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Title: The Toy Shop (1735) The King and the Miller of Mansfield (1737)

Author: Robert Dodsley

Editor: Harry M. Solomon

Release Date: June 21, 2011 [EBook #36491]

Language: English

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THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

THE TOY-SHOP

(1735)


THE KING AND THE MILLER OF MANSFIELD

(1737)


_ROBERT DODSLEY_

_Introduction by_

HARRY M. SOLOMON

Publication Number 218-219
WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY
University of California, Los Angeles
1983




GENERAL EDITOR

DAVID STUART RODES, _University of California, Los Angeles_

EDITORS

  CHARLES L. BATTEN, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  GEORGE ROBERT GUFFEY, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  MAXIMILLIAN E. NOVAK, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  NANCY M. SHEA, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
  THOMAS WRIGHT, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_

ADVISORY EDITORS

  RALPH COHEN, _University of Virginia_
  WILLIAM E. CONWAY, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
  VINTON A. DEARING, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  PHILLIP HARTH, _University of Wisconsin, Madison_
  LOUIS A. LANDA, _Princeton University_
  EARL MINER, _Princeton University_
  JAMES SUTHERLAND, _University College, London_
  NORMAN J. W. THROWER, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
  ROBERT VOSPER, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
  JOHN M. WALLACE, _University of Chicago_

PUBLICATIONS MANAGER

  NANCY M. SHEA, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_

CORRESPONDING SECRETARY

  BEVERLY J. ONLEY, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_

EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

  FRANCES MIRIAM REED, _University of California, Los Angeles_




INTRODUCTION


The career of ROBERT DODSLEY (1703-1764), or "Doddy" as Samuel Johnson
affectionately called him, resembles nothing so much as the rise of
Francis Goodchild in Hogarth's _Industry and Idleness_ (1747) series.
Like Goodchild, Dodsley began as a humble apprentice and, through
energy, ingenuity, and laudable ambition, grew prosperous and gained
the esteem of all London. Today Dodsley is remembered as the most
important publisher of his period, a man who numbered among his authors
Pope, Young, Akenside, Gray, Johnson, Burke, Shenstone, and Sterne.
His long-labored _Collection of Poems_ (1748) rescued many of
his contemporaries' works from pamphlet obscurity and even now
provides both the best and the most representative introduction to
mid-eighteenth-century English poetry. His twelve-volume _A Select
Collection of Old Plays_ (1744) made the lesser Elizabethan dramatists,
long out of print, available again.

It is one of the minor ironies of literary history that the man who did
so much to insure the survival of the poems and plays of others has had
his own almost entirely forgotten. For Dodsley was not always a
bookseller. When he escaped his country apprenticeship and fled to
London to work as a footman, Dodsley had his heart set on literary
distinction; and it was first as poet and later as playwright that he
came to the attention of the Town. Although a few of his poems are as
ingratiating as Dodsley himself is reported to have been, most are now
aesthetically irretrievable. His dramas, in contrast, remain
interesting. Two of the best--_The Toy-Shop_ (1735) and _The King and
the Miller of Mansfield_ (1737)--were much more popular than his
earlier poems and for a time made him seem the equal of fellow
dramatist Henry Fielding. So great was the vogue of these two works
that Dodsley has been described as the principal developer of the
sentimental or moralizing afterpiece.[1] Both works are short
afterpieces intended to complement or contrast with the full-length
play on the day's bill and both moralize conspicuously; the two plays
could, however, hardly be more different in tone and technique.

_The Toy-Shop_ grew out of Dodsley's admiration of and consequent
desire to emulate the witty raillery of Augustan satire. When he sent
Pope his newly minted collected poems, _A Muse in Livery_ (1732),
Dodsley also included an orphan muse in the packet. In February of 1733
Pope politely responded that he liked the play and would encourage John
Rich to produce it, but that he doubted whether it had sufficient
action to engage an audience. Dodsley apparently did all he could to
strengthen his acquaintance with Pope, including publishing a laudatory
_Epistle to Mr. Pope, Occasion'd by His Essay on Man_ in 1734; and the
following February when Rich finally produced _The Toy-Shop_ at Covent
Garden, some thought that Pope was the author and Dodsley's alleged
authorship a diversion. Understandably, Dodsley was delighted to have
his play even momentarily mistaken for the work of Alexander Pope.

_The Toy-Shop_ was enormously popular. "This little Performance,
without any Theatrical Merit whatsoever," the _Prompter_ wrote on 18
February, "received the loudest Applauses that I have heard this long
while, only on Account of its General and well-Adapted Satire on the
Follies of Mankind."[2] Dodsley's afterpiece was performed thirty-four
times during the 1735 season. In print it was even more in demand. For
his benefit performance on 6 February, Dodsley advertised that "Books
of the Toy-Shop will be sold in the House."[3] There were at least six
legitimate editions of the piece within the year. It was pirated,
translated into French, and subsequently anthologized in almost every
collection of English farces.[4]

Every critic has concurred with Pope in finding the play plotless. The
short first scene establishes the premise: that the Master of the shop
is "a general Satyrist, yet not rude nor ill-natur'd," who moralizes
"upon every Trifle he sells, and will strike a Lesson of Instruction
out of a Snuff-box, a Thimble, or a Cockle-shell" (p. 10). Working
within a tradition that includes Lucian's sale of philosophers and,
just after _The Toy-Shop_, Fielding's auction in _The Historical
Register, For the Year 1736_ (1737), Dodsley acknowledged that his
premise was adopted directly from Thomas Randolph's _Conceited Pedlar_
(1630). His metaphor of the world as "a great Toy-shop, and all it's
[_sic_] Inhabitants run mad for Rattles" (p. 45) recalls the brilliant
penultimate verse paragraph of "Epistle II" of Pope's _Essay on Man_,
wherein mankind is shown as eternally addicted to "toys" of one kind or
another:

    Pleas'd with this bauble still, as that before;
    Till tir'd he sleeps, and Life's poor play is o'er!

    (Lines 281-82)

With so many unmistakable resemblances to Pope in Dodsley's play, it is
not surprising that some spectators thought they detected the hand of
the author of _The Rape of the Lock_.

Following a hint from Pope that the strength of his afterpiece lay in
its mixture of morality and satire, Dodsley titled his work "A
Dramatick Satire" and begged indulgence in the epilogue for his "dull
grave Sermon" (p. 5). In fact, the merit of the work is the wit with
which the Master of the shop extemporizes over each sale. "Why, Sir,"
one character says, "methinks you are a new Kind of a Satirical Parson,
your Shop is your Scripture, and every piece of Goods a different Text,
from which you expose the Vices and Follies of Mankind in a very fine
allegorical Sermon" (p. 17). Jean Kern lists the satiric allegory as
one of the five major forms of dramatic satire during this period, but
judges _The Toy-Shop_ a failure in that genre because, instead of a
sustained allegory, Dodsley provides "a jumble of annotated sales of
abstractions with no controlling metaphor. The toys for sale are
interesting only for the value which the characters assign to them; the
result is a miscellany of characters assigning a miscellany of
values."[5] Thus, the problematic nature of a genre that attempts to
dramatize satire with no more than perfunctory recourse to plot or
characterization and Dodsley's failure to sustain consistently his
comparison between those objects that mankind values and mere toys both
contribute to the play's lack of "Theatrical Merit." It may also
suggest why _The Toy-Shop_ was even more popular in print than on the
stage. Nevertheless, even with all its dramatic inadequacies
acknowledged, the play retains a charming Tatler-esque ingenuity that
still amuses.

Income from _The Toy-Shop_ and the gift of a hundred pounds from Pope
allowed Dodsley to open, under the sign of Tully's Head, the bookshop
that was to become so important in the history of English literature.
Dodsley the bookseller did not cease writing; when _The King and the
Miller of Mansfield_ opened at Drury Lane on 29 January 1737, with
young Colley Cibber in the role of Henry II, it was evident that
Dodsley's stagecraft had improved. The play was a triumph, with
thirty-seven performances in 1737--the most popular play of the year
and one of the most popular plays of the century.

_The Toy-Shop_ had been Dodsley's attempt to adopt sophisticated city
ways; _The King and the Miller of Mansfield_ is a return to his "native
Sherwood." Instead of indulging in the sometimes labored, sometimes
second-hand wit and contemptuous satiric stance of the earlier play,
_The King and the Miller of Mansfield_ reflects the earnest
sentimentality and democratic impulse of the ballad, later printed in
Percy's _Reliques_ (1765), upon which the play is modeled. The plot is
simple. Henry II, lost and separated from his courtiers in Sherwood
Forest, is given shelter by honest John Cockle, a miller in nearby
Mansfield and one of His Majesty's Keepers of the Forest. Meanwhile, at
the miller's house, his son Dick and Dick's former sweetheart Peggy
plan how to gain access to the king so that he might redress the wrongs
done to their innocent love by the lust of the haughty Lord Lurewell.
By coincidence Lurewell is one of the courtiers lost in the forest. In
the final scene, with all the principals assembled, the king's identity
is made known and distributive justice dispensed.

