pofe the bafeness of him that betray'd and ruin'd you, I will join with you with all my heart.

you propose to do this?

But how do

Peggy. The king is now in this forreft a-hunting, and our young lord is every day with him: now, I think, if we could take fome opportunity of throwing ourselves at his majefty's feet, and complain of the injuftice of one of his courtiers, it might perhaps have fome effect upon him.

Dick. If we were fuffer'd to make him fenfible of it, perhaps it might; but the complaints of fuch little folks as we seldom reach the ears of majesty.

Peggy. We can but try.

Dick. Well, if you will go with me to my father's, and stay there till fuch an opportunity happens, I shall believe you in earnest, and will join with you in your defign.

Peggy. I will do any thing to convince you of my fincerity, and to make satisfaction for the injuries which have been done you.

Dick. Will you go now?

Peggy. I'll be with you in less than an hour. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Mill.

Margery and Kate, knitting.

Kate. O dear, I would not fee a spirit for all the world; but I love dearly to hear stories of them. Well, and what then?

Mar. And fo at laft, in a difmal, hollow tone, it cry'd

[A knocking at the door frights them both; they scream out, and throw down their knitting.

Mar. and Kate. Lord blefs us! what's that?

Kate. O dear mother, 'tis fome judgment upon us, I'm afraid.————They fay, Talk of the devil, and he'll ap

pear.

Mar. Kate, go and fee who's at the door?

Kate. I durft not go, mother; do you go.

Mar. Come, let's both go.

Kate. Now, don't speak as if you was

afraid.

Mar. No, I won't, if I can help it. Who's there? Dick, (without.) What! won't you let me in?

VOL. III.

Y

Katt

Kate. O gemini! 'tis like our Dick, I think:-he's certainly dead, and 'tis his fpirit.

Mar. Heav'n forbid! I think in my heart 'tis he himfelf. Open the door, Kate.

Kate. Nay, do you.

Mar. Come, we'll both open it. [They open the door. Enter Dick.

Dick Dear mother, how do you do? I thought you would not have let me in.

Mar. Dear child, I'm overjoy'd to fee thee; but I was fo frighted, I did not know what to do.

Kate. Dear brother, I am glad to see you: how have you done this long while?

Dick. Very well, Kate. But where's my father? Mar. He heard a gun go off just now, and he's gone to fee who it is.

Dick. What, they love venison at Mansfield as well as ever, I fuppofe?

Kate. Ay, and they will have it too.

Mil.(without.) Hoa! Madge! Kate! bring a light here. Mar. Yonder he is.

Kate Has he catch'd the rogue, I wonder?

Enter the King and the Miller.

Mar. Who have you got?

Mil. I have brought thee a ftranger, Madge-thou muft give him a fupper, and a lodging if thou canst. Mar. You have got a better ftranger of your own, I can tell you-Dick's come.

Mil. Dick! where is he? Why, Dick! how is't, my lad?

Dick. Very well, I thank you, father.

King. A little more, and you had push'd me down. Mil. Faith, Sir, you must excuse me; I was overjoy'd to fee my boy. He has been at London, and I have not feen him these four years.

King. Well, I fhall once in my life have the happiness of being treated as a common man, and of feeing human nature without difguife.

[Afide. Mil. What has brought thee home fo unexpected? Dick. You will know that prefently.

Mil. Of that by-and-by then. We have got the king down in the foreft a-hunting this feafon; and this honest

gentleman,

gentleman, who came down with his majefty from London, has been with 'em to-day it seems, and has lost his way. Come, Madge, fee what thou can't get for fupper. Kill a couple of the best fowls; and go you, Kate, and draw a pitcher of ale. We are famous, Sir, at Mansfield for good ale, and for honeft fellows that know how to drink it.

King. Good ale will be acceptable at prefent, for I am very dry. But pray, how came your fon to leave you and go to London?

Mil. Why, that's a story which Dick perhaps won't like to have told.

King. Then I don't defire to hear it.

Enter Kate with an earthen pitcher of ale and a horn. Mil. So now do you go help your mother. Sir, my hearty fervice to you.

King. Thank ye, Sir. This plain fincerity and freedom is a happinefs unknown to kings.

Mil. Come, Sir.

King. Richard, my service to you.
Dick. Thank you, Sir.

[Afide

Mil. Well, Dick, and how doft thou like London? Come, tell us what thou haft feen?

