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SCENE IV.-The Mill,
Dick. Very well, I thank you, father.
King. A little more, and you had pushed me MARGERY and Kate knitting.
Mil. Faith, sir, you must excuse me; I was Kate. O dear! I would not see a spirit for overjoyed to see iny boy. He has been at all the world! but I love dearly to hear stories London, and I have not seen him these four of them. Well, and what then?
Mar. And so at last, in a dismal hollow tone, King. Well, I shall once in my life have the it cried
happiness of being treated as a common man; (A knocking at the door frights them both; and of seeing human nature without disguise. they scream out, and throw down their
Mil. What has brought thee home so unexMar.
pected? Lord bless us! What's that? Kate.
Dick. You will know that presently. Kate. O dear mother! it's some judgment Mil. Of that, by-and-by, then. We have got upon us, I am afraid! They say, talk of the de- the king down in the forest a hunting, this seavil, and he'll appear.
son; and this honest gentleman, who came Mar. Kate, go and see who's at the door. down with his majesty from London, has been Kate. I durst not go, mother! do you go. with them to-day, it seems, and has lost his Mar. Come, let's both go!
way:-Come, Madye, see what thou can's6 Kate. Now, don't speak as if you was get for supper. Kill a couple of the best fowls : afraid !
[Erit Mar.] and go you, Kate, and draw a Mar. No, I won't, if I can help it. Who's pitcher of ale [Erit' KATE.H-We are famous, there?
sir, at Mansfield, for good ale; and for honest Diek. (Without.) What! won't you let me fellows, that know how to drink it. in?
King. Good ale will be acceptable at present, Kate. O gemini ! it's like our Dick, I think : for I am very dry. But, pray, how came your He's certainly dead ! and it's bis spirit. son to leave you, and go to London?
Mar. Hear'n forbid ! I think in iny heart, it's Mil. Why, that's a story which Dick, perhe himnself. Open the door, Kate.
haps, won't like to have told. Kate. Nay! do you.
King. Then I don't desire to hear it. Mar. Conie, we'll both open it. [They open the door. Enter Kate, with an earthen pitcher of ale,
and a horn. Enter Dick.
Mil. So; now, do you go help your mother. Dick. Dear mother ! how do you do? I-Sir, my hearty service to you. thought you would not have let ine in!
Kiny. Thank ye, sir. This plain sincerity and llar. Dear child! I'm overjoyed to see thee; freedom, is a happiness unknown to kinys. but I was so frighted, I did not know what to
Nil. Come, sir. Kate. Dear brother, I am glad to see you ! King. Richard, my service to you. bow have you done this long while?
Dick. Thank you, sir. Dick, Very well, Kate. "But where's my
fa Mil. Well, Dick, and low dost thou like ther?
London? Come, tell us what thou hast seen. Mar. He heard a gun go off, just now, and
Dick. Seen! I have seen the land of prohe's gone to see who'tis.
Dick. What, they love venison at Mansfield Mil. The land of promise! What dost thou as well as ever, I suppose?
mean? Kate. Ay; and they will have it, too.
Dick. The court, father. Mil. [Without. Hoa! Madge! Kate! bring
Mil. Thou wilt never leave joking. a light bere!
Dick. To be serious, then, I have seen the Mar. Yonder lie is.
disappointment of my hopes and expectations; Kate. Has he catched the rogue, I wonder? and that's more than one would wish to see,
Mil. What! Would the great man, thou wast Enter the King and the Miller. recommended to, do nothing at all for thee at
last? Jar. Who have you got?
