want to know, you can ask the Admiral himself! (She crosses, L.)
Pew. Hey? Old girl fly? Then I reckon I must have a mate, if it was the parish bull.
SCENE II
To these, Kit, a little drunk
Kit (looking in over half-door). Mrs. Drake! Mother! Where are you? Come and welcome the prodigal!