Allardyce Nicoll argues that the success of _The King and the Miller of
Mansfield_ makes Dodsley the most important sentimentalist of the
thirties.[6] Certainly the play was frequently produced with revivals
of earlier sentimental works like Cibber's _Love's Last Shift_ (1696)
and Steele's _The Conscious Lovers_ (1723); and, in fact, it would be
difficult to find a list of definitive characteristics of sentimental
drama that Dodsley's play does not satisfy in every particular. The
bourgeois nobility and integrity of Dick and Peggy poignantly engage
the audience's pity and admiration, while the improbable resolution
affirms the inevitable triumph of goodness. There is even--what some
critics have required of sentimental drama--love of rural scenery and
use of native setting.[7]

Dodsley has cleverly integrated scene and theme in _The King and the
Miller of Mansfield_. The moral and social problem stressed in the play
is the existence and abuse of aristocratic privilege. Implicitly the
play assumes that rank should correlate with goodness. The king himself
is the best example of this. Alone at night in Sherwood Forest, Henry
asks himself, "Of what Advantage is it now to be a King? Night shews me
no Respect: I cannot see better, nor walk so well as another Man" (p.
11). Cut off from the trappings of monarchy he finds his common
humanity and, at the conclusion of the play, redresses the wrongs of
rank when he knights the instinctively noble miller and reproves the
vicious but hereditarily titled Lord Lurewell. His accidental
separation from the corruption of court and courtiers initiates Henry's
contact with John Cockle, representative of all the middle-class
virtues. Significantly, they are in the miller's environment: rural
England, symbol of uncorrupted beauty, correlative to the innocent
beauty of young Peggy before her acquaintance with Lords "of
Prerogative."[8]

As critics have noted, the whole sentimental movement in English drama
is opposed in tone to the cynical ethos of aristocratic privilege; but
Dodsley explicitly advocates a democratic sensibility that estimates
individual worth independent of the accident of birth. The "bourgeois
sententiae" of _The King and the Miller of Mansfield_ are certainly as
ideologically explicit as the arguments for the value of the mercantile
middle class in Lillo's _The London Merchant_ (1731).[9] Dodsley did,
after all, have working-class credentials; his years in "service"
furnished the materials for _Servitude: A Poem_ (1729) and _A Muse in
Livery_ (1732). The allegorical frontispiece to _A Muse in Livery_
shows a young man aspiring to knowledge, virtue, and happiness but
manacled by poverty to misery, folly, and ignorance, his foot chained
to a giant stone inscribed "Despair."

Despite the play's clear egalitarian sympathies, it seems excessive to
characterize Dodsley's work as "revolutionary" and to be reminded too
forcibly of the coming events in France. And yet, as has also been
suggested, things might now look different had there been a revolution
in England. Plays like Dodsley's discomforted the government. As
Fielding notes in the dedication of _The Historical Register, For the
Year 1736_, the _Gazetteer_ of 7 May 1737 had accused his play and
Dodsley's _The King and the Miller of Mansfield_ of aiming at the
overthrow of Walpole's ministry. "Bob Booty" reacted to this threat
from the stage by enacting legislation in June requiring that all new
plays and all alterations of old plays be approved by the Lord
Chamberlain; in contrast, the reaction of the monarchy to Dodsley's
work was much more ingenious. The third performance of _The King and
the Miller of Mansfield_, that from which the author was to receive the
proceeds, was held "By Command of their Royal Highness the Prince and
Princess of Wales." Both royal personages were present to honor the
apprentice from Mansfield. "The Boxes not being equal to the Demand for
Places, for the better Accommodation of the Ladies, Side Boxes [were]
made on the Stage."[10] Although the production of Dodsley's best play,
_Cleone_ (1758), was still twenty years in the future, it seems safe to
regard this night as the height of Dodsley's dramatic career.

_Auburn University_




NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION


 1. Leo Hughes, _A Century of English Farce_ (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1956), 126.

 2. _The London Stage 1660-1800: Part 3: 1729-1747_, ed. Arthur H.
Scouten (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1961), 457.

 3. Ibid., 458.

 4. Ralph Straus, _Robert Dodsley: Poet, Publisher and Playwright_
(London: John Lane, 1910), 35.

 5. Jean B. Kern, _Dramatic Satire in the Age of Walpole_, 1720-1750
(Ames: Iowa State University Press, 1976), 149.

 6. Allardyce Nicoll, _A History of English Drama 1660-1900_, 6
vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1955-60), 2:204.

 7. For a survey of attempts to characterize sentimental drama, see
Arthur Sherbo, _English Sentimental Drama_ (East Lansing: Michigan
State University Press, 1957).

 8. John Loftis, _The Politics of Drama in Augustan England_ (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1963), 116-17.

 9. Laura Brown, _English Dramatic Form, 1660-1760: An Essay in
Generic History_ (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981), 148.

10. _London Stage: Part 3_, 635.


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

_The Toy-Shop_ (1735) is reproduced from the copy of the first edition
in the Henry E. Huntington Library (Shelf Mark: 152063). A typical
type-page (p. 23) measures 135 x 72 mm.

_The King and the Miller of Mansfield_ (1737) is reproduced from the
copy of the first edition in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
(Shelf Mark: *PR3409/D7K5). A typical type-page (p. 13) measures 145 x
73 mm.




THE TOY-SHOP.

A Dramatick Satire.


By ROBERT DODSLEY,

Author of _The Art of Charming_.

[Illustration: _First Edition._]

_LONDON:_

Printed for LAWTON GILLIVER, at _Homer's Head_, against
St. _Dunstan's_ Church, in _Fleet-street_. 1735.




EPILOGUE.


    _Well, Heav'n be prais'd, this dull grave Sermon's done.
    (For faith our Author might have call'd it one)
    I wonder who the Devil he thought to please!
    Is this a Time o' Day for Things like these?
    Good Sense and honest Satire now offend;
    We're grown too wise to learn, too proud to mend.
    And so divinely wrapt in Songs and Tunes,
    The next wise Age will all be----Fiddlers Sons.
    And did he think plain Truth wou'd Favour find?
    Ah! 'tis a Sign he little knows Mankind!
    To please, he ought to have a Song or Dance,
    The Tune from_ Italy, _the Caper_ France:
    _These, these might charm----But hope to do't with Sense!
    Alas, alas, how vain is the Pretence!
    But, tho' we told him,----Faith, 'twill never do.--
    Pho, never fear, he cry'd, tho' grave, 'tis new:
    The Whim, perhaps, may please, if not the Wit.
    And, tho' they don't approve, they may permit.
    If neither this nor that will intercede,
    Submissive bond, and thus for Pardon plead._

      _"To gen'rous Few, to you our Author sues
    His first Essay with Candour to excuse.
    'T has Faults, he owns, but, if they are but small,
    He hopes your kind Applause will hide them all."_




Dramatis Personæ.


  _MEN._

  Master of the Shop, Mr. _Chapman_.
  1 }                 Mr. _Bridgewater_.
  2 } Gentleman,      Mr. _Wignell_.
  3 }                 Mr. _Hallam_.
  4 }                 Mr. _Hale_.
  Beau.               Mr. _Neale_.
  1 } Old Man,        Mr. _James_.
  2 }                 Mr. _Hippisley_.


  _WOMEN._

  1 }                 Mrs. _Bullock_.
  2 } Lady,           Miss _Norsa_.
  3 }                 Mrs. _Mullart_.
  4 }                 Miss _Bincks_.




THE TOY-SHOP.


SCENE _a Parlour._ _A Gentleman and two Ladies, drinking Tea._

_Gent._ And you have never been at this extraordinary Toy-shop, you
say, Madam?

_1 La._ No, Sir: I have heard of the Man, indeed; but most People say,
he's a very impertinent, silly Fellow.

_Gent._ That's because he sometimes tells them of their Faults.

_1 La._ And that's sufficient. I should think any Man impertinent that
should pretend to tell me of my Faults, if they did not concern him.

_Gent._ Yes, Madam. But People that know him take no Exceptions. And
really, tho' some may think him impertinent, in my Opinion, he's very
entertaining.

_2 La._ Pray, who is this Man you're talking of? I never heard of him.