Dick. Why, yes; he would promise me to Mil. I have brought thee a stranger, Madge; the last. thou must give hiin a supper, and a lodging, if Mil. Zoons! Do the courtiers think their dethou can'st.
pendents can eat promises? Mar. You have got a better stranger of your Dick. No, no; they never trouble their heads own, I can tell you : Dick's come.
to think whether we cat at all or not. I have BIi!. Dick! Where is he? Why, Dick ! How now dangled after his lordship several years, ist, my lad?
tantalized with hopes and expectations; this
year promised one place, the next another, and Mil. No, no, Dick; instead of depending the third, in sure and certain hope of -a upon lords' promises, depend upon the labour disappointment. One falls, and it was promised of thine own hands; expect nothing but what before; another, and I am just lialf an hour thou can'st earn, and then thou wilt not be distoo late ; a third, and it stops the mouth of a appointed. But come, I want a description of creditor; a fourth, and it pays the hire of a London; thou hast told us nothing thou hast flatterer; a fifth, and it bribes a vote: and, the seen yet. sixth, I am promised still. But having thus slept Dick. O! 'Tis a fine place! I have seen away some years, I awoke from my dream: large houses with small hospitality; great men my lord, I found, was so far from having it in do little actions; and fine ladies do nothing his power to get a place for me, that he had at all. I have seen the honest lawyers of Westbeen all this while seeking after one for him- minster-hall, and the virtuous inhabitants of self.
Change-Alley; the politic madmen of cofMil. Poor Dick! And is plain honesty, then, fee-houses, and the wise statesınen of Beda recommendation to no place at court?' lam. I have seen merry tragedies, and sad
Dick. It may recommend you to be a foot coinedies ; devotion at an opera, and mirth at man, perhaps, but nothing further; nothing a sermon; I have seen fine clothes at St. further, indeed. If you look higher, you must James's, and long bills at Ludgate-hill. I have furnish yourself with other qualifications: you seen poor grandeur, and rich poverty; high must learn to say ay, or no; to run, or stand; honours, and low Aattery; great pride, and to fetch, or carry, or leap over a stick, at the no merit. In short, I have seen a fool with a word of command. You must be master of title, a knave'with a pension, and an honest man the arts of flattery, insinuation, dissimula- with a thread-bare coat. Pray, how do you tion, application, and—[ Pointing to his palm.] like London? -right application, too, if you hope to suc Mil. And is this the best description thou ceed.
can'st give of it? King. You don't consider I am a courtier, Dick. Yes. methinks.
King. Why, Richard, you are a satirist, I Dick. Not I, indeed; 'tis no concern of mine find. what you are. If, in general, my character of Dick. I love to speak truth, sir; if that hapthe court is true, 'tis not my fault if it's disa- pens to be satire, I can't help it. greeable to your worship. There are parti Mil. Well! If this is London, give me my cular exceptions, I own, and I hope you may country cottage; which, though it is not a great be one.
house, nor a fine house, is my own house; and I King. Nay, I don't want to be fattered; so can shew a receipt for the building on't. But let that pass. Here's better success to you the come, sir, our supper, I believe, is ready for us next time you come to London !
by this time; and to such as I have, you're welDick. I thank ye ; but I don't design to see it come as a prince. again in haste.
King. I thank you.
ACT II. .
SCENE I.-The Wood.
1st Keep. Zoons! You're afraid of a broken
head, I suppose, if we should find them; and so Enter several Keepers.
had rather slink back again. Hark! stand close ;
I hear them coining this way. 1st Keep. The report of a gun was somewhere this way, I'm sure.
Enter the Courtiers. 2d Keep. Yes; but I can never believe that any body would come a deer stealing so dark a 1st Cour. Did not you hear somebody just night as this.
now? Faith, I begin to be afraid we shall meet Sd Keep. Where did the decr harbour to- with some misfortune to-night.
2d Cour. Why, if any body should take what 4th Keep. There was a herd lay upon Hamil- we have got, we have made a fine business. lon-hill; another, just by Robin Hood's chair; of it. and a third here, in Mansfield wood.
3d Cour. Let them take it, if they will: I am 1st Keep. Ay; those they have been a so tired, I shall make but small resistance. mongst !
[The Keepers rush upon them. 2d Keep. But we shall never be able to find 21 Keep. Ay; rogues, rascals, and villains ! them 10-night, 'tis so dark.
You have got it, have you? 3d Keep. No, no; !et's go back again.
