[_Shewing how to slip the scales._

MURPHEY.

By Jupiter, it's artfully contriv'd;
And was I King, I swear I'd knight th' Inventor.
--Tom, mind the Part that you will have to act.

TOM.

Ah, never fear, I'll do as well as Jack.
But then, you know, an honest Servant's Pains
Deserve Reward.

MURPHEY.

O! I'll take care of that.

_Enter a number of INDIANS with packs of fur._

1ST INDIAN.

So, what you trade with Indians here to-day?

M'DOLE.

Yes, if my Goods will suit, and we agree.

2ND INDIAN.

'Tis Rum we want, we're tired, hot, and thirsty.

3RD INDIAN.

You, Mr. Englishman, have you got Rum?

M'DOLE.

Jack, bring a Bottle, pour them each a Gill.
You know which Cask contains the Rum. The Rum?

1ST INDIAN.

It's good strong Rum, I feel it very soon.

M'DOLE.

Give me a Glass. Here's Honesty in Trade;
We English always drink before we deal.

2ND INDIAN.

Good Way enough; it makes one sharp and cunning.

M'DOLE.

Hand round another Gill. You're very welcome.

3RD INDIAN.

Some say you Englishmen are sometimes Rogues;
You make poor Indians drunk, and then you cheat.

1ST INDIAN.

No, English good. The Frenchmen give no Rum.

2ND INDIAN.

I think it's best to trade with Englishmen.

M'DOLE.

What is your Price for Beaver Skins per Pound?

1ST INDIAN.

How much you ask per Quart for this strong Rum?

M'DOLE.

Five Pounds of Beaver for One Quart of Rum.

1ST INDIAN.

Five Pounds? Too much. Which is 't you call Five Pound?

M'DOLE.

This little Weight. I cannot give you more.

1ST INDIAN.

Well, take 'em; weigh 'em. Don't you cheat us now.

M'DOLE.

No: He that cheats an Indian should be hang'd. [_Weighing the packs._
There's Thirty Pounds precisely of the Whole;
Five times Six is Thirty. Six Quarts of Rum.
Jack, measure it to them: you know the Cask.
This Rum is sold. You draw it off the best.
[_Exeunt INDIANS to receive their rum._

MURPHEY.

By Jove, you've gain'd more in a single Hour
Than ever I have done in Half a Year;
Curse on my Honesty! I might have been
A little King, and liv'd without Concern,
Had I but known the proper Arts to thrive.

M'DOLE.

Ay, there's the Way, my honest Friend, to live.
[_Clapping his shoulder._
There's Ninety Weight of Sterling Beaver for you,
Worth all the Rum and Trinkets in my Store;
And, would my Conscience let me to the Th