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my favour.

you again.

Sir John. Suppose it should : 'Tis always a Sir John. Wisdom is not confined to palaces; man's duty to be just; and doubly his with nor always to be bought with gold. I read often, whom the public trust their rights and liber- and think sometimes ; and he who does that, tïes.

may gain some knowledge, even in a cottage. King. I think so; nay, he, who cannot scorn As for any thing superior, I pretend not to it. the narrow interest of his own poor self, to What I have said, I hope, is plain good sense; at serve his country, and defend her rights, deserves least 'tis bonest, and well meant. not the protection of a country to defend his King. Sir John, I think so; and, to convince own; at least, should not be trusted with the you how much I esteem your plain-dealing and rights of other men.

sincerity of heart, receive this ring as a mark of Sir John. I wish no such were ever trusted.

King. I wish so, too: But how are kings to Sir John. I thank your majesty. know the hearts of men ?

King. Don't thank me now; at present I have Sir John. 'Tis difficult indeed; yet something business that must be uispatched, and will demight be done.

sire you to leave :ne; before 'uis long I'll see King. What?

Sir John. The man whom a king employs, or Sir John. I wish your majesty,a good night. a nation trusts, should be thoroughly tried. Exa

(Erit. mine his private character : Mark how he lives : King. Well, my lords, what do you think of Is he luxurious, or proud, or ambitious, or extra- this miller? vagant? avoid him: The soul of that man is 1st Cour. He talks well : what he is in the bot-. mean ; necessity will press him, and public tom, I don't know. fraud must pay his private debts. But if you 2d Cour. I'm afraid not sound. find a man with a clear head, sound judgemnt, 3d Cour. I fancy he's set on by somebody and a right honest heart--that is the man to to impose upon your majesty with this fair shew serve both you and his country.

of honesty. King. You're right; and such by me shall 1st Cour. Or is not he soune cunning knave ever be distinguished. 'Tis both my duty and that wants to work himself into your majesty's my interest to promote them. To such, if I tavour? give wealth, it will enrich the public; to such, King. I have a fancy come into my head to if I give power, the nation will be mighty ; to try hin; which I'll communicate to you, and put such, if I give honour, I shall raise my own. in execution immediately. An hour hence, my But surely, sir John, your's is not the language, lords, I shall expect to see you at sir John's. nor the sentiments of a common miller; how,

[Ereunt. in a cottage, could you gain this superior wisdom?



SCENE I. -A tavern.

I know her very well; how could I be so stupid

not to think of her? Greenwood, do you know Sir Timothy FLASHI, the LandLORD, and where our country neighbour, sir John Cockle, GREENWOOD.


Green. Yes, sir. Sir Tim. Honest Bacchus, how dost thou do? Sir Tim. Don't be out of the way then; I

Land. Sir, I am very glad to see you; pray, shall send a letter by you presently, which you when did you come to town?

must deliver privately into Niss Kitty's own hand. Sir Tim. Yesterday; and on an affair that I If she comes with you, I shall give you directions shall want a little of your assistance in.

where to conduct her, and do you come back Land. Any thing in my power, you know, you here and let me know. may command.

Green. Yes, sir. Poor Kitty! is it thus thy Sir Tim. You must know then, I have an in- falschood to me is to be punished? I will pretrigue with a young lady, that's just come to vent thy ruin, however.

[Erit. town with her father, and want an agreeable house to meet her at; can you recommend one

Sir TIMOTHY sings. to me?

Land. I can recommend you, sir, to the most O the pleasiny, pleasing joys, convenient woman in all London. Wbat think

Which in women we possess ! you of Mrs Wheedle?

O the raptures which arise ! Sir Tim. The best woman in all the world :

They alone have power to bless ! Vol. III.


Beauty smiling,


pray, Mrs Starch, which do you think the Wit beguiling,

most genteel walk now ? To trip it away o' Kindness charming,

this manner, or to swim smoothly along thus? Fancy warming,

Mrs Starch. They both become you extremeKissing, toying,

ly. Melting, dying.