2: Cour. Indoed we've got but very little ;
but what we have, you're welcome to, if you and much good may do ye with your poor supwill but use us civilly.
per : I wish it had been better. 1st Keep. O yes ! very civilly; you deserve to King. You need make no apologies, be used civilły, to be sure.
Mar. We are obliged to your goodness in ex4th Cour. Why, what have we done that we cusing our rudeness. may not be civilly used ?
Mil. Prithee, Margery, don't trouble the genist Keep. Come, come, don't trifle; surren- teman with compliments. der!
Mar. Lord, husband, if one had no more 1st Cour. I have but three half-crowns about manners than you, the gentleman would take us
all for hogs. 2d Cour. Here's three and sixpence for you, Mil. Now, I think, the more compliments gentlemen.
the less manners. 3d Cour. Here's my watch; I have no money King. I think so, too. Compliments in disat all.
course, I believe, are like cerenionies in reli4th Cour. Indeed I have nothing in my pocket gion; the one has destroyed all true piety, and but a snuff-box.
the other all sincerity and plain-dealing. 4th Keep. What! the dogs want to bribe us, Mil. Theu a fig for all ceremony, and comdo they? No, rascals; you shall go before the pliments, too: give us thy hand; and let us justice to-inorrow, depend on't.
drink and be merry. 4th Cour. Before the justice ! what, for being King. Right, honest miller; let us drink robbed ?
and he merry. Come, have you got e're a good 1st Keep. For being robbed! What do you song? mean? Who has robbed you?
. Ah! my singing days are over; but my 4th Cour. Why, did not you just now demand man Joe has got an excellent one; and if you our money, gentlemen?
have a mind to hear it, I'll call himn in. 2d Keep. O, the rascals! They will swear a King. With all my heart. robbery against us, I warraut!
Mil. Joe! 4th Cour. A robbery! Ay; to be sure.
Mil. Come, Joe ! drink, boy ; I have promiskilled.
ed this gentleman that you shall sing bim your 4th Cour. The devil take the deer, I say! he
last new song. led us a chase of six hours, and got away from
Joe. Well, master, if you have promised it us at last.
him, he shall have it. 1st Keep. Zoons! Ye dogs, do
think to banter us? I tell ye, you have this night shot one of the king's deer; did not we hear the gun
SONG go off? Did not we hear you say, you was afraid it should be taken from you?
How happy a state does the miller possess ! 2d Cour. We were afraid our money should
Who would be no greater, nor fears to be be taken from us.
On his mill and hiinself he depends for sup1st Keep. Come, come, no more shuffling: I
port, tell ye, you're all rogues, and we'll have you
Which is better than servilely cringing at hanged, you may depend on't. Come, let's
court. take them to old Cockle's; we're not far off; we'll keep them there all night, and to-mor What though he all dusty and whitened docs row morning we'll away with them before the
The more he's be-powdered, the more like a 4th Cour. A very pretty adventure!
beau ; Ereunt.
A clown, in this dress, may be honester far
Than u courtier who struts in his garter and
fit to be seen,
The hands of his betters are not very clean ; Mil. Come, sir, you must mend a bad supper A palm more polite may as dirtily deal ; with a glass of good ale; here's King Harry's Gold, in handling, will stick to the fingers like health!
meal. King. With all my heart. Come, Richard, here's King Harry's health; I hope you are cour What if, when a pudding for dinner he lucks, tier enough to pledge me, are not you? He cribs, without scruple, from other nien's Dick. Yes, yes, sir; I'll drink the king's health
sacks ; with all my heart.
In this of right noble eramples he brags, Mar. Come, sir, my humble service to you, Who borrow as freely from other men's bogs.
Or should he endeavour to heap an estate, Dick. Why, the king being now in this forest In this he would mimic the tools of the a hunting, we design to take some opportunity state;
of throwing ourselves at his majesty's feet, and Who's aim is alone their own coffers to fill, complaining of the injustice done us by this noAs all his concern's to bring grist to his mill. ble villain.