_Gent._ He's one who has lately set up a Toy-shop, Madam, and is,
perhaps, the most extraordinary Person in his Way that ever was heard
of. He is a general Satyrist, yet not rude nor ill-natur'd. He has got
a Custom of moralizing upon every Trifle he sells, and will strike a
Lesson of Instruction out of a Snuff-box, a Thimble, or a Cockle-shell.

_1 La._ Isn't he cras'd?

_Gent._ Madam, he may be call'd a Humourist; but he does not want
Sense, I do assure you.

_2 La._ Methinks I should be glad to see him.

_Gent._ I dare say you will be very much diverted. And if you'll please
to give me Leave, I'll wait on you. I'm particularly acquainted with
him.

_2 La._ What say you, Madam, shall we go?

_1 La._ I can't help thinking he's a Coxcomb; however, to satisfy
Curiosity I don't care if I do.

_Gent._ I believe the Coach is at the Door.

_2 La._ I hope he won't affront us.

_Gent._ He won't designedly, I'm sure, Madam.              [_Exeunt._


_Scene changes to the Toy-Shop, the Master standing behind the Counter
looking over his Books._

_Mast._ Methinks I have had a tolerable good Day of it to-day. A Gold
Watch, Five and Thirty Guineas----Let me see----What did that Watch
stand me in?----Where is it? O here----Lent [_Turning to another book
backwards and forwards._] to Lady _Basset_ Eighteen Guineas upon her
Gold Watch. Ay, she died and never redeem'd it.--A Set of old China,
Five Pounds.--Bought of an old Cloaths Man for Five Shillings.
Right.--A curious Shell for a Snuff-box, Two Guineas.--Bought of a poor
Fisher-boy for a Half-penny. Now, if I had offer'd that Shell for
Sixpence, no body would have bought it. Well, Thanks to the whimsical
Extravagance and Folly of Mankind, I believe, from these childish Toys
and gilded Baubles, I shall pick up a comfortable Maintenance. For,
really, as it is a trifling Age, so Nothing but Trifles are valued in
it. Men read none but trifling Authors, pursue none but trifling
Amusements, and contend for none but trifling Opinions. A trifling
Fellow is prefer'd, a trifling Woman admir'd. Nay, as if there were not
real Trifles enow, they now make Trifles of the most serious and
valuable Things. Their Time, their Health, their Money, their
Reputation, are trifled away. Honestly is become a Trifle, Conscience a
Trifle, Honour a mere Trifle, and Religion the greatest Trifle of all.

_Enter the Gentleman and the two Ladies._

_Mast._ Sir, your humble Servant, I'm very glad to see you.

_Gent._ Sir, I am yours. I have brought you some Customers here.

_Mast._ You are very good, Sir. What do you please to want, Ladies?

_1 La._ Please to want! People seldom please to want any thing, Sir.

_Mast._ O dear Madam, yes; I always imagine when People come into a
Toy-shop, it must be for something they please to want.

_2 La._ Here's a mighty pretty Looking Glass; Pray, Sir, what's the
Price of it?

_Mast._ This Looking Glass, Madam, is the finest in all _England_. In
this Glass a Coquet may see her Vanity, and a Prude her Hypocrisy. Some
fine Ladies may see more Beauty than Modesty, more Airs than Graces,
and more Wit than Good-nature.

_1 La._ [_Aside._] He begins already.

_Mast._ If a Beau was to buy this Glass, and look earnestly in it, he
might see his Folly almost as soon as his Finery. 'Tis true, some
People may not see their Generosity in it, nor others their Charity,
yet it is a very clear Glass. Some fine Gentlemen may not see their
Good-manners in it perhaps, nor some Parsons their Religion, yet it is
a very clear Glass. In short, tho' every one that passes for a Maid
should not happen to see a Maidenhead in it, yet it may be a very clear
Glass, you know, for all that.

_2 La._ Yes, Sir, but I did not ask you the Virtues of it, I ask'd you
the Price.

_Mast._ It was necessary to tell you the Virtues, Madam, in order to
prevent your scrupling the Price, which is five Guineas, and for so
extraordinary a Glass, in my Opinion, it is but a Trifle.

_2 La._ Lord, I'm afraid to look in it, methinks, lest it should show
me more of my Faults than I care to see.

_1 La._ Pray, Sir, what can be the Use of this very diminutive piece of
Goods here?

_Mast._ This Box, Madam? In the first Place, it is a very great
Curiosity, being the least Box that ever was seen in _England_.

_1 La._ Then a very little Curiosity had been more proper.

_Mast._ Right, Madam. Yet, would you think it, in this same little Box,
a Courtier may deposite his Sincerity, a Lawyer may screw up his
Honesty, and a Poet may----hoard his Money.

_Gent._ Ha, ha, ha, I will make a Present of it to Mr. _Stanza_ for the
very same Purpose.

_2 La._ Here's a fine Perspective. Now, I think, Madam, in the Country
these are a very pretty Amusement.

_Mast._ O, Madam, the most useful and diverting things imaginable
either in Town or Country. The Nature of this Glass, Madam, (pardon my
impertinence in pretending to tell you what to be sure you are as well
acquainted with as myself) is this. If you look thro' it at this end
every Object is magnified, brought near, and discern'd with the
greatest Plainness; but turn it the other way, do ye see, and they are
all lessen'd, cast at a great Distance, and rendered almost
imperceptible. Thro' this End it is that we look at our own Faults, but
when other People's are to be examined, we are ready enough to turn the
other. Thro' this End are view'd all the Benefits and Advantages we at
any time receive from others; but if ever we happen to confer any, they
are sure to be shown in their greatest Magnitude thro' the other. Thro'
this we enviously darken and contract the Virtue, the Merit, the Beauty
of all the World around us; but fondly Compliment our own with the most
agreeable and advantageous Light thro' the other.

_2 La._ Why, Sir, methinks you are a new Kind of a Satirical Parson,
your Shop is your Scripture, and every piece of Goods a different Text,
from which you expose the Vices and Follies of Mankind in a very fine
allegorical Sermon.

_Mast._ Right, Madam, right; I thank you for the Simile. I may be
call'd a Parson indeed, and am a very good one in my way. I take
delight in my Calling, and am never better pleased than to see a full
Congregation. Yet it happens to me as it does to most of my Brethren,
People sometimes vouchsafe to take home the Text perhaps, but mind the
Sermon no more than if they had not heard one.

_1 La._ Why, Sir, when a short Text has more in it than a long Sermon,
it's no wonder if they do.

          _Enter a third Lady._

_3 Lady._ Pray, Sir, let me look at some of your little Dogs.

_2 La._ [_Aside._] Little Dogs! My Stars! How cheaply some People are
entertain'd! Well, it's a Sign human Conversation is grown very low and
insipid, whilst that of Dogs and Monkeys is preferr'd to it.

_Mast._ Here are very beautiful Dogs, Madam, these Dogs when they were
alive were some of them the greatest Dogs of their Age. I don't mean
the largest, but Dogs of the greatest Quality and Merit.

_1 La._ I love a _Dog of Merit_ dearly; has not he a _Dog of Honour_
too, I wonder? [_Aside._]

_Mast._ Here's a Dog now that never eat but upon Plate or China, nor
set his Foot but upon a Carpet or a Cushion. Here's one too, this Dog
belong'd to a Lady of as great Beauty and Fortune as any in _England_;
he was her most intimate Friend and particular Favourite; and upon that
Account has receiv'd more Compliments, more Respect, and more Addresses
than a First Minister of State. Here's another which was, doubtless, a
Dog of singular Worth and great Importance; since at his Death one of
the greatest Families in the Kingdom were all in Tears, receiv'd no
Visits for the space of a Week, but shut themselves up and mourn'd
their Loss with inconsolable Sorrow. This Dog while he liv'd, either
for Contempt of his Person, neglect of his Business, or saucy
impertinent Behaviours in their Attendance on him, had the Honour of
turning away upwards of thirty Servants. He died at last of a Cold
caught by following one of the Maids into a damp Room, for which she
lost her Place, her Wages, and her Character.

_3 Lady._ O the careless wicked Wretch! I would have had her try'd for
Murder at least. That, that is just my Case! The sad Relation revives
my Grief so strongly I cannot contain. _Lucy_, bring in the Box.[1] O I
have lost the dearest Friend in the World! See! see the charming
Creature, here, lies dead! Its precious Life is gone! Oh, my dear
_Chloe_! no more wilt thou lie hugg'd in my warm Bosom! no more will
that sweet Tongue lick o'er my Face, nor that dear Mouth eat dainty
Bits from mine. O, Death, what hast thou robb'd me of?

          [1] _Here her Maid enters and delivers a Box, from which the
          Lady pulls out a dead Dog, kissing it, and weeping._ Lucy
          _too pretends great Sorrow, but turning aside bursts out a
          Laughing, and cries, "She little thinks I poison'd it."_

_Gent._ [_Aside._] A proper Object to display your Folly.

