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Updated: June 15, 2025
On this occasion Pinkethman played Harlequin; Hippisley, Scaramouch; Milward, Charmante; and Chapman, Cinthio. The farce was put on as a first piece at Covent Garden, 14 February, 1739. Pinkethman was Harlequin; Rosco, Scaramouch; Arthur, the Doctor; Hallam, Charmante; Hall, Cinthio; Mrs. James, Mopsophil; Mrs. Vincent, Elaria; and the fair Bellamy, Bellemante.
I have no hesitation in admitting that," returned the pirate, with some bitterness; "I deserve to die, body and soul, and, after all, I don't see why I should seek so earnestly to delay the righteous doom." "Right, Rosco, right; you talk sense now, the doom is well deserved. Why, then, try to prevent me any longer from inflicting it when you know it is my duty to do so?"
"Dat's berry sad, massa, berry sad," returned Ebony, with a deep sigh, "but you no object sit on de straw for a bit an' let me rest. Dere now. You's growin' heavier every day, massa. I stick de torch here for light. Look, here you see I hab a few t'ings. Dis is one bit ob rope wid a loop on him." "And what may that be for?" asked Rosco, with some curiosity.
Captain Fitzgerald returned home to die, and with him died the memory of Rosco the pirate at least as far as public interest in his capture and punishment was concerned for some of the captain's papers were mislaid and lost and among them the personal description of the pirate, and the account of his various misdeeds. But Rosco himself did not die.
No sooner had Orlando and the negro passed round the cliff to which Rosco had directed them, than they beheld a sight which was well calculated to fill them with anxiety and alarm, for there stood Zeppa, panting and wrestling with one of the fiends that were in the habit of assailing him.
He did not speak or move when Rosco entered and sat down on the head of a cask near him. "Zeppa," he said, with intense earnestness, "as God shall be my judge, I did not mean to to throw to do this to your boy. It was done without my knowledge." "Hah!" burst from the stricken father; but nothing more, while he continued to gaze in the pirate captain's face.
As these thoughts coursed like lightning through the pirate's brain, he was suddenly startled by the sound of his own name. "And Rosco," said the madman, still looking steadily up into the sky, while a dark frown slowly gathered on his brow "Oh! God, curse no no, no. Forgive me, Lord, and forgive him, and save him from his sins." He stopped abruptly here, and looked confused.
It is true the grey hairs had increased in number, and there was a look, or, rather, an effect, of suffering in the fine face which nothing could remove; but much of the muscular vigour and the erect gait had been regained during those months when he had been so carefully and untiringly nursed by his son on Sugar-loaf Island. It was not so with the ex-pirate. Poor Rosco was a broken man.
"True; but that was in the hurry of the rising, and without orders from Rosco, as far as I know. Besides, mother, have you not often told me that God will never forsake His own children? Surely, then, He will not forsake father." "No, oh, no! the good Lord will never forsake him.
Take that and defend yourself. I will content myself with this." He caught up the heavy staff which he was in the habit of carrying with him in his mountain rambles. At the same instant Rosco seized the knife and flung it far into the bush. "See! I am still unarmed," he said. "True, but you are not the less guilty, Rosco, and you must die. It is my duty to kill you."
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