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Kitty. But, madam ; was not you saying just Enter Sir John, observing them. now, that it was the fashion for the ladies to paint theniselves?

Kitty. And is not this a very pretty cap, too? Mrs. Starch. Yes.

Does not it become me? Kitty. Well, that is pure; then one may be

Mrs. Starch. Yes, madam. as handsoine as ever one will, you know. And

Kitty. But don't you think this hoop a little if it was not for a few freckles, I believe

too big? should be very well; should not I, Mrs. Starch?

Sir John. No, no; too big! no. Not above sis JIrs. Starch. Indeed, madam, you are very

or seven yards round. handsome.

Mrs. Starch. Indeed, sir, 'tis within the cir. Kitty. Nay, don't flatter me now; do

cumference of the mode a great deal.

you really think I am handsome?

Sir John. That it may be, but I'm sure it's beMrs. Starch. Upon my word, you are. What yond the circumference of modesty a great deal. a shape is there! What a genteel air! What a

Kitty. Lord, papa, can't you dress yourself as sparkling eye!

you've a mind, and let us alone? How should Kitty. Indeed, I doubt you flatter me. Not you know any thing of womens' fashions? Come, but I have an eye, and can make use of it

let us go into the next room.

too, as well as the best of them, if I please.

[Exeunt Miss Kutty and Mrs. STARCH. SONG.

Enter Joe with GREENWOOD.
Though born in a country town,

Joe. Sir, here's one that you'll be very glad to
The beauties of London unknown,
My heart is as tender,

Sir John. Who is it?-What, honest Green-
My waist is as slender,

wood ! May I believe my eyes? My skin is as white,

Green. Sir, I am very glad to see you; I hope My eyes are as bright

all your family are well. As the best of them all,

Sir John. Very well. But, for leaven's sake, That twinkle ör sparkle at court or at ball. what has brought thee to London? What's the I can ogle and sigh,

meaning of this livery? I don't understand thee. Then frown and be coy;

Green. I don't wonder that you are surprised? False sorrow,

but I will explain myself. You know the faithNow borrow,

ful, honest love I bear your daughter; and you And rise in a rage ;

are sensible, since the addresses of Sir Timothy Tken languish,

Flash, how much ber falsehood has grieved me; In anguish,

yet more for her sake, even than my own : my And softly, and softly engage.

own unhappiness I could endure with patience,

but the thoughts of seeing her reduced to shame But pray, Mrs. Starch, which do you think the and misery, I cannot bear. most genteel walk now? To trip it away o'this

Sir John. What dost thou mean? manner, or to swim sinovthly along thus? Green. I very much suspect his designs upon

Mrs. Starch. They both become you extreme- her are not honcurable. ly.

Sir John. Not honourable ! he dare not wrong Kitty. Do they really ? I'm glad you think so, me so ! -But, go on. fur, indeed, I believe, you are a very good judge. Green. Immediately after you had left the And, now I think on't, I'll have your opinion in country, hearing that he was hastening to Lonsomething else. What do you think it is that don after you, and wanted a servant, I went and makes a fine lady?

offered myself, resolving, by a strict watch on all Mrs. Starch. Why, madam, a fine person, fine his actions, to prevent, if possible, the ruin of wit, fine airs, and fine clothes.

her I cannot but love, how ill soever I have been Kitty. Well

, you have told me already that treated. Not knowing me to be his rival, he I'm very handsome, you know, so that's one brought me along with him. We arrived in Lour thing ; but, as for wit, what's that? I don't know don yesterday, and I am now sent by him to gire what that is, Mrs. Starch.

your daughter privately this letter. Mrs. Starch. O madam, wit is, as one may say

Sir John. What can it tend to? I know not -the-the being very witty; that is what to think; but if I find he dares to inean me comical as it were; doing something to make wrong, by this good handevery body laugh.

Green. Then let me tell ye, he means you Kitty. O, is that all? nay, then, I can be as villainous wrong. The ruin of your daughter is witty as any body, for I am very comical. Well, contrived; I heard the plot; and this very letter but sv bat's the next? fine airs: 0, let me alone is to put it in execution. for fine airs; I have airs enough, if I can but get Sir John. What shall I do? lorers to practise them upon. And then, fine Green. Leave all co me. I'll deliver the leta clothes; why, these are very fine clothes, I think; ter, and, by her behaviour, we shall know better don't you think so, Mrs. Starch?

how to take our measures. But how shall I see Mrs. Starch. Yes, madawa.

her?

Sir John. She is in the next room; I'll go in Are much below me now. and send her to you.

If ever I wed, Green. If you tell her who it is, perhaps she I'll hold up my head, will not be scen.