_Mast._ Pray, Madam, moderate your Grief; you ought to thank Heaven
'tis not your Husband.

_3 La._ Oh, what is Husband, Father, Mother, Son, to my dear, precious
_Chloe_!----No, no, I cannot live without the Sight of his dear Image;
and if you cannot make me the exact Effigies of this poor dead
Creature, and cover it with his own dear Skin, so nicely that it cannot
be discern'd, I must never hope to see one happy Day in Life.

_Mast._ Well, Madam, be comforted, I will do it to your Satisfaction.
                                                   [_Taking the Box._

_3 Lady._ Let me have one look more. Poor Creature! O cruel Fate, that
Dogs are born to die.                              [Exit _weeping_.

_Gent._ What a Scene is here! Are not the real and unavoidable Evils of
Life sufficient, that People thus create themselves imaginary Woes?

_Mast._ These, Sir, are the Griefs of those that have no other. Did
they once truly feel the real Miseries of Life, ten thousand Dogs might
die without a Tear.

          _Enter a second Gentleman._

_2 Gent._ I want an Ivory Pocket-book.

_Mast._ Do you please to have it with Directions, or without?

_2 Gent._ Directions! what, how to use it?

_Mast._ Yes, Sir.

_2 Gent._ I should think, every Man's own Business his best Direction.

_Mast._ It may so. Yet there are some general Rules, which it equally
behoves every Man to be acquainted with. As for Instance: Always to
make a Memorandum of the Benefits you receive from others. Always to
set down the Faults or Failings, which from Time to Time you discover
in yourself. And, if you remark any Thing that is ridiculous or faulty
in others, let it not be with an ill-natur'd Design to hurt or expose
them, at any Time, but with a _Nota bene_, that it is only for a
Caution to your self, not to be guilty of the like. With a great many
other Rules of such a Nature as makes one of my Pocket-books both a
useful Monitor and a very entertaining Companion.

_2 Gent._ And pray, what's the Price of one of them?

_Mast._ The Price is a Guinea, Sir.

_2 Gent._ That's very dear. But, as it's a Curiosity----[_Pays for it,
and_ Exit.]

          _Enter a_ Beau.

_Beau._ Pray, Sir, let me see some of your handsomest Snuff-boxes.

_Mast._ Here's a plain Gold one, Sir, a very neat Box; here's a Gold
enamell'd; here's a Silver one neatly carv'd and gilt; here's a curious
Shell, Sir, set in Gold.

_Beau._ Dam your Shells; there's not one of them fit for a Gentleman to
put his Fingers into. I want one with some pretty Device on the Inside
of the Lid; something that may serve to joke upon, or help one to an
Occasion to be witty, that is, smutty, now and then.

_Mast._ And are witty and smutty then synonimous Terms?

_Beau._ O dear Sir, yes; a little decent Smutt is the very Life of all
Conversation. 'Tis the Wit of Drawing-Rooms, Assemblies, and
Tea-tables. 'Tis the smart Raillery of fine Gentlemen, and the innocent
Freedom of fine Ladies. 'Tis a _Double Entendre_, at which the Coquet
laughs, the Prude looks grave, the Modest blush, but all are pleas'd
with.

_Mast._ That it is the Wit and the Entertainment of all Conversations,
I believe, Sir, may, possibly, be a Mistake. 'Tis true, those who are
so rude as to use it in all Conversations, may possibly be so deprav'd
themselves, as to fancy every body else as agreeably entertain'd in
hearing it as they are in uttering it: But I dare say, any Man or
Woman, of real Virtue and Modesty, has as little Taste for such
Ribaldry as those Coxcombs have for what is good Sense or true
Politeness.

_Beau._ Good Sense, Sir! Damme, Sir, what do you mean? I would have you
think, I know good Sense as well as any Man. Good Sense is a true----a
right----a----a----a----Dam it, I wo'nt be so pedantick as to make
Definitions: But I can invent a cramp Oath, Sir; drink a smutty Health,
Sir; ridicule Priests, laugh at all Religion, and make such a grave
Prig as you look just like a Fool, Sir. Now, I take this to be good
Sense.

_Mast._ And I unmov'd can hear such senseless Ridicule, and look upon
its Author with an Eye of Pity and Contempt. And I take this to be good
Sense.

_Beau._ Pshaw, pshaw; damn'd Hypocrisy and Affectation; Nothing
else, nothing else.                                          [_Exit._

_Mast._ There is Nothing so much my Aversion as a Coxcomb. They are a
Ridicule upon humane Nature, and make one almost asham'd to be of the
same Species. And, for that Reason, I can't forbear affronting them
whenever they fall in my Way. I hope the Ladies will excuse such
Behaviour in their Presence.

_2 La._ Indeed, Sir, I wish we had always somebody to treat them with
such Behaviour in our Presence. 'Twould be much more agreeable than
their Impertinence.

          _Enter a_ Young Gentleman.

_3 Gent._ I want a plain Gold Ring, Sir, exactly this Size.

_Mast._ Then 'tis not for yourself, Sir.

_3 Gent._ No.

_Mast._ A Wedding Ring, I presume.

_3 Gent._ No, Sir, I thank you kindly, that's a Toy I never design to
play with. 'Tis the most dangerous Piece of Goods in your whole Shop.
People are perpetually doing themselves a Mischief with it. They hang
themselves fast together first, and afterwards are ready to hang
themselves separately, to get loose again.

_1 La._ This is but the fashionable Cant. I'll be hang'd if this
pretended Railer at Matrimony is not just upon the Point of making some
poor Woman miserable. [_Aside._]

_3 Gent._ Well----happy are we whilst we are Children; we can then lay
down one Toy and take up another, and please ourselves with Variety:
But growing more foolish as we grow older, there's no Toy will please
us then but a Wife; and that, indeed, as it is a Toy for Life, so it is
all Toys in one. She's a Rattle in a Man's Ears which he cannot throw
aside: A Drum that is perpetually beating him a Point of War: A Top
which he ought to whip for his Exercise, for like that she is best when
lash'd to sleep: A Hobby-Horse for the Booby to ride on when the Maggot
takes him: A----

_Mast._ You may go on, Sir, in this ludicrous Strain, if you please,
and fancy 'tis Wit; but, in my Opinion, a good Wife is the greatest
Blessing, and the most valuable possession, that Heaven in this Life
can bestow. She makes the Cares of the World sit easy, and adds a
Sweetness to its Pleasures. She is a Man's best Companion in
Prosperity, and his only Friend in Adversity. The carefullest Preserver
of his Health, and the kindest Attendant on his Sickness. A faithful
Adviser in Distress, a Comforter in Affliction, and a prudent Manager
of all his Domestick Affairs.

_2 La._ [_Aside._] Charming Doctrine!

_3 Gent._ Well, Sir, since I find you so staunch an Advocate for
Matrimony, I confess 'tis a Wedding-Ring I want; the Reason why I
deny'd it, and of what I said in Ridicule of Marriage, was only to
avoid the Ridicule which I expected from you upon it.

_Mast._ Why that now is just the Way of the World in every Thing,
especially, amongst young People. They are asham'd to do a good Action
because it is not a fashionable one, and in Compliance with Custom act
contrary to their own Consciences. They displease themselves to please
the Coxcombs of the World, and chuse rather to be Objects of divine
Wrath than humane Ridicule.

_3 Gent._ 'Tis very true, indeed. There is not one Man in Ten Thousand
that dare be virtuous for Fear of being singular. 'Tis a Weakness which
I have hitherto been too much guilty of my self; but for the future I
am resolv'd upon a more steady Rule of Action.

_Mast._ I am very glad of it. Here's your Ring, Sir. I think it comes
to about a Guinea.

_3 Gent._ There's the Money.

_Mast._ Sir, I wish you all the Joy that a good Wife can give you.

_3 Gent._ I thank you, Sir.                                  [_Exit._

_1 La._ Well, Sir, but, after all, don't you think Marriage a Kind of a
desperate Venture?

_Mast._ It is a desperate Venture, Madam, to be sure. But, provided
there be a tolerable Share of Sense and Discretion on the Man's part,
and of Mildness and Condescension on the Woman's, there is no danger of
leading as happy and as comfortable a Life in that State as in any
other.

          _Enter a fourth Lady._

_4 Lady._ I want a Mask, Sir, Have you got any?

