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King. I rely upon your being so: And, to By selfish sycophants so close besieged, gain the friendship of such a one, I shall al- 'Tis by mere chance a worthy man's obliged ; ways thing an addition to my happiness, though But hence, to every courtier be it known, a king.
Virtue shall find protection from the throne. Worth, in whatever state, is sure a prize,
[Ereunt omnes. Which kings, of all men, ought not to despise ;
SCENE I.-A Room.
Bar. The bag, sir.
Sir John. The bag, sir! and what's this bag
Bar. It's what is very much wore, sir, indeed. Sir John. Fashions are for fools; don't tell me Sir John. Wore, sir! how is it wore? where of fashion. Must a man make an ass of himself, is it wore? what is it for? because it's the fashion ?
Bar. Sir, it is only for ornament.
Sir John. 0, 'tis an ornament ! I beg your pare would not you?
don! Now, positively, I should not have taken Sir John. No, sir, if this is their likeness, I this for an ornament. My poor grey hairs are, in would not be like other folks. Why, a man my opinion, much more becoming. But, come, might as well be cased up in armour; here's buck- put it on! There, now, what do you think I ram and whalebone enough to turn a bullet.
Joe. Sir, here's the barber has brought you Joe. Icod, measter, you're not like the same home a new periwig.
mon, I'm sure. Sir John. Let him come in. Come, friend ! Bar. Sir, 'tis very genteel, I assure you. let's see if you're as good at fashions as Mr. Sir John. Genteel! ay, that it may be, for Buckram here. What the devil's this? aught I know, but I'm sure 'tis very ugly.
Bar. They wear nothing else in France, sir. 2d Court. He must certainly divert your ma
Sir John. "In France, sir! what's France to jesty. me? I'm an Englishman, sir, and know no right sd Cour. He may be diverting, perhaps ; but the fools of France have to be my examples. if I may speak my mind freely, I think there is Here, take it again; I'll have none of your new something too plain and rough in his behaviour, fan; ied French fopperies ; and if you please, I'll for your majesty to bear. make you a present of this fine, fashionable coat King. Your lordship, perhaps, may be afraid again. Fashion, indeed!
of plain truth and sincerity, but I am not. [Exeunt Tailor, Barber, and Joe. 3d Cour. I beg your majesty's pardon; I did
not suppose you was; I only think, there is a Enter Joe with the French Cook.
certain awe and reverence due to your majesty, Joe. Sir, here's a fine gentleman wants to which I am afraid his want of politeness may speak with you.
make him transgress. Cook. Sir, me bave hear dat your honour King. My lord, whilst I love my subjects, and want one cook.
preserve to them all their rights and liberties, I Sir John. Sir, you are very obliging; I supo doubt not of meeting with a proper respect from pose you would recommend one to me. But as the roughest of thein ; but as for the awe and I don't know you.
reverence which your politeness would flatter Cook. No, no, sir ! me am one cook myself, me with, I love it not. I will, that all my suband would be proud of de honour to serve you. jects treats me with sincerity. An honest free
Sir John. You a cook ! and pray, what wayes dom of speech, as it is every honest man's right, may you expect, to afford such finery as that? so none can be afraid of it, but he that is con
Cook. Me will have one hundred guinea a scious to himself of ill-deservings. Sound maxyear, no more; and two or three servant under ims, and right conduct, can never be ridiculed ; ine to do de work.
and, where the contrary prevail, the severest Sir John. Hum ! very reasonable truly! And, censure is greatest kindness. pray, what extraordinary matters can you do, to
3d Cour. I believe your majesty is in the right, deserve such wages?
and I stand corrected. Cvok. O! me can make you one hundred dish, de Englis know noting ot; me can make
Enter a Gentleman. you de portable soup to put in your pocket : me
Gen. May it please your majesty, bere is a can dress you de foul a-la marli
, en galentine, person, who calls himself Sir John Cockle, the a-la montmorancy; de duck en grinadin; de iniller of Mansfield, begs admittance to your chicken a-la chombre; de turkey en botine; majesty. de pidgeon en mirliton a l'Italienne, a-la d'
King. Conduct him in. Huxelles: en fine, me can give you de essence of five or six ham, and de juice of ten or twelve
Enter Sir John. stone of beef, all in de sauce of ove little dish.
King. Honest Sir John Cockle, you are welSir John. Very fine! At this rate, no wonder come to London. the poor are starved, and the butcher unpaid.
Sir John. I thank your majesty for the honour No, I will have no such cooks, I promise you ; it you do me, and am glad to find your inajesty in is the luxury and extravagance introduced by good health. such French kickshaw-mongers as you, that has devoured and destroyed old English bospitality! a miller yet? What I gave you was with a design
King. But pray, Sir John, why in the habit of Go! go about your business ; I have no mind to be beygared, nor to beggar bonest tradesmen. for subsistence.
to set you above the mean dependence of a trade Joe !