And be a fine lady, I vow. Sir John. I won't.

[Erit. And so, sir, your very humble servant. Enter Miss KITTY.

Green. Nay, madam, you shall not leave me Kitty. Bless me! is not that Sir Timothy's li yet; I have somethiug more to say before we

Suppose this worthy, honourable knight, very! | Aside.]— Pray, sir, is Sir Timothy Flash instead of marriage, should have only a base deconie to town.

sign upon your virtue? Green. Yes, madam.

Kilty. Ple scorns it: No, he loves me, and I Kitty. Good lack! is it you? What new w him know lie will marry me. have vou got in your head now, pray? Green. No new whim in my head, but an old he will not.

Green. Dear Kitty, be not deceived; I know one in my heart, which, I am afraid, will not be

Kitty. You know nothing of the matter. easily removed.

Greon. Read that, and be convinced. Kitty. Indeed, young man, I am sorry for it ;

[She reads. but you have had my answer already, and I wonder you should trouble me again.

My dear angel, Green. And is it thus you receive me! Is this ' I could no longer stay in the country, when the reward of all my faithful love?

you uus not there to make it agreeable. I cume Kitty. Can I help your being in love? I'm to toxon yesterday; and heg, at possible, you will, sure I don't desire it'; I wish you would not teaze this crening, make me happy with your company. me with your impertinent love any more. I will meet you at a relation's; my servant will

Green. Why, then, did you encourage it ? For, conduct you to the house. I am impatient till I give me leave to say, you once did love me. throw myself into your arns, and convince you

Kitty. Perbaps I might, when I thought my-how much I am, self but your equal; but now, I think, you can * Your fond and passionate admirer, not, in modesty, pretend to me any longer.

• TIMOTHY Flash.' Green. Vain, foolish girl! for lieaven's sake, what alteration do you find in yourself for the Kitty. Well, and what is there in this to conbetter? In what, I wonder, does the fine lady vince me of his ill intentions? differ from the miller's daughter? Ilave you more I. Green. Enough, I think. If his designs are wit, more sense, or more virtue than you bad be- honourable, why are they not open? Why does fore? Or are you in any thing altered from your lie not come to your father's house, and make former self, except in pride, folly, and affecta- bis proposals ? Why are you to be met in the tion?

dark, at a stranger's Kitty. Sir, let me tell you, these are liberties Kitty. Let me seem, I'll meet you at a relathat don't become you at all. Miller's daughter! tion's; my servant will conduct you ;'-indeed

Green. Come, come, Kitty; for shame! lay I don't know what to thiuk of that. aside these foolish airs of the fine lady; return Green. I'll tell, you, madam ; that pretended to yourself, and let me ask you one serious relation is a notorious bawd. question : Do you really think Sir Timothy de Kitty. 'Tis false; you have contrived this story signs to marry you!

to abuse me. Kitty. You are very impertinent to ask me Green. No, Kitty, so well I love you, that, if such a question; but, to silencc your presuinp- I thought his designs were just, I could rejoice tion for ever-I'm sure he designs it.

in your happiness, though at the expense of my Green. I'm glad she thinks so, however. own. [Aside.] Nay, then, I do not expect you will re Kitly. You strangely surprise me! I wish I sign the flattering prospect of wealth and gran- knew the truth. deur, to live in a cottage on a little farm. Tis. Green. To convince you of my truth, here is true, I shall be independent of all the world; my a direction to the house in his own hand, which farm, however small, will be my own unmort- he himself gave me, lest I should mistake: Whigaged.

ther, if you still doubt my sincerity, and think Kitty. Psha! can you buy me fine clothes? proper to go, I am ready to be your

conductor. Can you keep me a coach? Can you make me a Kitty. And is this the end of all his designs ? lady? If not, I advise you to go down again to have I been courted only to my ruin? my eyes your pitiful farm, and marry somebody suitable are now too clearly opened. What have I been to your rank.

doing?

Green. If you are but so convinced of your SONG,

danger, as to avoid it, I am satisfied. Adicu to your cart and your plough ;

Enter Sir Johx.
I scorn to milk
Your turkeys and geese,

Sir John. What do I hear? Are you recon
Your butter and cheese,

ciled, then?

your cow.

.

kinifty.

a

· Kitty, My dear father! I have been cheated poem in praise of that virtue, which I beg leave and abused?

to present to you, and hope you will receive it Sir John. I hope your virtue is untouched ?

[Gives him the poem. Kitty. That I will always preserve.