Kitty. Do they really? I'm glad you think so, O the raptures which arise!

for, indeed, I believe you are a very good judge. O the pleasing, pleasing joys !

And, now think on't, I'll have your opinion in

something else. What do you think it is that Land. You are a merry wag,

makes a fine lady? Sir Tim. Merry, ay! why what is life without Mrs Starch. Why, madam, a fine person, fine enjoying the pleasures of it? Come, I'll write wit, fine airs, and fine clothes. this letter, and then, honest Bacchus, we'll taste Kitty. Well, you have told me already that what wine thou hast got.

[E.reunt. I'm very handsome, you know, so that's one

thing; but, as for wit, what's that? I don't know SCENE II.

what that is, Mrs Starch.

Mrs Starch. O madam, wit is, as one may say Miss Kitty and MRS STARCH.

-the-- the being very witty ; that isKitty. But pray, Mrs Starch, does all new fa- comical as it were ; doing something to make shions come up first at court?

every body laugh. Mrs Starch. O, dear madam, yes. They do Kitty. O, is that all ? nay, then, I can be as nothing else there but study new fashions. witty as any body, for I am very comical. Well, That's what the court is for : And we milliners, but what's the next? fine airs : 0, let me alone and tailors, and barbers, and mantua-makers, for fine airs; I have airs enough, if I can but get go there to learn fashions for the good of the lovers to practise them upon. And then, fine public.

clothes ; why, these are very fine clothes, I think; Kitty. But, madam; was not you saying just don't you think so, Mrs Starch? now, that it was the fashion for the ladies to Mrs Starch. Yes, madam. paint theinselves? Mrs Starch. Yes.

Enter Sir Jonn, observing them. Kitty. Well, that is pure; then one may be as handsome as ever one will, you know. And Kitty. And is not this a very pretty cap, too! if it was not for a few freckles, I believe I Does not it become me? should be very well; should not I, Mrs Starch? Mrs Starch. Yes, madam.

Mrs Starch. Indeed, madam, you are very Kitty. But don't you think this hoop a little handsome.

too big? Kitty. Nay, don't flatter me now; do you real- Sir John. No, no; too big ! no. Not above six ly think I am handsome?

or seven yards round. Mrs Starch. Upon my word, you are.

What Mrs Starch. Indeed, sir, 'tis within the circuma shape is there! What a genteel air! What a ference of the mode a great deal. sparkling eye!

Sir John. That it may be, but I'm sure it's bee Kitty. Indeed, I doubt you flatter me. Not yond the circumference of modesty a great deal. but I have an eye, and can make use of it too, as Killy. Lord, papa, can't you dress yourself as well as the best of them, if I please.

you've a mind, and let us alone? How should

you know any thing of womens' fashions? Come, SONG.

let us go into the next rooin. Though born in a country town,

[E.reunt Miss Kitty and Mrs Starch.
The beauties of London unknown,
My heart is as tender,

Enter Joe with GREENWOOD.
Mv waist is as slender,

Joe. Sir, here's one that you'll be very glad te
My skin is as white,
My eyes are as bright

Sir John. Who is it?—What, honest Green-
As the best of them all,

wood! May I believe my eyes? That twinkle or sparkle at court or ball. Green. Sir, I am very glad to see you; I hope I can ogle and sigh,

all your family are well. Then frown and be coy;

Sir John. Very well. But, for Heaven's sake, False sorrow

what has brought thee to London? What's the Now borrow,

meaning of this livery? I don't understand thee. And rise in a rage ;

Green. I don't wonder that you are surprised; Then languish

but I will explain myself. You know the faithIn angnish,

ful, honest love I bear your daughter; and you And softly, and softly engage.

are sensible, since the addresses of sir Timothy


Flash, how much her falsehood has grieved me; Green. Vain, foolish girl! for Heaven's sake, yet more for her sake, even than my own: my what alteration do you find in yourself for the own unhappiness I could endure with patience, better? In what, I wonder, does the fine lady but the thoughts of seeing her reduced to shame differ from the miller's daughter? Have you more and misery, I cannot bear.

wit, more sense, or more virtue, than you had beSir John. What dost thou mean?