Mil. Ah, Dick! I expect but little redress He eats when he's hungry, he drinks when from such an application. Things of this nature
he's dry, And down when he's weary contented does afraid it will only be made a jest of.
are so common among the great, that I am
King. Those, that can make a jest of what Then rises up chearful to work and to sing :
ought to be shocking to humanity, surely deIf so happy a miller, then who'd be a king
serve not the name of great or noble men. Mil. There's a a song for you?
Dick. What do you think of it, sir? If you King. He should go sing this at court, I
belong to the court, you, perhaps, may know think.
something of the king's temper. Dick. I believe, if lie's wise, he will chuse to
King. Why, if I can judge of his temper at stay at home, though.
all, I think he would not suffer the greatest no
bleman in his court, to do an injustice to the Enter Peggy.
meanest subject in his kingdom. But, pray, who
is the nobleman that is capable of such actions Mil. What wind blew you hither, pray? You
as these? have a good share of impudence, or you would Dick. Do you know my Lord Lurewell? be ashamed to set your foot within my house,
King. Yes. methinks.
Dick. That's the man. Peg. Ashamed I am, indeed; but do not call King, Well, I would have you put your deme impudent.
[Weeps. sign in execution. 'Tis my opinion the king Dick. Dear father, suspend your anger for would not only hear your complaint, but redress the present; that she is here now, is by my di
your injuries. rection, and to do me justice.
Mil. I wish it may prove so. Peg. To do that, is all that is now in my power; for, as to myself, I am ruined past re
Enter the Keepers, leading in the Courtiers. demption; my character, my virtue, my peace, are gone: I am abandoned by my friends, des 1st Keep. Hola! Cockle! Where are ye? pised by the world, and exposed to misery and Why, man, we have nabbed a pack of rogues
here, just in the fact. King. Pray, let me know the story of your King. Ha, ha, ha! What, turned highwaymisfortunes : perhaps it may be in my power to men, my lords, or deer-stealers? do something towards redressing them.
1st Cour. I am very glad to find your majesty Peg. That you may learn from him, whom I in health and safety. have wronged; but as for me, shame will not 2d Cour. We have run through a great many let me speak, or hear it told. [Exit Peggy. perils and dangers to-night; but the joy of fiodKing. She's very pretty.
ing your majesty so unexpectedly, will make us Dick. O, sir, I once thought her an angel ; I forget all we have suffered. loved her dearer than my life, and did believe Mil. her passion was the same for me: but a young Dick. S
} What! is this the king! nobleman of this neighbourhood happening to King. I am very glad to see you, my lords, see her, her youth and blooming beauty pre- I confess; and particularly you, my Lord Luresently struck his fancy; a thousand artifices were well
. immediately employed to debauch and ruin her. Lure. Your majesty does me honour. But all his arts were vain; not even the promise King. Yes, my lord, and I will do you justice, of making her his wise, could prevail upon her. too, your honour has been highly wronged by In a little time he found out her love to me, this young man. and, imagining this to be the cause of her refu Lure. Wronyéd, my liege! sal, he, by forged letters, and feigned stories, King. I hope so, my lord ; for I would fain contrived to make her believe I was upon the believe you can't be guilty of baseness and point of marriage with another woman. Possess- treachery. ed with this opinion, she, in a rage, writes me Lure. I hope your majesty will never find me word, never to see her more; and, in revenge, so. What dares this villain say? consented to her own undoing. Not contented Dick. I am not to be frighted, my lord. 1 with this, nor easy whiļe I was so near her, he dare speak truth at any time. bribed one of his cast-off mistresses to swear a Lure. Whatever stains my honour, must be child to ine,
which she did; this was the occasion false. of my leaving my friends, and flying to London. King. I know it must, my lord'; yet has this
King. And how does she propose to do you man, not knowing who I was, presumed to justice
charge your lordship, not only with great in
justice to himself, but also with ruining an inno-he's as great as you. Is it your riches or estate cent virgin, whom he loved, and who was to have The villain that should plunder you of all, would been his wife; wbich, if true, were base and then be as great as you. No, my lord; he, that treacherous; but I know 'tis false, and, there- acts greatly, is the true great man. I therefore fore leave it to your lordship to say, what think, you ought, in justice, to marry her you punishment I shall inflict upon him, for the in- thus have wronged. jury done to your honour.