_Mast._ No, Madam, I have not one indeed. The People of this Age are
arriv'd to such perfection in the Art of masking themselves, that they
have no Occasion for any Foreign Disguises at all. You shall find
Infidelity mask'd in a Gown and Cassock; and wantonness and immodesty
under a blushing Countenance. Oppression is veil'd under the Name of
Justice, and Fraud, and Cunning under that of Wisdom. The Fool is
mask'd under an affected Gravity, and the vilest Hypocrite under the
greatest Professions of Sincerity. The Flatterer passes upon you under
the Air of a Friend; and he that now huggs you in his Bosom, for a
Shilling would cut your Throat. Calumny and Detraction impose
themselves upon the World for Wit, and an eternal Laugh wou'd fain be
thought Good-nature. An humble Demeaner is assum'd from a Principle of
Pride, and the Wants of the Indigent relieved out of Ostentation. In
short, Worthlessness and Villany are oft disguis'd and dignified in
Gold and Jewels, whilst Honesty and Merit lie hid under Raggs and
Misery. The whole World is in a Mask, and it is impossible to see the
natural Face of any one Individual.

_4 Lady._ That's a Mistake, Sir, you your self are an Instance, that no
Disguise will hide a Coxcomb; and so your humble Servant.

_Mast._ Humph!----Have I but just now been exclaiming against Coxcombs,
and am I accused of being one my self? Well----we can none of us see
the ridiculous Part of our own Characters. Could we but once learn to
criticize ourselves; and to find out and expose to our selves our own
weak Sides, it would be the surest Means to conceal them from the
Criticism of others. But I would fain hope I am not a Coxcomb,
methinks, whatever I am else.

_Gent._ I suppose you have said something which her Conscience would
not suffer her to pass over without making the ungrateful Application
to herself, and that, as it often happens, instead of awaking in her a
Sense of her Fault, has only serv'd to put her in a Passion.

_Mast._ May be so indeed. At least I am willing to think so.

          _Enter an old Man._

_O. M._ I want a pair of Spectacles, Sir.

_Mast._ Do you please to have 'em plain Tortoise-shell, or set in Gold
or Silver?

_O. M._ Pho! Do you think I buy Spectacles as your fine Gentlemen buy
Books? If I wanted a pair of Spectacles only to look _at_, I would have
'em fine ones; but as I want them to look _with_, do ye see, I'll have
'em good ones.

_Mast._ Very well, Sir. Here's a pair I'm sure will please you. Thro'
these Spectacles all the Follies of Youth are seen in their true Light.
Those Vices which to the strongest youthful Eyes appear in Characters
scarce legible, are thro' these Glasses discern'd with the greatest
Plainness. A powder'd Wig upon an empty Head, attracts no more respect
thro' these Opticks than a greasy Cap; and the Lac'd Coat of a Coxcomb
seems altogether as contemptible as his Footman's Livery.

_O. M._ That indeed is showing things in their true Light.

_Mast._ The common Virtue of the World appears only a Cloak for
Knavery; and it's Friendships no more than Bargains of Self-Interest.
In short, he who is now passing away his Days in a constant Round of
Vanity, Folly, Intemperance, and Extravagance, when he comes seriously
to look back upon his past Actions, thro' these undisguising Opticks,
will certainly be convinc'd, that a regular Life, spent in the Study of
Truth and Virtue, and adorn'd with Acts of Justice, Generosity,
Charity, and Benevolence, would not only have afforded him more Delight
and Satisfaction in the present Moment, but would likewise have rais'd
to his Memory a lasting Monument of Fame and Honour.

_O. M._ Humph! 'Tis very true; but very odd that such serious Ware
should be the Commodity of a Toy-shop. [_Aside._] Well, Sir, and what's
the Price of these extraordinary Spectacles?

_Mast._ Half a Crown.

_O. M._ There's your Money.                                  [_Exit._

          _Enter a fourth young Gentleman._

_4 Gent._ I want a small pair of Scales.

_Mast._ You shall have them, Sir.

_4 Gent._ Are they exactly true?

_Mast._ The very Emblem of Justice, Sir, a Hair will turn 'em.
[_Ballancing the Scales._]

_4 Gent._ I would have them true, for they must determine some very
nice statical Experiments.

_Mast._ I'll engage they shall justly determine the nicest Experiments
in Staticks, I have try'd them my self in some uncommon Subjects, and
have prov'd their Goodness. I have taken a large Handful of Great Men's
Promises, and put into one end; and lo! the Breath of a Fly in the
other has kick'd up the Beam. I have seen four Peacock's Feathers, and
the four Gold Clocks in Lord _Tawdry's_ Stockings, suspend the Scales
in Equilibrio. I have found by Experiment, that the Learning of a Beau,
and the Wit of a Pedant are a just Counterpoise to each other. That the
Pride and Vanity of any Man are in exact Proportion to his Ignorance.
That a Grain of Good-nature will preponderate against an Ounce of Wit;
a Heart full of Virtue against a Head full of Learning; an a Thimble
full of Content against a Chest full of Gold.

_4 Gent._ This must be a very pretty Science, I fancy.

_Mast._ It would be endless to enumerate all the Experiments that might
be made in these Scales; but there is one which every Man ought to be
appriz'd of; and that is, that a Moderate Fortune, enjoy'd with
Content, Freedom, and Independency will turn the Scales against
whatever can be put in the other End.

_4 Gent._ Well, this is a Branch of Staticks, which I must own I had
but little Thoughts of entering into. However I begin to be persuaded,
that to know the true Specifick Gravity of this Kind of Subjects, is of
infinitely more Importance than that of any other Bodies in the
Universe.

_Mast._ It is indeed. And that you may not want Encouragement to
proceed in so useful a Study, I will let you have the Scales for Ten
Shillings. If you make a right Use of them, they will be worth more to
you than Ten Thousand Pounds.

_4 Gent._ I confess I am struck with the Beauty and Usefulness of this
Kind of moral Staticks, and believe I shall apply myself to make
Experiments with great Delight. There's your Money, Sir: You shall hear
shortly what Discoveries I make; in the mean Time, I am your humble
Servant.                                                     [_Exit._

_Mast._ Sir, I am yours.

          _Enter a second_ Old Man.

_2 Old Man._ Sir, I understand you deal in Curiosities. Have you any
Thing in your Shop, at present, that's pretty and curious?

_Mast._ Yes, Sir, I have a great many Things. But the most ancient
Curiosity I have got, is a small Brass Plate, on which is engrav'd the
Speech which _Adam_ made to his Wife, on their first Meeting, together
with her Answer. The Characters, thro' Age, are grown unintelligible;
but for that 'tis the more to be valued. What is remarkable in this
ancient Piece is, that _Eve_'s Speech is about three Times as long as
her Husband's. I have a Ram's Horn, one of those which help'd to blow
down the Walls of _Jericho._ A Lock of _Sampson_'s Hair, tied up in a
Shred of _Joseph_'s Garment. With several other _Jewish_ Antiquities,
which I purchas'd of that People at a very great Price. Then I have the
Tune which _Orpheus_ play'd to the Devil, when he charm'd back his
Wife.

_Gent._ That was thought to be a silly Tune, I believe, for no Body has
over car'd to learn it since.

_Mast._ Close cork'd up in a Thumb Phial, I have some Drops of Tears
which _Alexander_ wept, because he could do no more Mischief. I have a
Snuff-box made out of the Tub in which _Diogenes_ liv'd, and took Snuff
at all the World. I have the Net in which _Vulcan_ caught his Spouse
and her Gallant; but our modern Wives are now grown so exceeding
chaste, that there has not been an Opportunity of casting it these many
Years.

_Gent._ [_Aside to the Ladies._] Some would be so malicious now as
instead of chaste to think he meant cunning.

_Mast._ I have the Pitch Pipe of _Gracchus_, the _Roman_ Orator, who,
being apt, in Dispute, to raise his Voice too high, by touching a
certain soft Note in this Pipe, would regulate and keep it in a
moderate Key.

_2 La._ Such a Pipe as that, if it could be heard, would be very useful
in Coffee-houses, and other publick Places of Debate and modern
Disputation.

_Gent._ Yes, Madam, and, I believe, many a poor Husband would be glad
of such a Regulator of the Voice in his own private Family too.

_Mast._ There you was even with her, Sir. But the most valuable
Curiosity I have, is a certain hollow Tube, which I call a
_Distinguisher_; contriv'd with such Art, that, when rightly applied to
the Ear, it obstructs all Falshood, Nonsence, and Absurdity, from
striking upon the Tympanum: Nothing but Truth and Reason can make the
least Impression upon the Auditory Nerves. I have sate in a
Coffee-house sometimes, for the Space of Half an Hour, and amongst what
is generally call'd the best Company, without hearing a single word. At
a Dispute too, when I could perceive, by the eager Motions of both
Parties, that they made the greatest Noise, I have enjoy'd the most
profound Silence. It is a very useful Thing to have about one, either
at Church or Play-house, or _Westminster-hall_; at all which Places a
vast Variety both of useful and diverting Experiments may be made with
it. The only Inconvenience attending it is, that no Man can make
himself a compleat Master of it under Twenty Years close and diligent
Practice: And that Term of Time it best commenc'd at Ten or Twelve
Years old.