Sir John. Your majesty will pardon my freeJoe. Sir!
dom. Whilst my trade will support me, I Sir John. Let my daughter know, the king bas independent; and I look upon that to be more sent for me, and I am gone to court, to wait on honourable in an Englishman, than any depenhis majesty.
dance whatsoever. I am a plain, blunt mau, Joe. Yes, sir,
[E.xeunt. and may possibly, some time or other, offend SCENE II.--The Palace.
your majesty; and where, then, is my subsist
ence? Enter the King, and several Courtiers.
king. And dare you pot trust the honour of King. Well, my lords, our old friend, the mil- a king? ler of Mansfield is arrived at last.
Sir John. Without doubt I might trust your Ist Court. He has been in town two or three majesty very safely; but, in general, though the days; has not your majesty seen bim yet? honour of kings ought to be more sacred, the
King. No, but I have sent for him to attend humour of kings is like that of other men ; and, me this evening: and I design, with only you, when they please to change their mind, who shall my lords, who are now present, to entertain my dare to call their honour in question self a while with his honest freedoin. Ile will King. Sir Jobn, you are in the right; and I am be here presently.
glad to see you maintain that noble freedom of
spirit: I wish all my subjects were as indepen- | more of this affair another time: but tell me dent on me as you resolve to be; I should then how you like London? Your son Richard, I rebear more truth and less flattery. But come, member, gave a very satirical description of it; what news? How does iny lady and your son I hope you are better entertained. Richard ?
Sir John. So we!!, that I assure your majesty, Sir John. I thank your majesty; Margery is I am in admiration and wonder all day long. very well, and so is Dick.
King. Ay! well, let us hear what it is you adKing. I hope you have brought her up to town mire and wonder at. with you?
Sir John. Almost every thing I see or hear of. Sir John. She has displeased me, of late, very When I see the splendour and magnificence in much.
which some noblemen appear, I admire their King. In wliat
riches; but when I hear of their debts, and their Sir John. You shall hear. When I was only mortgages, I wonder at their fully. When I plain John Cockle, the miller of Mansfeld, a hear of a dinner costing an hundred pounds, I farmer's son, in the neighbourhood, made love am surprised that one man should have so many to my daughter. He was a worthy, honest man. friends to entertain ; but when I am told, that He loved my daughter sincerely; and, to all ap- it was made only for five or six squeamish lords, pearance, her affections were placed on him. 'I or piddling ladies, that eat not perhaps an ounce approved of the inatch, and gave him my con-a-piece, I am quite astonished. When I hear of sent. But when your majesty's bounty had raised an estate of twenty or thirty thousand a year, I my fortune and condition, my daughter, Kato, envy the man thai has it in his power to do so became Miss Kitty: She grew a tine girl, and much good, and wonder how he disposes of it; was presently taken notice of by the young gen- but when I am told of the necessary expences tlemen of the country. Amongst the rest, Sir of a gentleman in horses and whores, and eating Timothy Flash, a young, rakish, extravagant and drinking, and dressing and gaming, I ain knight, made lis addresses to her; his title, his surprised that the poor man is able to live. dress, his equipage, dazzled her eyes and her un short, when I consider our publick credit, our derstanding; and fond, I suppose, of being made honour, our courage, our freedom, our publick a lady, she despises and forsakes her first lover, spirit, I am surprised, amazed, astonished, and the honest farmer, and is determined to marry confounded. this mad, wrong-beaded knight.
1st Cour. Is not this bold, sir? King. And is this the occasion of your dis Sir John. Perhaps it may; but I suppose his pleasure I should think you had rather cause to majesty would not have an Englishunan a coward? rejoice that she was so prudent. What! do you Řing. Far from it. Let the generous spirit of think it no advantage to your daughter, nor ho- freedom reign unchecked : Tu speak bis mind, is nour to yourself, lo he allied to so great a man? | the undoubted right of every Briton; and be it
Sir John. It may be an honour to be allied to the glory of my reign, that all my subjects enjoy a great man, when a great man is a man of ho- that honest liberty. Tis iny wish to redress ail nour; but that is not always the case. Besides, grievances; to right all wrongs : But kings, alas ! nothing that is unjust, can be either prudent or are but fallible men; errors in government will honourable: And the breaking her faith and pro- happen, as well as failings in private life, and mise with a man that lored, and every way de- ought to be candidly imputed. And let me ask served her, merely for the sake of a little vanity, you one question, Sir John. Do you really think or self-interest, is an action that I am ashamed you could honestly withstand all the temptations my daughter could be guilty of.
that wealth and power would lay before you? King. Why, you are the most extraordinary Sir John. I will not boast before your majesman I ever knew: I have heard of fathers quar- ty; perhaps I could not. Yet give me leave to Telling with their children for marring foolishly say, the man, whom wealth or power can make for love ; but you are so singular as to blaine a villain, is sure unworthy of possessing either. your's for marrying wisely for interest.
