Finch. I don't
whistle the more for that, nor long after canary-seed while I can get
good wholesome mutton--no, nor you can't catch me by throwing salt on
my tail. If you come to that, hadn't I a young man used to come after
me, they said courted me--his name was Lion, Francis Lion, a tailor;
but though he was fond enough of me, for all that he never offered to
eat me.

_Melesinda._ How fortunate that the discovery has been made before it
was too late! Had I listened to his deceits, and, as the perfidious
man had almost persuaded me, precipitated myself into an inextricable
engagement before----

_Maid._ No great harm if you had. You'd only have bought a pig in a
poke--and what then? Oh, here he comes creeping----

_Enter_ MR. H. _abject._

Go to her, Mr. Hogs--Hogs--Hogsbristles, what's your name? Don't be
afraid, man--don't give it up--she's not crying--only _summat_ has
made her eyes red--she has got a sty in her eye, I believe----
_(going.)_

_Melesinda._ You are not going, Betty?

_Maid._ O, Madam, never mind me--I shall be back in the twinkling of
a pig's whisker, as they say.

[_Exit._

_Mr. H._ Melesinda, you behold before you a wretch who would have
betrayed your confidence--but it was love that prompted him; who
would have trick'd you, by an unworthy concealment, into a
participation of that disgrace which a superficial world has agreed
to attach to a name--but with it you would have shared a fortune not
contemptible, and a heart--but 'tis over now. That name he is content
to bear alone--to go where the persecuted syllables shall be no more
heard, or excite no meaning--some spot where his native tongue has
never penetrated, nor any of his countrymen have landed, to plant
their unfeeling satire, their brutal wit, and national ill
manners--where no Englishmen--(Here_ MELESINDA, _who has been
pouting during this speech, fetches a deep sigh.)_ Some yet
undiscovered Otaheite, where witless, unapprehensive savages shall
innocently pronounce the ill-fated sounds, and think them not
inharmonious.

_Melesinda._ Oh!

_Mr. H._ Who knows but among the female natives might be found----

_Melesinda._ Sir! (_raising her head._)

_Mr. H._ One who would be more kind than--some Oberea--Queen Oberea.

_Melesinda._ Oh!

_Mr. H._ Or what if I were to seek for proofs of reciprocal esteem
among unprejudiced African maids, in Monomotopa?