173. THE BLACKAMOOR. A certain man, having bought a blackamoor, was so simple as to think that the colour of his skin was only dirt and filth, which he had contracted for want of due care under his former master. This fault, he fancied, might easily be removed. So he ordered the poor black to be put into a tub, and was at a considerable charge in providing ashes, soap, and scrubbing brushes for the operation. To work they went, rubbing and scouring his skin all over, but to no manner of purpose; for when they had repeated their washings several times, and were grown quite weary, all they got by it was, that the wretched blackamoor caught cold and died. [more info]
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