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SCENE I.-A Room.
| Bar. The bag, sir.
Sir John. The bag, sir! and what's this bag Enter Sie John, Tailor, Barber, and Joe. for, sir ? this is not the fashion too, I hope? Tei. 'Tis the fashion, sir, I assure you.
Bar. It's what is very much wore, sir, indced. 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. Tai. But you would be like other folks, sir, Sir John. 0, 'tis an ornament ! I beg your par. woold 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, miglit as well be cased up in armour; here's buck- put it on! There, now, what do you think I rain and whalebone enough to turn a bullet. am like?
Joe. Sir, here's the barber has brought you Joe. Icod, measter, you're not like the same kone a new periwig.
mon, I'm sure.. Sir John. Let bim come in. Come, friend ! ! Bar. Sir, 'tis very genteel, I assure you. bet'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? I aught I know, but I'm sure 'tis very ugly.
Bar. They wear nothing else in France, sir. 1. 2d Court. He must certainly divert your ma
Sir John. In France, sir! what's France to jesty. me? I'ın an Englishman, sir, and know no right 3d 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, fangled 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. [Ereunt 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 have 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 wbicb your politeness would Aatter 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 wages 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 bimself of ill-deservings. Sound maxyear, no inore; and two or three servant under | ims, and right conduct, can never be ridiculed ; me 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. Cook. 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, I person, who calls himself Sir John Cockle, the a-la montmorancy; de duck en grinadin; de miller of Mansfield, begs admittance to your chicken a-la chombre; de turkey en botine; I 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 one little dish.
King. Honest Sir John Cockle, you are wel. Sir 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 bave no such cooks, I promise you ; it you do me, and am glad to find your majesty in is the luxury and extravagance introduced by lyood health. such French kickshaw-mongers as you, that has
King. But pray, Sir John, why in the habit of devoured and destroyed old English bospitality! I a miller yet? What I gave you was with a design Go! go about your business; I have no mind to to set you above the mean dependence of a trade be beggared, nor to beggar bonest tradesmen. for subsistence. Joe !
[Erit Cook. Sir John. Your majesty will pardon my freeJoe. Sir!
dom. Whilst my trade will support me, I am Sir John. Let my daughter know, the king has 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 inan, Joe. Yes, sir.
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 not trust the honour of Kiny. Well, my lords, our old friend, the inil- a king? ler of Mansfield is arrived at last.
Sir John. Without doubt I might trust your Ist Court, lle has been in town two or three inajesty very safely; but, in general, though the days; has not your majesty seen him 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 sball my lords, wbo are now present, to entertain inydare to call their honour in question ? self a while with his honest freedom. He will! King. Sir Jobn, you are in the right; and I am be here.presently,
glad to see you maintain that noble freedom of much.
spirit: I wish all my subjects were as indepen- more of this affair another time: but tell mne deot 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 ?
1 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. Fery 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
which some noblemen appear, I admire their King. In what?
riches; but when I hear of their debts, and their Sir John. You sball bear. Wlien I was only mortgages, I wonder at their folly. When I plaio John Cockle, the miller of Maasheld, a hear of a dinner costing an hundred pounds, I farmer's son, in the neigbbourhood, made love am surprised tbat 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 seat. But when your majesty's bounty had raised an estate of twenty or thirty thousand a year, I ny fortune and condition, my daughter, Kate, envy the man that has it in his power to do so became Miss Kitty: She grew a fine 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 Demen of the country. Amongst the rest, Sir of a gentleinan in horses and whores, and eating Timothy Flash, a young, rakish, extravagant and drinking, and dressing and gaming, I ain knight, made his addresses to her; his title, his surprised that the poor man is able to live. In 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 Englishınan a coward? rejoice that she was so prudent. What! do you King. Far from it. Let the generous spirit of think it no advantage to your daughter, nor ho- freedom reign unchecked : To speak bis mind, is nour to yourself, to be allied to so great a man? the undoubted right of every Briton; and be it
Sir John. It onay 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 all noor; but that is not always the case. Besides, grievances; to right all wrongs: But kings, alas ! nothing that is unjust, can be cither prudent or are but fallible men; errors in government will banourable: And the breaking her faith and pro- happen, as well as failings in private life, and mise with a man that loved, and every way de ought to be candidly imputed. And let me ask served her, merely for the sake of a little vanity, l 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 Dy 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 relkag with their children for marring foolishly say, the man, whom wealth or power can make for love; but you are so singular as to blame a villain, is sure unworthy of possessing either. yoar's for marrying wisely for interest. | King. Suppose self-interest, too, should clash
Sir Joka. Why, I may differ a little from the with publick duty ? Cormon 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 his with me to blame!
whom the public trust their rights and liberties. King. No: Singularity in the right is never al King, I think so; nay, he, who cannot scorn prinse. 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, scrve 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 Eudless of interest as your majesty may appre his own; at least, should not be trusted with tead. It is very possible a knight, 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 to hear I might 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 his private character: Mark how be 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 defraud must pay his private debts. But if you sire you to leave ine : before 'tis long I'll see find a man with a clear head, sound judgment, you again. and a right bonest heart-that is the man to Sir John. I wish your majesty a good night. serve both you and his country.
[Erit. King. You're right; and such by me shall King. Well, my lords, what do you think of ever be distinguished. Tis both my duty and this iniller? 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 mighty; to 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 he some cunning knare,
Sir John. Wisdom is not confined to palaces; that wants to work himself into your majesty's por 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 coitage. I try hini; 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 John's. at least 'tis honest, and well meant.
