BOATSWAIN. Why, aye, that's true, please your honour, any port in a storm--if a man is to be hang'd, or have his throat cut, d' ye see--who are so fit to do it as his own slaves? especially as they're to have their freedoms for it; nobody can blame 'em, nor your honour neither, for you get them for half price, or nothing at all, d' ye see me, and that will help to lessen poor Owld England's taxes, and when you have done with 'em here, and they get their brains knock'd out, d' ye see, your honour can sell them in the West-Indies, and that will be something in your honour's pocket, d' ye see--well, ev'ry man to his trade--but, damn my impudence for all, I see your honour knows all about it--d' ye see. [_Exit BOATSWAIN._ SCENE III. _LORD KIDNAPPER returns to his state-room; the BOATSWAIN comes on deck and pipes._ All hands ahoy--hand a rope, some of you Tories, forward there, for his worship's reg'ment of black guards to come aboard. _Enter NEGROES._ BOATSWAIN. Your humble servant, Gentlemen, I suppose you want to see Lord Kidnapper?--Clear the gangway there of them Tyburn tulips. Please to walk aft, brother soldiers, that's the fittest birth for you, the Kidnapper's in the state-room, he'll hoist his sheet-anchor presently, he'll be up in a jiffin--as soon as he has made fast the end of his small rope athwart Jenny Bluegarter and Kate Common's stern posts. FIRST SAILOR. Damn my eyes, but I suppose, messmate, we must bundle out of our hammocks this cold weather, to make room for these black regulars to stow in, tumble upon deck, and choose a soft berth among the snow? SECOND SAILOR. Blast 'em, if they come within a cable's length of my hammock, I'll kick 'em to hell through one of the gun ports. BOATSWAIN. Come, come, brothers, don't be angry, I suppose we shall soon be in a warmer latitude--the Kidnapper seems as fond of these black regulars (as you call 'em, Jack) as he is of the brace of whores below; but as they come in so damn'd slow, I'll put him in the humour of sending part of the fleet this winter to the coast of Guinea, and beat up for volunteers, there he'll get recruits enough for a hogshead or two of New-England rum, and a few owld pipe-shanks, and save poor Owld-England the trouble and expense of clothing them in the bargain. FIRST SAILOR. Aye, BOATSWAIN, any voyage, so it's a warm one--if it's to hell itself--for I'm sure the devil must be better off than we, if we are to stay here this winter. SECOND SAILOR. Any voyage, so it's to the southward, rather than stay here at lazy anchor--no fire, nothing to eat or drink, but suck our frosty fists like bears, unless we turn sheep-stealers again, and get our brains knock'd out. Eigh, master cook, you're a gentleman now--nothing to do--grown so proud, you won't speak to poor folks, I suppose?