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Sir John. She is in the next rooin; 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
yet; I have somethiug more to say before we Kitty. Bless me! is not that Sir Timothy's li
- part. Suppose this worthy, honourable knight, 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 you got in your head now, pray?
Green. Dear Kitty, be not deceived; I know Green. No new wbinu in my head, but an old be will vot. one in my heart, which, I am afraid, will not be Kitty. You know nothiog of the matter. easily removed.
Green. Read that, and be convinced. Kitty. Indeed, young man, I am sorry for it;
[She reads. but you have had my answer already, and I won
I der 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?
Iyou was not there to make it agreeable. I came Kitty. Can I help your being in love? I'm tu town yesterday; and heg, if 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 FLASB.' 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? In 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 make former self, except in pride, folly, and affecta- bis proposals ? Why are you to be met 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 servant 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 Timotlıy de Kitty. 'Tis false; you have contrived this story signs to marry you?
lo 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 presunp-I thought his designs werc 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 hand, which farm, lowever small, will be my own uumort- 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 ches your pitiful farm, and marry somebody suitable are now too clearly opened. What have I been to your rank.
Green. If you are but so convinced of your
danger, as to avoid it, I am satisfied.
Enter Sir Joun.
Sir John. What do I hear? Are you recon-
ciled, then ?
Kitty, My dear father! 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 (Sir John reads. A poem in praise of the inknight?
comparable sincerity and unconimon 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. I | 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. 1-Shall I beg one Ser. Sir, a gentleman desires to speak with word more with you? Sir, you are a gentleman you.
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 be? 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 babit 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 edacation. 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 persuaded, by a certain nobleman, to take nour; though you have it in your power to orders, and he would give ine a living, which he oblige me very inuch. said was coming into his hands. I was just clos- Sir John. Don't inention 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 fellow 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, pray?! Sir John. But what must he be dispossessed King. Nay, that I leave to you.
I for? 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 seuse- Sir John. Hum- Indeed it won't do with less, idle-beaded fellow, and having ruined your-me-here, take it again ; and let me tell you, I self by your own folly and extravagance, 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.
iny 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 recointends 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 morals, 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. esaaly answer the character I have heard of your uncommon sincerity; and, to let you see
Enter GREENWOOD. that I am capable of soinetbing, I have wrote al Green . Sir, I am come to let Miss Kitty know
privately, that my 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 Betty 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! Enter Joe.
Sir John. Well-and what wages do you ex
pect, my dear? Joe. Sir, here's a maid-servant come to bel' Kitty. Ay, what work do you design to do, my hired.
dear?" Sir John. Let her come in. I'll speak to her Sir John. How cleverly you have bit the old presently.
[Exit with the King. I fool, ha! Enter Sir TIMOTHY, disguised as a maid-servant. bim 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,
Alas! what hast thou done?
Poor knight! thy ser is gone!
Learn, henceforth, from this disaster,
When for girls you lay your plots,
That each miss erpects a master, live with last? Sir Tim. Pox on his impertinence! he has
In breeches, not in petticoats. non-plussed me again.-[Aside.] Sir, I-1-lived Sir John. Ha ha ha! with Sir Timothy Flash.
Kitty. I ha, ha, ha! Sir John. Ab, a vile fellow that! a very vile Sir Tim. Zoons! am I to be used in this manner? fellow, was not he? Did he pay you your wages? | And do you think I will bear it unrevenged?
Sir Tim. Yes, sir--I shall be even with you Kitty. And bave you the impudence to thivk 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 seldoni does. Sad pay!- 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 withiu, to watch that villain, that he does not debauch there? my daughter : for I hear he designs it.. But I hope we sball 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!
serves. Enter Miss Kitty.
Enter King, GREENWOOD, and Courtiers. Here's a maid for you, Kate, if you like her. 1 King. After what you have told me, I think
Kitty. O Lord! a maid! why she's a monster! | they cannot ase him too ill. Madam, I wish you I pever saw so ugly a thing in all my life. joy of your escape from the ruin which threaten
Sir Tim. The cunningjade 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 re
Sir 'T'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. T 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 Tim. 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 a fool.
her husband, but in the worthiness of his sen-, Sir John. Nay, my dear, don't abuse the youngtiments, and the fondness of his heart.. woman; upon my word, I thiuk she looks mighty' King. And now, my good old man, henceforth
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 bo
SCENE 1.—GAYLESS's lodgings. I to rely on so great vneertainty 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 ! eb? 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, Gaw. I tell thee, Sharp, last night Melissa con- pray, discharge one of us; for eat I must, and sented, and fixed to-morrow for the happy day. speedily too : and you know very well, that that
Sharp. 'Tis 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 man'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, while 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'myl Gay. Pr'ythee leave me to my thoughts. conscience I'll turn friend to the sex, rail po 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 Gox And vet. Sharo, when I think how I bave 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.
'Sharn. 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,