SCENE I.-A Tavern.
| falsehood to me is to be punished? I will prevent thy rain, however.
Sır 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.
Wit beguiling, you may 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
() the raptures which arise ! to me?
O the pleasing, pleasing joys !
Land. You are a inerry wag. convenient woman in all London. What ibink
Sir Tim. Marry, ay! why what is life without you of Mrs. Wheedle ? Sir Tim. The best woman in all the world : 1.
enjoying the pleasures of it? Come, I'll write
this letter, and then, honest Bacchus, we'll taste I know her very well; how could I be so stupid hot wine not to think of her? Greenwood, do you know
[Ereuni. where our country neighbour, Sir John Cockle,
SCENE II.- A Room. ladges? Green. Yes, sir.
Miss Kutty and Mrs. STARCH. Sir Tim. Don't be out of the way then; 1 Kitty. But pray, Mrs. Starch, does all new fushall 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 havd." 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 koow.
| lors, and barbers, and mantua-makers, go there Green. Yes, sir. Poor Kitty! is it thas thy I to learn fashions for the good of the public
Kitty. But, madam ; was not you saying just Enter Sir John, observing them. Now, that it was the fashion for the ladies to paint theniselves?
Kitty. And is not this a very pretty cap, too? Mrs. Starch. Yes.
Does not it become me? Kitty. Well, that is pure; then one may be
Mrs. Starch. Yes, madam. as handsome as ever one will, you know. And
Kitty. But don't you think this hoop a little if it was not for a few freckles, I believe It should be very well; should not 1, Mrs. Starch?
| Sir John. No, no; too big ! no. Not above six Mis. Starch. Indeed, madam, you are very
verilor seven yards round. handsome.
Mrs. Starch. Indeed, sir, 'tis within the cirKilly. Nay, don't fatter me now; do you
do vou cumference of the mode a great deal. really think I am handsome ?
"| Sir John. That it may be, but I'm sure it's beMrs. Starch. Upon my word, you are. What yond the circumference of modesty a great deal. a shape is there! What a genteel air! What a
Kitty. Lord, papa, can't you dress yourself as sparkling eye!
you've a miod, and let us alone? How should Kitly. Indeed, I doubt you flatter me. Not you know any thing of womens' fashions? Come, but I have an eye, and can make use of it too. I let us go into the next room. as well as the best of them, if I please.
[Exeunt Miss KJTTY and MRS. STARCH. SONG.
Enter Joe with GREENWOOD.
Joe. Sir, here's one that you'll be very glad to
see. My heart is as tender,
Sir John. Who is it?-What, bonest GreenMy waist is as slender,
wood ! May I believe my eyes? My skin is as white,
Green. Sir, I am very glad to see you ; I hope My eyes are as bright
all your family are well. As the best of them all,
Sir John. Very well. But, for Hearen's sake, That troinkle or sparkle at court or at ball. what has brought thee to London? What's the I can ogle and sigh,
meaning of this livery? I don't understand thee. Then frown and be coy;
Green. I don't wonder that you are surprised? False sorrow,
but I will explain myself. You know the faithNow borrow,
ful, honest love I bear your daughter; and you And rise in a rage ; .
| are sensible, since the addresses of Sir Timothy Then lunguish,
Flash, how inuch her falsehood has grieved me; In anguish,
| yet more for her sake, even than my own : my And softly, and softly engage.
own uphappiness I could endure with patience,
but the thoughts of seeing her reduced to shame But pray, Mrs. Starch, which do you think the and misery, I cannot bear. most genteel walk now? To trip it away o'this Sir John. What dost thou mean? manner, or to swim smoothly along thus?
Green. I very inuch suspect his desigus upon Mrs. Starch. They both become you extreme- her are not honcurable.
| Sir John. Not honourable ! he dare not wrong Kitty. Do they really ? I'm glad you think so, me so !--But, go on. for, indeed, I believe, you are a very good judge, Green. Immediately after you had left the And, now I think on't, I'll bave your opinion in country, hearing that he was hastening to Lonsomething else. What do you think it is that don after you, and wanted a servant, I went and makes a dne lady?
offered myself, resolving, by a strict watch on all Mrs. Starch. Why, madam, a fine person, fine his actions, to prevent, if possible, the ruin of wit, fine airs, and fine clothes.
her I cannot but lore, how ill soever I have been Kitty. Well, you have told me already that treated. Not knowing me to be his rival, he Im very handsome, you know, so that's one brought me along with him. We arrived in Lonthing ; but, as for wit, what's that? I don't know don yesterday, and I am now sent by him to give what that is, Mrs. Starch.
your daughter privately this letter. Mrs. Starch. O madam, wit is, as one may say Sir John. What can it tend to? I know not -the- the being very witry; that is-- what to think; but if I find he dares to mean me comical as it were; doing something to make wrong, by this good handevery body laugh.
Green, Then let me tell ye, he means you Kitty. O, is ihat all? nay, then, I can be as villainous wrong. The ruin of your daughter is witty as any body, for I am very comical. Well, contrived; I heard the plot; and this very letter but a hat's the next? five airs: 0, let me alone is to put it in execution. for fine airs; I have airs enough, if I can bus get! Sir John. What shall I do? lorers to practise them upon. And then, five Green, Leave all to me. I'll deliver the letclothes; wby, these are very fine clothes, I think; ter, and, by her behaviour, we shall know betrer don't you think so, Mrs. Starch?
how to take our wcasures. But how shall I see Mrs. Starch, Yes, madam.