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[She reads.

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 seen.

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

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

Green. Nay, madam, you shall not leave me Kitty. Bless me! is not that Sir Timothy's li- | part. Suppose this worthy, honourable knight,

yet; I have somethiug more to say before we very! (Aside.}-Pray, sir, is Sir Timothy Flash instead of marriage, should have only a base decome to town.

sign upon your virtue? Green. Yes, madam.

Kitty. He scorns it : No, he loves me, and I Kitty. Good lack ! is it you? What new whim know he will marry me. have vou got in your head now, pray? Green. No new wbim in my bread, 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.

Green. Read that, and be convinced. Kitty. Indeed, young man, I am sorry for it ; 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 was not there to make it agreeable. I came Kitty. Can I help your being in love? I'm to town yesterday; and heg, it possible, you will, sure I don't desire it'; I wish you would not tcaze this evening, 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 arms, and convince you

Kitty. Perhaps I might, when I thought my- how much I am, seif 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 Heaven's sake, what alteration do you find in yourself for the Kitty. Well, and what is there in this to corbetter? !n wbat, I wonder, does the fine lady vince me of his ill intentions? differ from the miller's daughter? Have you more Green. Enough, I think. If his designs are wit, more sense, or more virtue than you had be- honourable, why are they not open? Why does fore? Or are you in any thing altered from your he vot come to your father's house, and wake former self, except in pride, folly, and affecta- his proposals ? Why are you to be net in the tion?

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

Green. Come, come, Kitty; for shame! lay I don't know what to think 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 Timotly 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 silence 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- Kitty. 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 land, which farm, bowever small, will be my own unmort- he himself gave me, lest I should mistake: Whi

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 cyes your pitiful farm, and marry sumebody suitable are now too clearly opened. Whar lave i been to your rank.

doing?

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

danger, as to avoid it, I am satisfied.
Adieu to your cart and your plough;
I scorn to milk your cow.

Enter Sir Joun.
Your turkeys and geese,

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

ciled, then ?

gaged.

YOU.

Kitty, My dear fatiser! 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 ? kindly.

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 seehow shall we be revenged on this scoundrel [S18 John reads.] ' A poem in praise of the inknight?

comparable sincerity and uncommon honesty of Kitty. Contrive but that, and I am easy. the worthy Sir John Cockle, &c.— Enough,

Green. As his base designs have not been exe-enough!-a poem in praise of sincerity, with a cuted, I think, if we could expose and laugh at fulsome compliment in the very title, is extraorhiin, 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 poetry 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 him; 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

I'll try what bribery will do. That, I'm afraid, Enter a Servant.

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

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, what may the value of this bei 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 a 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 find I am not so poor as I some birth, and had a liberal édacation. I have represented inyself. 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, King. I expect no return, sir, upon my hoI was persoaded, by a certain nobleman, to take nour; though you have it in your power to orders, and be would give me a living, which he oblige me very inuch. 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 lear 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,

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 wou't do with less

, idle-headed fellow, and having ruined your-me-here, take it again; and let me tell you, I self by your own folly and extravnyance, you am not to be flattered 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 Trorals, 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. your 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

pray?

privately, that iny 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 he? 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 Betly 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--and 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 ber come in. I'll speak to her Sir John. How cleverly you have bit the old presently

[Exit with the King. fool, ha ! Enter Sie 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. 'Twill 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 song. Sir Tim. Sir, I heard that the young lady,

SONG. 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 sex 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, live with last?

That each miss expects a master, Sir Tim. Pox on his impertinence! he has

In breeches, not in petticoats. non-plussed me again.-[ Aside.] Sir, I–I-lived Sir John. with Sir Timothy Flash.

Kitty. 3

Ha, ha, ha! Sir John. Ah, a vile fellow that! a very vile Sir s'im. Zoons! am I to be used in this manner? fellow, was not he? Did he pay you your wages? | And do you tbink I will bear it unrevenged?

Sir Tim. Yes, sir--I shall be even with you Kitty. And bave 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 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 withip, 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 ose 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 threaten

Sir 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. Iudeed you won't do.

ture conduct, to make amends for the uneasiness Sir Í'im. 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 sen- . Sir John. Nay, my dear, don't abuse the young timents, and the fondness of his heart. woman; upon my word, I think she looks mighty

King. And now, my good old pian, henceforth

pay!

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

[Exeunt omnes.

:

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SCENE I.-GAYLESS's lodgings. to rely on so great uneertainty as a fine lady's

mercy and good-nature. Enter GAYLESS and SHARP.

Gay. I know her generous temper, and am alShap. How, sir, shall you be married to-mor- most persuaded to rely upon it. What! because row ! eh? I'm afraid you joke with your poor I am poor, shall I abandon my honour? humble servant.

Sharp. Yes, you must, sir, or abandon me. So, Gay. I tell thee, Sharp, last night Melissa con pray, discharge one of ús; for eat I must, and sented, and fixed to-morrow for the happy day. speedily too : and you know very well, that that

Sharp. 'T'is well she did, sir, or it might have honour of yours will neither introduce you to a been a dreadful one for us in our present con- great map's table, nor get me credit for a single dition: all your money spent; your moveables beef-steak. sold ; your honour almost ruined, and your hum- Gay. What can I do? ble servant almost starved; we could not possi- Sharp. Nothing, whilc bonour sticks in your bly have stood it two days longer—But if this throat. Do, gulp, master, and down with it. young lady will marry you, and relieve us, o' my Gay. Prythee leave me to my thoughts. conscience I'll turn friend to the sex, rail no Sharp. Leave you ! No, not in such bad commore at matrimony, but curse the whores, and pany, I'll assure you. Why, you must certainly think of a wife myself.

be a very great philosopher, sir, to moralize and Gay. And yet, Sharp, when I think how I have declaim so charmingly as you do, about honour imposed upon her, I am almost resolved to throw and conscience, when your doors are beset with myself at her feet, tell her the real situation of bailiffs, and not one single guinea in your pocket my affairs, ask her pardon, and implore her pity. to bribe the villains.

Sharp. After marriage, with all my heart, sir; Guy. Don't be witty, and give your advice, but don't let your conscience and honour so far sirrah. get the better of your poverty and good sense, as Sharp. Do you be wise, and take it, sir. But,

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