one way to
be honest, and the name of that is thrift.

KIT. Well, and that's my motto. I've left the ship; no more letters of
marque for me. Good-bye to Kit French, privateersman's mate; and
how-d'ye-do to Christopher, the coasting skipper. I've seen the very
boat for me: I've enough to buy her, too; and to furnish a good house,
and keep a shot in the locker for bad luck. So far, there's nothing to
gainsay. So far it's hopeful enough; but still there's Admiral Guinea,
you know--and the plain truth is that I'm afraid of him.

ARETHUSA. Admiral Guinea? Now, Kit, if you are to be true lover of
mine, you shall not use that name. His name is Captain Gaunt. As for
fearing him, Kit French, you're not the man for me, if you fear anything
but sin. He's a stern man because he's in the right.

KIT. He is a man of God; I am what he calls a child of perdition. I was
a privateersman--serving my country, I say; but he calls it pirate. He
is thrifty and sober; he has a treasure, they say, and it lies so near
his heart that he tumbles up in his sleep to stand watch over it. What
has a harum-scarum dog like me to expect from a man like him? He won't
see I'm starving for a chance to mend. "Mend," he'll say; "I'll be shot
if you mend at the expense of my daughter"; and the worst of it is, you
see, he'll be right.

ARETHUSA. Kit, if you dare to say that faint-hearted word again, I'll
take my ring off. What are we for but to grow better or grow worse? Do
you think Arethusa French will be the same as Arethusa Gaunt?

KIT. I don't want her better.

ARETHUSA. Ah, but she shall be!

KIT. Hark, here he is! By George, it's neck or nothing now. Stand by to
back me up.

SCENE III

_To these, GAUNT, C._

KIT (_with ARETHUSA'S hand_). Captain Gaunt, I have come to ask you for
your daughter.

GAUNT. Hum. (_He sits in his chair, L._)

KIT. I love her, and she loves me, sir. I've left the privateering. I've
enough to set me up and buy a tidy sloop--Jack Lee's; you know the boat,
Captain; clinker built, not four years old, eighty tons burthen, steers
like a child. I've put my mother's ring on Arethusa's finger; and if
you'll give us your blessing, I'll engage to turn over a new leaf, and
make her a good husband.

GAUNT. In whose strength, Christopher French?

KIT. In the strength of my good, honest love for her: as you did for her
mother, and my father for mine. And you know, Captain, a man can't
command the wind; but (excuse me,