King. Suppose self-interest, too, should clash Sir John. Why, I may differ a little from the with publick duty ? common practice of my neighbours -But, Sir John. Suppose it should : 'Tis always a I hope your majesty does not, therefore, think man's duty to be just; and doubly bis with me to blame?
whom the public trust their rights and liberties. King. No : Singularity in the right is never a King, I think so; nay, he, who cannot scorn crime. If you are satisfied your actions are just, the narrow interest of his own poor self, to let the world blush that they are singular. serve his country, and defend her rights, de
Sir John. Nay, and I am, perhaps, not so re serves not the protection of a couutry to defend gardless of interest as your majesty may appre- his own; at least, should not be trusted with lend. It is very possible a bright, or even a the rights of other men. lord, may be poor as well as a farmer. No of Sir John. I wish no such were ever trusted. fence, I hope? [Turning to the Courtiers. King. I wish so, too: But how are kings to Cour. No, no, no. Impertinent fellow ! know the hearts of men ?
| Aside. Sir John. "Tis difficult indeed: yet something King. Well, Sir John, I shall be glad hraimnight be done.
King. Sir John, I think so; and, to convince Sir John. The man whom a king employs, or you how much I esteem your plain-dealing and a nation trusts, should be thoroughly tried. Exa- sincerity of heart, receive this ring as a mark of mine bis private character: Mark how he lives : my favour. Is he luxurious, or proud, or ambitious, or ex Sir John. I thank your majesty. travagant? avoid him: The soul of that man is King. Don't thank me now; at present I have mean ; necessity will press him, and public business that must be dispatched, and will de. fraud must pay his private debts. But if you sire you to leave me: before 'tis long I'll see find a man with a clear head, sound judgment, you again. and a right honest heart--that is the inan to Sir John. I wish your majesty a good night. serve both you and his country.
Erit. King. You're right; and such by mc shall King. Well, my lords, what do you think of ever be distinguished. 'Tis both my duty and this miller? my interest to promote them. To such, if I 1st Cour. He talks well: what he is in the give wealth, it will enrich the public; to such, bottom, I don't know. if I give power, the nation will be miglity; 10 2d Cour. I'm afraid not sound. such, if I give honour, I shall raise my own. 3d Cour. I fancy he's set on by somebody But surely, Sir John, your's is not the language, to impose upon your majesty with this fair shew nor the sentiments of a common miller ; how, in of honesty. a cottage, could you gain this superior wisdom? 1st Cour. Or is not be some cunning knave,
Sir John. Wisdom is not confined to palaces; that wants to work himself into your majesty's nor always to be bought with gold. I read often, favour? and think sometimes; and he who does that, King. I have a fancy come into my head to may gain some knowledge, even in a cottage. try him; which I'll communicate to you, and put As for any think superior, I pretend not to it. in execution immediately. An hour hence, my What I have said, I hope, is plain good sense; lords, I shall expect to see you at Sir Jobn's. at least 'tis honest, and well meant.
SCENE I.-A Tavern.
falsehood to me is to be punished? I will prevent thy ruin, however.
[Erit. Sir Timothy Flash, the Landlord, and GREENWOOD.
SIR Timothy sings.
Which in women we possess ! when did you come to town?
O the raptures which arise ! Sir Tim. Yesterday; and on an affair that I
They alone have power to bless ! shall want a little of your assistance in.
Beauty smiling, Land. Any thing in my power, you know,
Wit beguiling, you inay command.
Kindness charming, Sir Tim. You must know then, I have an in
Fancy warming, trigue with a young lady that's just come to
Kissing, toying, town with her father, and want an agreeable
Melting, dying house to meet her at; can you recommend one
O the raptures which arise ! to me?
O the pleasing, pleasing joys ! Land. I can recommend you, sir, to the most
Land. You are a inerry wag: convenient woman in all London. What think
Sir Tim. Marry, ay! why what is life without you of Mrs. Wheedle ? Sir Tim. The best woman in all the world: this letter, and then, honest Bacchus, we'll taste
enjoying the pleasures of it? Come, I'll write I know her very well; how could I be so stupid what wine thou host got.
[Exeunt. not to think of her? Greenwood, do
You know where our country neighbour, Sir John Cockle,
SCENE II.-A Room. lodges? Green. Yes, sir.
Miss Kitty and Mrs. STARCH, Sir Tim. Don't be out of the way then; I Kitty. But pray, Mrs. Starch, does all new fashall send a letter by you presently, which you shions come up first at court? must deliver privately into Miss Kitty's own Mrs. Starch. O, dear madam, yes. They do hand. If she comes with you, I shall give you nothing else there but study new fashions. That's directions where to conduct her, and do you what the court is for : And we milliners, and taicome back here and let me know.
lors, and barbers, and mantua-makers, go there Green. Yes, sir. Poor Kitty! is it thus thy I to learn fashions for the good of the public.