fore? Or are you in any thing altered from your Green. I very much suspect his designs upon former self, except in pride, folly, and affectaher are not honourable.

tion? Sir John. Not honourable ! he dare not wrong Kitty. Sir, let me tell you, these are liberties me so ! But, go on.

that don't become you at all. Miller's daughter! Green. Immediately after you had left the Green. Come, come, Kitty; for shame! lay country, hearing that he was hastening to Lon- aside these foolish airs of the fine lady; return to don after you, and wanted a servant, I went and yourself, and let me ask you one serious question: offered myself, resolving, by a strict watch on all Do you really think sir Timothy designs to marry bis actions, to prevent, if possible, the ruin of you? her I cannot but love, how ill svever I have been Kitty. You are very impertinent to ask me treated. Not knowing me to be his rival, he such a question ; but, to silence your presumpbrought me along with him. We arrived in Lon- tion for ever-I'm sure he designs it. don yesterday, and I am now sent by him to give Green. I'm glad she thin so,

however. your daughter privately this letter.

(A side.). Nay, then, I do not expect you will reSir John. What can it tend to? I kuow not sign the flattering prospect of wealth and granwhat to think; but if I find he dares to mean we deur, to live in a cottage on a little farm. 'I'is wrong, by this good hand

true, I shall be independent of all the world; my Green. Then let me tell ye, he means you farm, however small

, will be my own, uninort, villainous wrong. The ruin of your daughter is gaged. contrived; I heard the plot; and this very letter Kiity. Psha! can you buy me fine clothes? is to put it in execution.

Can you keep me a coach? Can you make me a Sir John. What shall I do?

lady? If not, I advise you to go down again to Green. Leave all to me. I'll deliver the let your pitiful farm, and marry somebody suitable ter, and, by her behaviour, we shall know better to your rank. how to take our measures. But how shall I see her?

SONG. Sir John. She is in the next room; I'll go in and send her to you.

Adieu to your cart and your plough; Green. If you tell her who it is, perhaps she I scorn to milk your cow. will not be seen.

Your turkeys and grese, Sir John. I won't.

Erit. Your butter and cheese,

Are much below me now.
Enter Miss Kitty.

If ever I wed,

I'll hold up my head, Kitty. Bless me! is not that sir Timothy's li- And be a tine lady, I vow. very ! [ Aside.--Pray, sir, is sir Tunothy Flash come to town?

And so, sir, your very humble servant. Green. Yes, madain.

Green. Nay, madarn, you shall not leave me Kitty. Good lack ! is it you? What new whim yet; I have something more to say before we have you got in your head now, pray?

part. Suppose this worthy, honourable knight, Green. No new whim in my head, but an old instead of marriage, should only have a base deone in my heart, which, I am afraid, will not be sign upon your virtue? easily reinoved.

Kitty. He scorus it: No, he loves me, and I Kitty. Indeed, young man, I am sorry for it ; know will marry me. but you have had my answer already, and I won- Green. Dear Kitty, be not deceived; I know der you should trouble me again.

he will not. Green. And is it thus you receive me! Is this Kitty. You know nothing of the matter. the reward of all my faithful love?

Green. Read that, and be convinced. kitty. Can I help your being in love? I'ın

[She reads. sure I don't desire it; I wish you would not teaze

• My dear angel, me with your impertinent love any more.

Green. Why, then, did you encourage it? For, 'I could no longer stay in the country, when give me leave to say, you once did love me. you was not there to make it agreeable. I came

Kitty. Perhaps I might, when I thought mv- io town yesterday; and heg, if possible, you will, self but your equal; but now, I think, you can- this evening, make me happy with your coinnot, in modesty, pretend to me any longer. pany. I will meet you at a relation's ; my ser




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vant will conduct you to the house. I am im- Sir John. I'll come to him. Go you together,

patient till I throw myself into your arms, and d’ye hear, and contrive your design. . convince you how much I am,

[They go out severally. • Your fond and passiocate admirer, • TIMOTHY Flash.'