_Gent._ That indeed is an Inconvenience that will make it not every
Body's Money. But one would think those Parents who see the Beauty and
the Usefulness of Knowledge, Virtue, and a distinguishing Judgment,
should take particular Care to engage their Children early in the Use
and Practice of such a _Distinguisher_, whilst they have Time before
them, and no other Concerns to interrupt their Application.

_Mast._ Some few do. But the Generality are so entirely taken up with
the Care of little Master's Complexion, his Dress, his Dancing, and
such like Effeminacies, that they have not the least Regard for any
internal Accomplishments whatsoever. They are so far from teaching him
to subdue his Passions, that they make it their whole Business to
gratify them all.

_2 Old Man._ Well, Sir; to some People these may be thought curious
Things, perhaps, and a very valuable Collection. But, to confess the
Truth, these are not the Sort of curious Things I wanted. Have you no
little Box, representing a wounded Heart, on the Inside the Lid? Nor
pretty Ring, with an amorous Poesy? Nothing of that Sort, which is
pretty and not common, in your Shop?

_Mast._ O yes, Sir! I have a very pretty Snuff-box here, on the inside
of the Lid, do ye see, is a Man of threescore and ten acting the Lover,
and hunting like a Boy after Gewgaws and Trifles, to please a Girl
with.

_2 O. M._ Meaning me, Sir? Do ye banter me, Sir?

_Mast._ If you take it to your self, Sir, I can't help it.

_2 O. M._ And is a Person of my Years and Gravity to be laugh'd at,
then?

_Mast._ Why, really, Sir, Years and Gravity do make such Childishness
very ridiculous, I can't help owning. However, I am very sorry I have
none of those curious Trifles for your Diversion, but I have delicate
Hobby Horses and Rattles if you please.

_2 O. M._ By all the Charms of _Araminta_, I will revenge this affront.
                                                             [_Exit._

_Gent._ Ha, ha, ha! how contemptible is Rage in Impotence! But pray,
Sir, don't you think this kind of Freedom with your Customers
detrimental to your Trade?

_Mast._ No, no, Sir, the odd Character I have acquir'd by this rough
kind of Sincerity and plain Dealing; together with the whimsical Humour
of moralizing upon every Trifle I sell; are the Things, which by
raising Peoples Curiosity, furnish me with all my Customers: And it is
only Fools and Coxcombs I am so free with.

_La._ And in my Opinion, you are in the Right of it. Folly and
Impertinence ought always to be the Objects of Satire and Ridicule.

_Gent._ Nay, upon second Thoughts, I don't know but this odd turn of
Mind, which you have given your self, may not only be entertaining to
several of your Customers, but, perhaps, very much so to your self.

_Mast._ Vastly so, Sir. It very often helps me to Speculations
infinitely agreeable. I can sit behind this Counter, and fancy my
little Shop, and the Transactions of it, an agreeable Representation of
the grand Theater of the World. When I see a Fool come in here, and
throw away 50 or 100 Guineas for a Trifle that is not really worth a
Shilling, I am sometimes surpriz'd: But when I look out into the World,
and see Lordships and Manors barter'd away for gilt Coaches and
Equipage; an Estate for a Title; and an easy Freedom in Retirement for
a servile Attendance in a Crowd; when I see Health with great eagerness
exchang'd for Diseases, and Happiness for a Game at Hazard; my Wonder
ceases. Surely the World is a great Toy-shop, and all it's Inhabitants
run mad for Rattles. Nay, even the very wisest of us, however, we may
flatter our selves, have some Failing or Weakness, some Toy or Trifle,
that we are ridiculously fond of. Yet, so very partial are we to our
own dear selves, that we over-look those Miscarriages in our own
Conduct, which we loudly exclaim against in that of others; and, tho'
the same Fool's Turbant fits us all,

    _You say that I, I say that You are He,
    And each Man swears "The Cap's not made for me."_

_Gent._ Ha, ha! 'Tis very true, indeed. But I imagine you now begin to
think it Time to shut up Shop. Ladies, do ye want any Thing else?

_1 La._ No, I think not. If you please to put up that Looking-glass;
and the Perspective, I will pay you for them.

_Gent._ Well, Madam, how do you like this whimsical Humourist?

_1. La._ Why, really, in my Opinion, the Man's as great a Curiosity
himself, as any Thing he has got in his Shop.

_Gent._ He is so indeed. I think we have heard a great Deal of Folly
very justly ridicul'd.

    _In this gay thoughtless Age He'as found a Way,
    In trifling Things just Morals to convey.
    'Tis his at once to please and to reform,
    And give old Satire a new Pow'r to charm.
    And, would you guide your Lives and Actions right,
    Think on the Maxims you have heard to Night._


_FINIS._




THE KING AND THE MILLER OF MANSFIELD.

A DRAMATICK TALE.


By _R. DODSLEY_,

AUTHOR of the TOY-SHOP.

_LONDON:_

Printed for the AUTHOR, at _Tully's Head, Pall-Mall_; and Sold by T.
COOPER, at the _Globe_ in _Pater-Noster-Row_. M.DCC.XXXVII.




Dramatis Personæ.


  _MEN._

  The KING,                    Mr. _Cibber_.
  The MILLER,                  Mr. _Miller_.
  RICHARD the _Miller_'s Son,  Mr. _Berry_.
  Lord LUREWELL,               Mr. _Este_.
  COURTIERS and
  KEEPERS of the Forest.


  _WOMEN._

  PEGGY,                       Mrs. _Pritchard_.
  MARGERY,                     Mrs. _Bennet_.
  KATE,                        Mrs. _Cross_.


SCENE, _Sherwood Forest_.




THE KING AND THE MILLER.


SCENE, _Sherwood Forest._

          _Enter several_ COURTIERS _as lost._

_1 Courtier._ 'Tis horrid dark! and this Wood I believe has neither End
nor Side.

_4 C._ You mean to get out at, for we have found one in you see.

_2 C._ I wish our good King _Harry_ had kept nearer home to hunt; in my
Mind the pretty, tame Deer in _London_ make much better Sport than the
wild ones in _Sherwood Forest_.

_3 C._ I can't tell which Way his Majesty went, nor whether any-body is
with him or not, but let us keep together pray.

_4 C._ Ay, ay, like true Courtiers, take Care of ourselves whatever
becomes of Master.

_2 C._ Well, it's a terrible Thing to be lost in the Dark.

_4 C._ It is. And yet it's so common a Case, that one would not think
it should be at all so. Why we are all of us lost in the Dark every Day
of our Lives. Knaves keep us in the Dark by their Cunning, and Fools by
their Ignorance. Divines lose us in dark Mysteries; Lawyers in dark
Cases; and Statesmen in dark Intrigues: Nay, the Light of Reason, which
we so much boast of, what is it but a Dark-Lanthorn, which just serves
to prevent us from running our Nose against a Post, perhaps; but is no
more able to lead us out of the dark Mists of Error and Ignorance, in
which we are lost, than an _Ignis fatuus_ would be to conduct us out of
this Wood.

_1 C._ But, my Lord, this is no time for Preaching methinks. And for
all your Morals, Day-light would be much preferable to this Darkness I
believe.

_3 C._ Indeed wou'd it. But come, let us go on, we shall find some
House or other by and by.

_4 C._ Come along.                                         [_Exeunt._

          _Enter the_ KING _alone_.

No, no, this can be no publick Road that's certain: I am lost, quite
lost indeed. Of what Advantage is it now to be a King? Night shews me
no Respect: I cannot see better, nor walk so well as another Man. What
is a King? Is he not wiser than another Man? Not without his
Counsellors I plainly find. Is he not more powerful? I oft have been
told so, indeed, but what now can my Power command? Is he not greater
and more magnificent? When seated on his Throne, and surrounded with
Nobles and Flatterers, perhaps he may think so, but when lost in a
Wood, alas! what is he but a common Man? His Wisdom knows not which is
North and which is South; his Power a Beggar's Dog would bark at; and
his Greatness the Beggar would not bow to. And yet how oft are we
puff'd up with these false Attributes? Well, in losing the Monarch, I
have found the Man.

          [_The Report of a Gun is heard._

Hark! Some Villain sure is near! What were it best to do? Will my
Majesty protect me? No. Throw Majesty aside then, and let Manhood do
it.

          _Enter the_ MILLER.

_Mil._ I believe I hear the Rogue. Who's there?

_King._ No Rogue, I assure you.

