A certain Man who had bought a Blackamoor said he was convinced that it
was all nonsense about black being the natural colour of his skin. "He
has been dirty in his habits," said he, "and neglected by his former
masters. Bring me some hot water, soap, and scrubbing-brushes, and a
little sand, and we shall soon see what his colour is."
So he scrubbed, and his servants scrubbed till they were all tired.
They made no difference in the colour of the Blackamoor; but the end of
it all was that the poor fellow caught cold and died.