ARETHUSA. Who comes here? a seaman by his song, and father out! (_She tries the air_) ‘Time for us to go!’ It sounds a wild kind of song. (_Tap-tap_; PEW _passes the window_.) O, what a face—and blind! PEW (_entering_). Kind Christian friends, take pity on a poor blind mariner, as lost his precious sight in the defence of his native country, England, and God bless King George! ARETHUSA. What can I do for you, sailor? PEW. Good Christian lady, help a poor blind mariner to a mouthful of meat. I’ve served His Majesty in every quarter of the globe; I’ve spoke with ’Awke and glorious Anson, as I might with you; and I’ve tramped it all night long, upon my sinful feet, and with a empty belly. ARETHUSA. You shall not ask bread and be denied by a sailor’s daughter and a sailor’s sweetheart; and when my father returns he shall give you something to set you on your road. PEW. Kind and lovely lady, do you tell me that you are in a manner of speaking alone? or do my ears deceive a poor blind seaman? ARETHUSA. I live here with my father, and my father is abroad. PEW. Dear, beautiful, Christian lady, tell a poor blind man your honoured name, that he may remember it in his poor blind prayers. ARETHUSA. Sailor, I am Arethusa Gaunt. PEW. Sweet lady, answer a poor blind man one other question: are you in a manner of speaking related to Cap’n John Gaunt? Cap’n John as in the ebony trade were known as Admiral Guinea? ARETHUSA. Captain John Gaunt is my father. PEW (_dropping the blind man’s whine_). Lord, think of that now! They told me this was where he lived, and so it is. And here’s old Pew, old David Pew, as was the Admiral’s own bo’sun, colloguing in his old commander’s parlour, with his old commander’s gal (_seizes_ ARETHUSA). Ah, and a bouncer you are, and no mistake. ARETHUSA. Let me go! how dare you? PEW. Lord love you, don’t you struggle, now, don’t you. (_She escapes into front R. corner_, _where he keeps her imprisoned_.) Ah, well, we’ll get you again, my lovely woman. What a arm you’ve got—great god of love—and a face like a peach! I’m a judge, I am. (_She tries to escape; he stops her_.) No, you don’t; O, I can hear a flea jump! [But it’s here where I miss my deadlights. Poor old Pew; him as the ladies always would have for their fancy man and take no denial; here you are with your commander’s daughter close aboard, and you can’t so much as guess the colour of her lovely eyes. (_Singing_)— ‘Be they black like ebony; Or be they blue like to the sky.’