Dick. Seen! I have feen the land of promise.

Mil. The land of promife! what doft thou mean?
Dick. The court, father.

Mil. Thou wilt never leave joking.

Dick. To be ferious then, I have feen the disappointment of all my hopes and expectations; and that's more than one could wish to fee.

Mil. What, would the great man thou was recommended to do nothing at all for thee at last?

Dick. Why, yes; he would promise me to the laft. Mil. Zoons! do the courtiers think their dependents can eat promises?

Dick. No, no; they never trouble their heads to think whether we eat at all or not. I have now dangled after his lordship feveral years, tantaliz'd with hopes and expectations; this year promifed one place, the next another, and the third in fure and certain hope of a disappointment. One falls, and it was promifed before; another, and I am just half an hour too late; a third, and

it flops the mouth of a creditor; a fourth, and it pays the hire of a flatterer; a fifth, and it bribes a vote;and the fixth I am promised ftill. But having thus flept away fome years, I awoke from my dream :-my lord, I found, was fo far from having it in his power to get a place for me, that he had been all this while feeking after one for himself.

Mil. Poor Dick! And is plain honefly then a recommendation to no place at court?

Dick. It may recommend you to be a footman perhaps; but nothing further; nothing further indeed. If you look higher, you must furnish yourself with other qualifications: you must learn to fay ay or no, to run or ftand, to fetch or carry, or leap over a ftick, at the word of command. You must be mafter of the arts of flattery, infinuation, diffimulation, application, and (pointing to his palm) right application too, if you hope to fuc

ceed.

King. You don't confider I am a courtier, methinks. Dick. Not I indeed; 'tis no concern of mine what you are. If in general my character of the court is true, tis not my fault if 'tis disagreeable to your worship.— There are particular exceptions I own, and I hope you may be one.

King. Nay, I don't want to be flatter'd; fo let that pafs. Here's better fuccefs to you the next time you come to London.

Dick. I thank ye;-but I don't design to fee it again in hafte.

Mil. No, no, Dick; instead of depending upon lords promises, depend upon the labour of thine own hands; expect nothing but what thou canft earn, and then thou wilt not be difappointed. But come, I want a defcription of London;-thou haft told us nothing thou hast feen yet.

Dick. O'tis a fine place? I have feen large houfes with fmall hofpitality; great men do little actions; and fine ladies do nothing at all. I have seen the honeft lawyers of Weftminfter-hall, and the virtuous inhabitants of 'Change Alley; the politic madmen of coffee-houses, and the wife ftatefmen of Bedlam. I have seen merry tragedies and fad comedies; devotion at an opera, and

mirth at a fermon: I have feen fine cloaths at St James's, and long bills at Ludgate-hill. I have feen poor gran deur and rich poverty, high honours and low Battery, great pride and no merit. In fhort, I have feen a fool with a title, a knave with a penfion, and an honest man with a thread-bare coat.-Pray, how do you like Lon don?

Mil. And is this the best description thou can't give of it?

Dick. Yes.

King. Why, Richard, you are a fatirift, I find.

Dick. I love to fpeak truth, Sir; if that happens to be fatire, I can't help it.

Mil. Well, if this is London, give me my country cottage; which though it is not a great house nor a fine houfe, is my own houfe; and I can fhow a receipt for the building on't. But come, Sir, our fupper, I believe, is ready for us by this time; and to fuch as I have you're welcome as a prince.

King. I thank you.

SCENE changes to the Wood.

Enter feveral Keepers.

[Exeunt

Keep. The report of the gun was fomewhere this way, I'm fure.

2 Keep. Yes; but I can never believe that any body "would come a deer-ftealing fo dark a night as this? 3 Keep. Where did the deer harbour to-day.

6

4 Keep. There was a herd lay upon Hamilton-hill, another just by Robin Hood's chair, and a third here in Mansfield wood.

1 Keep. Ay; those they've been amongst.

2 Keep. But we shall never be able to find 'em tonight, 'tis fo dark.

'

3 Keep. No, no; let's go back again.

1 Keep. Zouns! you're afraid of a broken head, I fuppofe, if we fhou'd find 'em; and fo had rather flink back again. Hark! ftand clofe. I hear 'em coming this way.

"Enter the Courtiers.

1 Cour. Did not you hear fomebody just now? faith,