Peg. Let my tears thank your majesty. But, Lure. I thank your majesty. I will not be alas! I am afraid to marry this young lord : severe; he sball only ask my pardon, and to- that would only give him power to use me morrow morning be obliged to marry the crea- worse, and still encrease my misery; I, thereture he has traduced me with.
fore, beg your majesty will not cominand him to King. This is mild. Well, you hear your sen- do it. tence.
King. Rise, then, and hear me. My lord, Dick. May I not have leave to speak before you see how low, the greatest nobleman may be your majesty?
reduced by ungenerous actions. Here is, under King. What can'st thou say ?
your own hand an absolute promise of marDick. If I had your majesty's permission, Iriage to this young woman,' which, from a believe I bave certain witnesses which will un- thorough knowledge of your unworthiness, she deniably prove the truth of all I have accused has prudently declined to make you fulfil. I his lordship of.
shall, therefore, not insist upon it: but I comKing. Produce them.
mand you, upon pain of my displeasure, immeDick. Peggy!
diately to settle on her three hundred pounds
a year. Enter Peggy.
Peg. May Heaven reward your majesty's King. Do you know this woman, my lord? goodness. 'Tis too much for me; but if your
Lure. I know her, please your majesty, by majesty thinks fit, let it be settled upon this sight; she's a tenant's daughter.
much injured man, to make some satisfaction for Peg. (Aside.] Majesty! - What, is this the the wrongs which have been done him. As to kiug?
myself, I only sought to clear the innocence of Dick, Yes.
him I loved and wronged, then hide me from King. Have you no particular acquaintance the world, and die forgiven. with her?
Dick. This act of generous virtue cancels all Lure. Hum ! I have not seen her these seve- past failings; come to my arins, and be as dear ral months.
Dick. True, my lord ; and that is part of your Peg. You cannot, sure, forgive me! accusation; for, I believe, I have some letters Dick. I can, I do, and still will make you which will prove your lordship once had a more mine. particular acquaintance with her. Here is one Peg. O, why did I ever wrong such generous of the first his lordship wrote to her, full of the love? tenderest and most solemn protestations of love Dick. Talk no more of it. Here, let us and constancy ; bere is another, which will in- kneel, and thank the goodness which has made form your majesty of the pains he took to ruin us blest. her. There is an absolute promise of marriage King. May you be happy! before he could accomplish it.
Mil. [Kneels.] After I have seen so much of King. What say you, my lord? are these your your majesty's goodness, I cannot despair of hands?
pardon, even for the rough usage your majesty Lure. I believe, please your majesty, I night received from me. have a little affair of gallantry with the girl some [The King draws his sword, the Miller is
frighted, and rises up, thinking he was King. It was a little affair, my lord; a mean going to kill him. affair ; and what you call gallantry, I call infa- What have I done, that I should lose my life? my. Do you think, my lord, that greatness gives King. Kneel without fear. No.ny good host, a sanction to wickedness? Or that it is the pre- so far are you from having any thing to pardon, rogative of lords to be unjust and inhuman? that I am much your debtor. I cannot think but You reinember the sentence which yourself pro- so good and honest a inan will make a worthy nounced upon this innocent man; you cannot and honourable knight; so, rise up, Sir John think it bard that it should pass on you who are Cockle: And to support your state, and in some guilty.
sort require the pleasure you have done us, a Lure. I hope your majesty will consider my thousand marks a year shall be your revenue. rank, and not oblige me to inarry her.
Mil. Your majesty's bounty I receive with King. Your rank, my lord! Greatness, that thankfulness; I have been guilty of no meanness stoops to actions base and low, deserts its rank, to obtain it, and hope I shall not berobliged to and polls its honours down. What makes your keep it upon base conditions ; for though I am lordship great? Is it your gilded equipage and willing to be a faithful subject, I am resolved 10 dress ? Then put it on your meanest slave, and I be a free, and an honest man.