PEW (_calling after her_). Don't thank me, ma'am; thank the act of parleyment! Rum, fourpence; two penny pieces and a Willi'm-and-Mary tizzy makes a shilling; and a spade half-guinea is eleven and six (_re-enter MRS. DRAKE with supper, pipe, etc._); and a blessed majesty George the First crown-piece makes sixteen and six; and two shilling bits is eighteen and six; and a new half-crown makes--no it don't! O no! Old Pew's too smart a hand to be bammed with a soft tusheroon. MRS. DRAKE (_changing piece_). I'm sure I didn't know it, sailor. PEW (_trying new coin between his teeth_). In course you didn't, my dear; but I did, and I thought I'd mention it. Is that my supper, hey? Do my nose deceive me? (_Sniffing and feeling._) Cold duck? sage and onions? a round of double Gloster? and that noggin o' rum? Why, I declare if I'd stayed and took pot-luck with my old commander, Cap'n John Gaunt, he couldn't have beat this little spread, as I've got by act of parleyment. MRS. DRAKE (_at knitting_). Do you know the captain, sailor? PEW. Know him? I was that man's bo'sun, ma'am. In the Guinea trade, we was known as "Pew's Cap'n" and "Gaunt's Bo'sun," one for the other like. We was like two brothers, ma'am. And a excellent cold duck, to be sure; and the rum lovely. MRS. DRAKE. If you know John Gaunt, you know his daughter Arethusa. PEW. What? Arethusa? Know her, says you? know her? Why, Lord love you, I was her godfather. ("Pew," says Jack Gaunt to me, "Pew," he says, "you're a man," he says; "I like a man to be a man," says he, "and damme," he says, "I like _you_; and sink me," says he, "if you don't promise and vow in the name of that new-born babe," he says, "why, damme, Pew," says he, "you're not the man I take you for.") Yes, ma'am, I named that female; with my own 'ands I did; Arethusa I named her; that was the name I give her; so now you know if I speak true. And if you'll be as good as get me another noggin of rum, why, we'll drink her 'elth with three times three. (_Exit MRS. DRAKE; Pew eating; MRS. DRAKE re-entering with rum._) MRS. DRAKE. If what you say be true, sailor (and I don't say it isn't, mind!), it's strange that Arethusa and that godly man her father have never so much as spoke your name.