SCENE III. Kitty. Well, and what is there in this to con

Enter Sir John and the King, disguised as a vince me of his ill intentions?

collegiate. Green. Enough, I think. If bis designs are Sir John. No compliments, I tell ye, but come honourable, why are they not open? Why does to the point: What is your business? he not come to your father's house, and make his King. As I appear to you in the habit of a proposals? Why are you to be met in the dark, collegiate, you may fancy I am some queer peat a stranger's?

dantic fellow; but I assure you, I am a person of Kitty. Let me see I'll meet you at a rela- some birth, and had a liberal education. I have

LI tion's; my servant will conduct you;' indeed I seen the world, and kept the best company. But don't know what to think of that.

living a little too freely, and having spent the Green. I'll tell you, madam; that pretended greatest part of my fortune on women and wine, relation is a notorious hawd.

I was persuaded, by a certain nobleman, to take Kitty. 'Tis false; you have contrived this story orders, and he would give me a living, which he to abuse me.

said was coming into his hands. I was just clo Green. No, Kitty, so well I love you, that, if sing with the proposal, when the spiteful incumI thought his designs were just, I could rejoice bent recovered, and I was disappointed. in your happiness, though at the expence of my Sir John. Well, and what's all this to me?

King. Why, sir, there is a living now fallen, Kitty. You strangely surprise me! I wish 1 which is in the king's gift, and I hear you have knew the truth.

so good an interest with his majesty, that I am Green. To convince you of my truth, here is persuaded a word from you, in my favour, would a direction to the house in his own hand, which be of great service to me. he himself gave me, lest I should mistake: Whi- Sir John. And what must that word be, pray? ther, if you still doubt my sincerity, and think King. Nay, that I leave to you. proper to go, I am ready to be your conductor. Sir John. You are in the right; and I'll tell

Kitty. And is this the end of all bis designs ? you what it shall be. That you, being a sensehave I been courted only to my ruin? my eyes less, idle-headed fellow, and having ruined yourare now too clearly opened. What have I been self by your own folly and extravagance, you doing?

therefore think yourself highly qualified to teach Green. If you are but so convinced of your mankind their duty. Will that do? danger, as to avoid it, I am satisfied.

King. You are in jest, sir.

Sir John. Upon my word, but I am in earnest. Enter Sir John.

I think he that recommends a profligate wretch

to the most serious function in life, merely for Sir John. What do I hear? Are you recon- the sake of a joke, gives as bad a proof of his ciled, then ?

morals, as he does of his wit. Kitty. My dear father! I have been cheated King. Sir, I honour your plain-dealing. You and abused.

exactly answer the character I have beard of Sir John. I hope your virtue is untouched ? your uncominon sincerity; and, to let you see Kitty. That I will always preserve.

that I am capable of something, I have wrote a Sir John. Then I forgive you any thing. But poem in praise of that virtue, which I beg leave how shall we be revenged on this scoundrel to present to you, and hope you will receive it knight?


[Gives him the poem. Kitty. Contrive but that, and I am easy. Sir John. Sir, I am not used to these things :

Green. As his base designs have not been exe- I don't understand them at all; but let's seecuted, I think, if we could expose and laugh at [Sir John reads.)- A poem in praise of the inhim, it would be sufficient punishment.

comparable sincerity and uncommon honesty of Sir John. If it could be done severely. the worthy sir John Cockle,' &c.-- Enough, e

Kitty. I think it may. I believe I have found nough!—a poem in praise of sincerity, with a fulout a way to be revenged on bim; come with me some compliment in the very title, is extraordiinto the next room, and we'll put it in execution. nary indeed! Sir, I am obliged to you for your

kind intentions; your wit and your poetry may Enter a Servant.

be very fine, for aught I know; but a little more

common sense, I believe, could do you no harm. Ser. Sir, a gentleman desires to speak with King. He is not to be fattered, I find; but you.