Sir John. Sir, I am not used to these things : Sir John. Then I forgive you any thing. But I don't understand them at all; but let's see how shall we be revenged on this scoundrel (Sir John rends.] A poem in praise of the inknight?

compurable sincerity and uncommon honesty of kitty. Contrive but that, and I am easy. the uorthy Sir John Cockle, &c. -- Enougli

, Green. As his base designs have not been exe-enough!--a poem in praise of sincerity, with a cuted, I think, it we could expose and laugh at fulsome compliment in the very title, is extraorhim, it would be sufficient punishment. dinary indeed! Sir, I am obliged to you for your

Sir John. If it could be done severely. kind intentions; your wit and your poctrv may

Kitty. I think it may. I believe I have found be very fine, for ought I know; but a little more. out a way to be revenged on hơn; come with me common sense, I believe, could do you no harm. into the next room, and we'll put it in execution. King. He is not to be flattered, I find; but Enter a Servant.

I'll try what bribery will do. That, I'm afraid,
hits
every

body's taste. [ Aside.}-Shall I beg one Ser. Sir, a gentleman desires to speak with word more with you? Sir, you are a gentleman you.

of the greatest sincerity and honour I ever met Sir John. I'll come to him. Go you together, with, and, for that reason, I shall always have d'ye hear, and contrive your design.

the highest regard for you in the world, and for. [They go out severally. all that belongs to you. I hear your daughter is

going to be niarried; let me beg leave to present SCENE III. - Another Room.

her with this diamond buckle.

Sir John. Sir, you surprise me very much; Enter Sir John and the King, disguised as a

pray,
wbat
may

the value of this be?
collegiate.

King. That's not worth mentioning—about Sir John. No compliments, I tell ye, but come five hundred pounds, I believe. to the point: What is your business?

Sir John. Why, did not you tell me, just now, King. As I

appear to

you
in the habit of that

you

had spent all your fortune? collegiate, you may fancy I am some queer pe king. I did so : but it was for a particular dantic fellow; but I assure you, I am a person of reason ; and you shall fivd I am not so poor as I some birth, and had a liberal education. I have represented myself. seen the world, and kept the best company. But Sir John. I am glad of it. But, pray, how am living a little too freely, and having spent the I to return this extraordinary generosity? greatest part of my fortune on women and wine, Kiny. I expect no return, sir, upon my hoI was persuaded, by a certain nobleman, to take nour; though you have it in your power to orders, and he would give me a living, which he oblige me very much. said was coming into his hands. I was just clos Sir John. Don't mention the living, for that I ing with the proposal, when the spiteful incum- have told you already you are not fit for. bent recovered, and I was disappointed.

king. I won't. But there is a certain place Sir John. Well, and what's all this to me. at court of another kind, which I have long King. Why, sir, there is a living now fallen, had a mind to : Tis true, there is a sorry, insigwhich is in the king's gift, and I hear you have nificant tellow in possession of it at present; but so good an interest with his majesty, that I am he's of no service, and I know your power with persuaded a word from you, in my favour, would the king; a word or two from you would soon be of great service to me.

dispossess him. Sir John. And what inust that word be, pray?

Sir John. But what must he be dispossessed King. Nay, that I leave to you.

fur? Sir John. You are in the right; and I'll tell King. To make room for me, that's all. you what it shall be. That you, being a sense

Sir John. Hum-Indeed it won't do with less, idle-headed fellow, and having ruined your-me-bere, take it again; and let me tell you, I self by your own folly and extravagance, you

am not to be fattered into a foolish thing, nor therefore think yourself highly qualified to teach bribed into a base one. mankind their duty. Will that do?

King. (Discovering himself.] Then thou art King. You are in jest, sir.

my friend, and I will keep thee next my heart. Sir John. Upon my word, but I am in earnest. Sir John. And is it your majesty, I think he that recommends a profligate wretch King. Be not surprised; it is your own maxim, to the most serious function in life, merely for that a king cannot be too cautious in trying the sake of a joke, gives as bad a proof of his those whom he designs to trust. Forgive this morals, as he does of his wit.

disguise-I have tried thy honesty, and will no King. Sir, I honour your plain-dealing. You longer suspect it. exactly answer the character I have heard of

Enter GrEENWOOD. pour uncommon sincerity; and, to let you see that I am capable of something, I have wrote a Green. Sir, I am come to let Miss Kitty know

privately, that my master will be here, disguised, well. Hold up your head, child. O Lord ! Mrs. immediately.

Betty, you have got a beard, methinks. Sir John. Will hc? Well, go into the next

[Strokes her under the chin. room, a nd tell her so. If your majesty will be so Kitty. What! has Betty got a beard? Ha, ha, good as to retire into this chamber a while, you ha! Ah, Betty! why did not you shave closer? will hear something, perhaps, that will divert you. But I told ye you was a fool !

Sir John. Well-ard what wages do you exEnter Joe. Joe. Sir, here's a maid-servant come to be

pect, my dear?

