PEW. Lord love you, if I’d a-had a ’ed like yours! Why the Admiral was my first cap’n. I was that man’s bo’sun, I was, aboard the _Arethusa_; and we was like two brothers. Did you never hear of Guinea-land and the black ivory business? (_sings_)— ‘A quick run to the south we had, and when we made the Bight We kept the offing all day long and crossed the bar at night. Six hundred niggers in the hold and seventy we did stow, And when we’d clapped the hatches on, ’twas time for us to go.’ Lay forward, lads! KIT _and_ PEW (_in chorus_)— ‘Time for us to go,’ etc. KIT. I say, Pew, I like you; you’re a damned ugly dog; but I like you. But look ye here, Pew: fair does it, you know, or we part company this minute. If you and the Ad—the Admirable were like brothers on the Guinea coast, why aren’t you like brothers here? PEW. Ah, _I_ see you coming. What a ’ed! what a ’ed! Since Pew is a friend of the family, says you, why didn’t he sail in and bear a hand, says you, when you was knocking the Admiral’s ship about his ears in argyment? KIT. Well, Pew, now you put a name to it, why not? PEW. Ah, why not? There I recko’nise you. [Well, see here: argyment’s my weakness, in a manner of speaking; I wouldn’t a-borne down and spiled sport, not for gold untold, no, not for rum, I wouldn’t! And besides, Commander, I put it to you, as between man and man, would it have been seaman-like to let on and show myself to a old shipmate, when he was yard-arm to yard-arm with a craft not half his metal, and getting blown out of water every broadside? Would it have been ’ansome? I put it to you, as between man and man. KIT. Pew, I may have gifts; but I never thought of that. Why, no: not seaman-like. Pew, you’ve a heart; that’s what I like you for. PEW. Ah, that I have: you’ll see. I wanted—now you follow me—I wanted to keep square with Admiral Guinea.] Why? says you. Well, put it that I know a fine young fellow when I sees him; and put it that I wish him well; and put it, for the sake of argyment, that the father of that lovely female’s in my power. Aha? Pew’s Power! Why, in my ’ands he’s like this pocket ’andke’cher. Now, brave boy, do you see? KIT. No, Pew, my head’s gone; I don’t see. PEW. Why, cheer up, Commander! You want to marry this lovely female? KIT. Ay, that I do; but I’m not fit for her, Pew; I’m a drunken dog, and I’m not fit for her. PEW. Now, Cap’n, you’ll allow a old seaman to be judge: one as sailed with ’Awke and blessed Benb— with ’Awke and noble Anson. You’ve been open and above-board with me, and I’ll do the same by you: it being the case that you’re hard hit about a lovely woman, which many a time and oft it has happened to old Pew; and him with a feeling ’art that bleeds for you, Commander; why look here: I’m that girl’s godfather; promised and vowed for her, I did; and I like you; and you’re the man for her; and, by the living Jacob, you shall splice!