_Mil._ Little better, Friend, I believe. Who fir'd that Gun?

_King._ Not I, indeed.

_Mil._ You lie, I believe.

_King._ Lie! lie! How strange it seems to me to be talk'd to in this
Stile. [_Aside._] Upon my Word I don't.

_Mil._ Come, come, Sirrah, confess; you have shot one of the King's
Deer, have not you?

_King._ No indeed, I owe the King more Respect. I heard a Gun go off,
indeed, and was afraid some Robbers might have been near.

_Mil._ I am not bound to believe this, Friend. Pray who are you? What's
your Name?

_King._ Name!

_Mil._ Name! yes Name. Why you have a Name, have not you? Where do you
come from? What is your Business here?

_King._ These are Questions I have not been us'd to, honest Man.

_Mil._ May be so; but they are Questions no honest Man would be afraid
to answer, I think: So if you can give no better Account of your self,
I shall make bold to take you along with me, if you please.

_King._ With you! What Authority have you to----

_Mil._ The King's Authority, if I must give you an Account, Sir. I am
_John Cockle_, the Miller of _Mansfield_, one of his Majesty's Keepers
in this Forest of _Sherwood_; and I will let no suspected Fellow pass
this Way that cannot give a better Account of himself than you have
done, I promise you.

_King._ I must submit to my own Authority. [_Aside._] Very well, Sir, I
am glad to hear the King has so good an Officer: And since I find you
have his Authority, I will give you a better Account of myself, if you
will do me the Favour to hear it.

_Mil._ It's more than you deserve, I believe; but let's hear what you
can say for yourself.

_King._ I have the Honour to belong to the King as well as you, and,
perhaps, should be as unwilling to see any Wrong done him. I came down
with him to hunt in this Forest, and the Chace leading us to Day a
great Way from Home, I am benighted in this Wood, and have lost my Way.

_Mil._ This does not sound well; if you have been a hunting, pray where
is your Horse?

_King._ I have tired my Horse so that he lay down under me, and I was
oblig'd to leave him.

_Mil._ If I thought I might believe this now.

_King._ I am not used to lie, honest Man.

_Mil._ What! do you live at Court, and not lie! that's a likely Story
indeed.

_King._ Be that as it will. I speak Truth now I assure you; and, to
convince you of it, if you will attend me to _Nottingham_, if I am near
it; or give me a Night's Lodging in your own House, here is something
to pay you for your Trouble, and if that is not sufficient, I will
satisfy you in the Morning to your utmost Desire.

_Mil._ Ay, now I am convinc'd you are a Courtier; here is a little
Bribe for to Day, and a large Promise for To-morrow, both in a Breath:
Here, take it again, and take this along with it----_John Cockle_ is no
Courtier, he can do what he ought----without a Bribe.

_King._ Thou art a very extraordinary Man I must own; and I should be
glad, methinks, to be further acquainted with thee.

_Mil._ Thee! and Thou! Prythee don't thee and thou me; I believe I am
as good a Man as yourself at least.

_King._ Sir, I beg your Pardon.

_Mil._ Nay, I am not angry, Friend, only I don't love to be too
familiar with any-body, before I know whether they deserve it or not.

_King._ You are in the Right. But what am I to do?

_Mil._ You may do what you please. You are twelve Miles from
_Nottingham_, and all the Way through this thick Wood; but if you are
resolv'd upon going thither to Night, I will put you in the Road, and
direct you the best I can; or if you will accept of such poor
Entertainment as a Miller can give, you shall be welcome to stay all
Night, and in the Morning I will go with you myself.

_King._ And cannot you go with me to Night?

_Mil._ I would not go with you to Night if you was the King.

_King._ Then I must go with you, I think.                  [_Exeunt._


_Scene changes to the Town of_ Mansfield.

          DICK _alone_.

Well, dear _Mansfield_, I am glad to see thy Face again. But my Heart
aches, methinks, for fear this should be only a Trick of theirs to get
me into their Power. Yet the Letter seems to be wrote with an Air of
Sincerity, I confess; and the Girl was never us'd to lie till she kept
a Lord Company. Let me see, I'll read it once more.

    _Dear_ Richard,

    _I am at last (tho' much too late for me) convinc'd of the Injury
    done to us both by that base Man, who made me think you false; he
    contriv'd these Letters, which I send you, to make me think you
    just upon the Point of being married to another, a Thought I could
    not bear with Patience, so aiming at Revenge on you, consented to
    my own Undoing. But for your own sake I beg you to return hither,
    for I have some Hopes of being able to do you Justice, which is the
    only Comfort of your most distrest but ever affectionate,_

    PEGGY.

There can be no Cheat in this sure! The Letters she has sent are, I
think, a Proof of her Sincerity. Well, I will go to her however: I
cannot think she will again betray me: If she has as much Tenderness
left for me, as, in spite of her Ill-usage, I still feel for her, I'm
sure she won't. Let me see, I am not far from the House, I believe.

                                                             [_Exit._


_Scene changes to a Room._

          PEGGY _and_ PHOEBE.

_Phoe._ Pray, Madam, make yourself easy.

_Peg._ Ah! _Phoebe_, she that has lost her Virtue, has with it lost her
Ease, and all her Happiness. Believing, cheated Fool! to think him
false.

_Phoe._ Be patient, Madam, I hope you will shortly be reveng'd on that
deceitful Lord.

_Peg._ I hope I shall, for that were just Revenge. But will Revenge
make me happy? Will it excuse my Falshood? Will it restore me to the
Heart of my much-injur'd Love? Ah! no. That blooming Innocence he us'd
to praise, and call the greatest Beauty of our Sex, is gone. I have no
Charm left that might renew that Flame I took such Pains to quench.

          [_Knocking at the Door._

See who's there. O Heavens 'tis he! Alas! that ever I should be asham'd
to see the Man I love!

          _Enter_ RICHARD, _who stands looking on her at a Distance,
          she weeping_.

_Dick._ Well, _Peggy_ (but I suppose you're Madam now in that fine
Dress) you see you have brought me back; is it to triumph in your
Falshood? or am I to receive the slighted Leavings of your fine Lord?

_Peg._ O _Richard_! after the Injury I have done you, I cannot look on
you without Confusion: But do not think so hardly of me; I stay'd not
to be slighted by him, for the Moment I discover'd his vile Plot on
you, I fled his Sight, nor could he e'er prevail to see me since.

_Dick._ Ah, _Peggy_! you were too hasty in believing, and much I fear,
the Vengeance aim'd at me, had other Charms to recommend it to you:
Such Bravery as that [_Pointing to her Cloaths_] I had not to bestow;
but if a tender, honest Heart could please, you had it all; and if I
wish'd for more, 'twas for your sake.

_Peg._ O _Richard_! when you consider the wicked Stratagem he contriv'd
to make me think you base and deceitful, I hope you will, at least,
pity my Folly, and, in some Measure, excuse my Falshood; that you will
forgive me, I dare not hope.

_Dick._ To be forc'd to fly from my Friends and Country, for a Crime
that I was innocent of, is an Injury that I cannot easily forgive to be
sure: But if you are less guilty of it than I thought, I shall be very
glad; and if your Design be really as you say, to clear me, and to
expose the Baseness of him that betray'd and ruin'd you, I will join
with you with all my Heart. But how do you propose to do this?

_Peg._ The King is now in this Forest a hunting, and our young Lord is
every Day with him: Now, I think, if we could take some Opportunity of
throwing ourselves at his Majesty's Feet, and complaining of the
Injustice of one of his Courtiers, it might, perhaps, have some Effect
upon him.

_Dick._ If we were suffer'd to make him sensible of it, perhaps it
might; but the Complaints of such little Folks as we seldom reach the
Ears of Majesty.

_Peg._ We can but try.

_Dick._ Well, If you will go with me to my Father's, and stay there
till such an Opportunity happens, I shall believe you in earnest, and
will join with you in your Design.

_Peg._ I will do any thing to convince you of my Sincerity, and to make
Satisfaction for the Injuries which have been done you.

_Dick._ Will you go now?

_Peg._ I will be with you in less than an Hour.            [_Exeunt._


_Scene changes to the Mill._

          MARGERY _and_ KATE _Knitting_.

_Kate._ O dear, I would not see a Spirit for all the World; but I love
dearly to hear Stories of them. Well, and what then?

_Mar._ And so, at last, in a dismal, hollow Tone it cry'd----

          [_A Knocking at the Door frights them both; they scream out,
          and throw down their Knitting._

_Mar._ and } Lord bless us! What's that?
_Kate._    }

_Kate._ O dear, Mother, it's some Judgment upon us I'm afraid. They
say, talk of the Devil and he'll appear.

