Yeo.—­Nay, but because he was a barber surgeon; for I myself learnt a touch of that trade, and thereby saved my life, as I will tell presently.  And I do think that a good mariner ought to have all knowledge of carnal and worldly cunning, even to tailoring and shoemaking, that he may be able to turn his hand to whatsoever may hap.

Sir Richard.—­Well spoken, fellow:  but let us have thy text without thy comments.  Forwards!

Yeo.—­Well, sir.  I was bred to the sea from my youth, and was with Captain Hawkins in his three voyages, which he made to Guinea for negro slaves, and thence to the West Indies.

Sir Richard.—­Then thrice thou wentest to a bad end, though Captain Hawkins be my good friend; and the last time to a bad end thou camest.

Yeo.—­No denying that last, your worship:  but as for the former, I doubt—­about the unlawfulness, I mean; being the negroes are of the children of Ham, who are cursed and reprobate, as Scripture declares, and their blackness testifies, being Satan’s own livery; among whom therefore there can be none of the elect, wherefore the elect are not required to treat them as brethren.

Sir Richard.—­What a plague of a pragmatical sea-lawyer have we here?  And I doubt not, thou hypocrite, that though thou wilt call the negroes’ black skin Satan’s livery, when it serves thy turn to steal them, thou wilt find out sables to be Heaven’s livery every Sunday, and up with a godly howl unless a parson shall preach in a black gown, Geneva fashion.  Out upon thee!  Go on with thy tale, lest thou finish thy sermon at Launceston after all.

Yeo.—­The Lord’s people were always a reviled people and a persecuted people:  but I will go forward, sir; for Heaven forbid but that I should declare what God has done for me.  For till lately, from my youth up, I was given over to all wretchlessness and unclean living, and was by nature a child of the devil, and to every good work reprobate, even as others.

Sir Richard.—­Hark to his “even as others”!  Thou new-whelped Pharisee, canst not confess thine own villainies without making out others as bad as thyself, and so thyself no worse than others?  I only hope that thou hast shown none of thy devil’s doings to Mr. Oxenham.

Yeo.—­On the word of a Christian man, sir, as I said before, I kept true faith with him, and would have been a better friend to him, sir, what is more, than ever he was to himself.

Sir Richard.—­Alas! that might easily be.

Yeo.—­I think, sir, and will make good against any man, that Mr. Oxenham was a noble and valiant gentleman; true of his word, stout of his sword, skilful by sea and land, and worthy to have been Lord High Admiral of England (saving your worship’s presence), but that through two great sins, wrath and avarice, he was cast away miserably or ever his soul was brought to the knowledge of the truth.  Ah, sir, he was a captain worth sailing under!