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



bits every body's taste. (Aside.]-Shall I beg one

Enter Sir TIMOTHY, disguised as a maid-serFord more with you? Sir, you are a gentleman

vant. of the greatest sincerity and honour I ever met with, and, for that reason, I shall always have Sir Tim. Well, I am obliged to the dear gir the highest regard for you in the world, and for for this kind contrivance of getting me into the all that belongs to you. I hear your daughter is house with her. 'Twill be charmingly convegoing to be married ; let me beg leave to present nienther with this diamond buckle. Sir John. Sir, you surprise me very much ;

Re-enter Sir John. pray, what may the value of this be?

Sir Tim. Sir, I heard that the young lady, King. That's not worth mentioning—about five your daughter, wanted a servant, and I should be hundred pounds, I believe.

proud of the honour to serve her. Sir John. Why, did not you tell me, just now, Sir John. My daughter will be here presently. that you had spent all your fortune?

Pray, my dear, what's your name? King. I did so: but it was for a particular Sir Tim. Faith, I never thought of that; what reason; and you shall find I am not so poor as I shall I say? [Aside.}--Betty, sir. represented myself.

Sir John. And pray, Mrs Betty, who did you Sir John. I am glad of it. But, pray, how am

live with last? I to return this extraordinary generosity?

Sir Tim. Pox of his impertinence! he has King. I expect no return, sir, upon my bo- non-plussed me again.—[Aside.] Sir, 1–1-lived pour; though you have it in your power to ob- with sir Timothy Flash. lige me very much.

Sir John. Ah, a vile fellow that! a very vile Sir John. Don't mention the living, for that I fellow, was not he? Did he pay you your wages? have told you already you are not fit for.

Sir Tim. Yes, sir-I shall be even with you king. I won't. But there is a certain place for this by and by.

[Aside. at court of another kind, which I have long Sir John. You was well off, then; for they had a mind to : Tis true, there is a sorry, insigni- say its what he very seldom does. Sad pay ! ficant fellow in possession of it at present; but I can tell you, one part of your business must be he's of no service; and I know your power with to watch that villain, that he does not debauch the king; a word or two from you would soon my daughter : for I hear be designs it. But I dispossess him.

hope we shall prevent him. Sir John. But what must he be dispossessed Sir Tim. I'll take care of her, sir, to be surefor?

I burst with laughter to think how charmingly King. To make room for me, that's all. we shall gull the old fellow !

[Aside. Sir John. Hum-Indeed it won't do with Sir John. Kate ! me-here, take it again; and let me tell


I am not to be flattered into a foolish thing, nor

Enter Miss Kitty, bribed into a base one.

Here's a maid for you, Kate, if you like her. King. (discovering himself.] Then thou art my Kitty. O Lord ! a maid! why she's a monster! friend, and I will keep thee next my heart. I never saw so ugly a thing in all my life. Sir John. And is it your majesty?

Sir Tim. The cunning jade does this to blind King. Be not surprised; it is your own max

the old fool.

Aside. im, that a king cannot be too cautious in trying Kitty. Pray, child, what can you do? those whom he designs to trust. Forgive this

Sir Tim. I'll do the best I can to please you, disguise I have tried thy honesty, and will no madam, and I don't question but I shall do. longer suspect it.

Kitty. Indeed vou won't do.

Sir Tim. I hope I shall, madam, if you please Enter GREENWOOD.

Kitty. No, I durst not try you, indeed. Green. Sir, I am come to let Miss Kitty know Sir Tim. Why, madam ? privately, that my master will be here, disguised, Kitty. Methinks you look like a fool; I hate immediately.

Sir John. Will he? Well, go into the next Sir John. Nay, my dear, don't abuse the young room, and tell her so. If your majesty will be woman; upon my word, I think she looks mighty so good as to retire into this chamber a while, you well. Hold up your head, child. O Lord! Mrs will hear something, perhaps, that will divert you. Betty, you have got a beard, methinks.

[Strokes her under the chin. Enter Joe.

Kitty. What! has Betty got a beard ? Ha, ha, Joe. Sir, here's a maid-servant come to be ha! Ab, Betty! why did not you shave closer? hired.

But I told ye you was a fool! Sir John. Let her come in. I'll speak to her Sir John. Well-and what wages do you expresentiy.

[Exit with the king. pect, my dear?




to try me.

a fool.


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