Kitty. Ay, what work do you design to do, my hired.

dear? Sir John. Let her come in. I'll speak to her Sir John. How cleverly you have bit the old presently.

[E.rit with the King. fool, ha ! Enter Sir Timothy, disguised as a maid-servant. him by and by, ha!

Kitty. And how charmingly we shall laugh at Sir Tim. Well, I am obliged to the dear girl Sir John. Now don't you

think
you

look like for this kind contrivance of getting me into the a puppy? house with her. 'I will be charmingly conve Kitty. Poor Sir Timothy ! are you disappointnient

ed, love ? Come, don't be nangry, and I'll sing it Re-enter Sir John.

a sony.

SONG. Sir Tim. Sir, I heard that the

young lady, your daughter, wanted a servant, and I should be Ah, luckless knight! I mourn thy case : proud of the honour to serve her.

Alas! what hast thou done?
Sir John. My daughter will be here presently. Poor Betty! thou hast lost thy place;
Pray, my dear, what's your name?

Poor knight! thy ser is gone!
Sir Tim. Faith, I never thought of that; what
shall I say? [Aside. ]-Betty, sir.

Learn, henceforth, from this disaster, Sir John. And pray, Mrs. Betty, who did you

When for girls you lay your plots, Jive with last?

That each miss expects a master,

In breeches, not in petticoats. Sir Tim. Pox on his impertinence! he has non-plussed-me again.--[Aside.] Sir, I–I-lived Sir John. with Sir Timothy Flash.

Kitty.

Ha, ha, ha! Sir John. Ah, a vile fellow that! A very vile Sir Pim. Zoops! am I to be used in this manner? fellow, was not he? Did he pay you your wages? And do you think I will bear it unrevenged?

Sir Tim. Yes, sir-I shall be even with you Kitty. And have you the impudence to think for this by and by.

[Aside. you are not well used? Sir John. You was well off, then; for they Sir John. Nay, nay, if he's not satisfied, insay its what he very seldom does. Sad pay! stead of the entertainment he expected, suppose I can tell you, one part of your business must be we give him what he deserves. Who's within, to watch that villain, that he does not debauch there? my daughter : for I hear he designs it. But I hope we shall prevent him.

Enter three or four Servants, Sir TIMOTHY Sir Tim. I'll take care of her, sir, to be sure

runs off, and they after him. I burst with laughter to think how charmingly Sir John. They'll overtake him; and I don't we shall gull the old fellow!

[Aside. doubt but they'll give him the discipline he deSir John. Kate! Enter Miss Kitty.

Enter King, GREENWOOD, and Courtiers. Here's a maid for you, Kate, if you like her. King. After what you have told me, I think

Kitty. O Lord! a maid! why she's a monster! they cannot use him too ill. Madam, I wish you I never saw so ugly a thing in all my life.

joy of your escape from the ruin which threatenSir Tim. The cunning jade does this to blind ed you. the old fool.

Aside. Kitty. The king! I thank your majesty. Kitty. Pray, child, what can you do?

King. And I am glad to hear that you are reSir 'Í'im. I'll do the best I can to please you, conciled to an honest man that deserves you. madam, and I don't question but I shall do. Kitty. I see my error; and I hope, by my fuKitty. Indeed you won't do.

ture conduct, to make amends for the uneasiness Sir Tim. I hope I shall, madam, if you please I have given to so good a father. to try me.

Sir John. My dear child, I am fully satisfied: Kitty. No, I durst not try you, indeed. and I hope thou wilt every day be more and Sir Tim. Why, madam?

more convinced, that the happiness of a wife Kitty. Methinks you look like a fool; I hate does not consist in a title, or fine appearance of

her husband, but in the worthiness of his senSir John. Nay, my dear, don't abuse the young timents, and the fondness of his heart. womad; upon my word, I think she looks mighty King. And Bow, my good old man, henceforth

serves.

a fool.

be thou my friend. I will give thee an apart- nest, and my affection to your majesty sincerement in my palace, that thou mayest always be but as to my abilities, alas! they are but small: near my person. And let me conjure thee ever yet, such as they are, if it clash not with my duty to preserve this honest, plain sincerity. Speak to the public, they shall always be at your mato me freely, and let me hear the voice of truth. jesty's service. If my people complain, convey their grievances King. I'd have you just to both. faithfully to my ear; for how should kings redress those ills, which flatterers hide, or wicked But let your country's good be first your aim ; men disguise?

On this our honest miller builds his claim, Sir John. I thank your majesty for the confi- At least for pardon ; if you please, for fame. dence you have in me : my heart, I know, is ho.

[Ereunt omnes.

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