_Mar._ _Kate_, go and see who's at the Door.

_Kate._ I durst 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?

_Kate._ O Gemini! it's like our _Dick_, I think: He's certainly dead,
and it's his Spirit.

_Mar._ Heaven forbid! I think in my Heart it's he himself. 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 ye do? I thought you would not have let me
in.

_Mar._ Dear Child, I'm over-joy'd to see thee; but I was so 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 see who 'tis.

_Dick._ What, they love Venison at _Mansfield_ as well as ever, I
suppose?

_Kate._ Ay, and they will have it too.

_Miller 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 Stranger, _Madge_; thou must give him a
Supper, and a Lodging if thou can'st.

_Mar._ You have got a better Stranger 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 over-joy'd to see my Boy.
He has been at _London_, and I have not seen him these four Yerrs.

_King._ Well, I shall once in my Life have the Happiness of being
treated as a common Man; and of seeing human Nature without Disguise.
[_Aside._]

_Mil._ What has brought thee Home so unexpected?

_Dick._ You will know that presently.

_Mil._ Of that by-and-by then. We have got the King down in the Forest
a hunting this Season, and this honest Gentleman, who came down with
his Majesty from _London_, has been with 'em to Day it seems, and has
lost his Way. Come, _Madge_, see what thou can'st get for Supper. 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 honest
Fellows that know how to drink it.

_King._ Good Ale will be acceptable at present, for I am very dry. But
pray, how came your Son 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 desire 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 Service to
you.

_King._ Thank ye, Sir. This plain Sincerity and Freedom, is a Happiness
unknown to Kings. [_Aside._]

_Mil._ Come, Sir.

_King._ _Richard_, my Service to you.

_Dick._ Thank you, Sir.

_Mil._ Well, _Dick_, and how do'st thou like _London_? Come, tell us
what thou hast seen.

_Dick._ Seen! I have seen the Land of Promise.

_Mil._ The Land of Promise! What dost thou mean?

_Dick._ The Court, Father.

_Mil._ Thou wilt never leave joking.

_Dick._ To be serious then, I have seen the Disappointment of all my
Hopes and Expectations; and that's more than one would wish to see.

_Mil._ What, would the great Man thou wast recommended to, do nothing
at all for thee at last?

_Dick._ Why, yes; he would promise me to the last.

_Mil._ Zoons! do the Courtiers think their Dependants 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 several Years,
tantaliz'd with Hopes and Expectations; this Year promised one Place,
the next another, and the third, in sure and certain Hope of----a
Disappointment. One falls, and it was promis'd before; another, and I
am just Half an Hour too late; a third, and it stops the Mouth of a
Creditor; a fourth, and it pays the Hire of a Flatterer; a fifth, and
it bribes a Vote; and the sixth, I am promis'd still. But having thus
slept away some Years, I awoke from my Dream: My Lord, I found, was so
far from having it in his Power to get a Place for me, that he had been
all this while seeking after one for himself.

_Mil._ Poor _Dick_! And is plain Honesty 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 say Ay, or No; to
run, or stand; to fetch, or carry, or leap over a Stick at the Word of
Command. You must be Master of the Arts of Flattery, Insinuation,
Dissimulation, Application, and [_Pointing to his Palm_] right
Application too, if you hope to succeed.

_King._ You don't consider 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 it's
disagreable 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, so let that pass. Here's
better Success to you the next Time you come to _London_.

_Dick._ I thank ye; but I don't design to see it again in haste.

_Mil._ No, no, _Dick_; instead of depending upon Lords Promises, depend
upon the Labour of thine own Hands; expect nothing but what thou can'st
earn, and then thou wilt not be disappointed. But come, I want a
Description of _London_; thou hast told us nothing thou hast seen yet.

_Dick._ O! 'tis a fine Place! I have seen large Houses with small
Hospitality; great Men do little Actions; and fine Ladies do----nothing
at all. I have seen the honest Lawyers of _Westminster-Hall_, and the
virtuous Inhabitants of _'Change-Alley_. The politick Mad-men of
Coffee-Houses, and the wise Statesmen of _Bedlam_. I have seen merry
Tragedies, and sad Comedies; Devotion at an Opera, and Mirth at a
Sermon; I have seen fine Cloaths at _St. James_'s, and long Bills at
_Ludgate-Hill_. I have seen poor Grandeur, and rich Poverty; high
Honours, and low Flattery, great Pride, and no Merit. In short, I have
seen a Fool with a Title, a Knave with a Pension, and an honest Man
with a Thread-bare Coat. Pray how do you like _London_?

_Mil._ And is this the best Description thou can'st give of it?

_Dick._ Yes.

_King._ Why, _Richard_, you are a Satirist, I find.

_Dick._ I love to speak Truth, Sir; if that happens to be Satire, I
can't help it.

_Mil._ Well, if this is _London_, give me my Country Cottage; which,
tho' it is not a great House, nor a fine House, is my own House, and I
can shew a Receipt for the Building on't.

_King._ I wish all the great Builders in the Kingdom could say as much.

_Mil._ Come, Sir, our Supper, I believe, is ready for us, by this time;
and to such as I have, you're as welcome as a Prince.

_King._ I thank you.                                       [_Exeunt._


_Scene changes to the Wood._

          _Enter several_ KEEPERS.

_1 K._ The Report of the Gun was somewhere this Way I'm sure.

_2 K._ Yes, but I can never believe that any-body would come a Deer
stealing so dark a Night as this.

_3 K._ Where did the Deer harbour to Day?

_4 K._ There was a Herd lay upon _Hamilton-Hill_, another just by
_Robin Hood's Chair_, and a third here in _Mansfield Wood_.

_1 K._ Ay, those they have been amongst.

_2 K._ But we shall never be able to find 'em to Night, 'tis so dark.

_3 K._ No, no; let's go back again.

_1 K._ Zoons! you're afraid of a broken Head, I suppose, if we should
find 'em; and so had rather slink back again. Hark! Stand close. I hear
'em coming this Way.

          _Enter the_ COURTIERS.

_1 C._ Did not you hear some-body just now? Faith I begin to be afraid
we shall meet with some Misfortune to Night.

_2 C._ Why, if any-body should take what we have got, we have made a
fine Business of it.

_3 C._ Let 'em take it if they will; I am so tir'd I shall make but
small Resistance.

_The Keepers rush upon them._

_2 K._ Ay, Rogues, Rascals, and Villains, you have got it, have you?

_2 C._ Indeed we have got but very little, but what we have you're
welcome to, if you will but use us civilly.

_1 K._ O, yes! very civilly; you deserve to be us'd civilly, to be
sure.

_4 C._ Why, what have we done that we may not be civilly us'd?

_1 K._ Come, come, don't trifle, surrender.

_1 C._ I have but three Half-Crowns about me.

_2 C._ Here is Three and Six-pence for you, Gentlemen.

_3 C._ Here's my Watch; I have no Money at all.

_4 C._ Indeed I have nothing in my Pocket but a Snuff-box.

_4 K._ What, the Dogs want to bribe us, do they? No, Rascals; you shall
go before the Justice To-morrow, depend on't.

_4 C._ Before the Justice! What, for being robb'd?

_1 K._ For being robb'd! What do you mean? Who has robb'd you?

_4 C._ Why, did not you just now demand our Money, Gentlemen?

_2 K._ O, the Rascals! They will swear a Robbery against us, I warrant.

_4 C._ A Robbery! Ay, to be sure.

_1 K._ No, no; We did not demand your Money, we demanded the Deer you
have kill'd.

_4 C._ The Devil take the Deer, I say; he led us a Chace of six Hours,
and got away from us at last.

_1 K._ Zoons! ye Dogs, do ye think to banter us? I tell ye you have
this Night shot one of the King's Deer; did not we hear the Gun go off?
Did not we hear you say, you was afraid it should be taken from you?

_2 C._ We were afraid our Money should be taken from us.

_1 K._ Come, come, no more shuffling: I tell ye, you're all Rogues, and
we'll have you hanged, you may depend on't. Come, let's take 'em to old
_Cockle_'s, we're not far off, we'll keep 'em there all Night, and
To-morrow-morning we'll away with 'em before the Justice.

_4 C._ A very pretty Adventure.                            [_Exeunt._


_Scene changes to the Mill._

          KING, MILLER, MARGERY, _and_ DICK, _at Supper_.

_Mil._ Come, Sir, you must mend a bad Supper with a Glass of good Ale:
Here's King _Harry_'s Health.

_King._ With all my Heart. Come, _Richard_, here's King _Harry_'s
Health; I hope you are Courtier enough to pledge me, are not you?

_Dick._ Yes, yes, Sir, I'll drink the King's Health with all my Heart.

_Mar._ Come, Sir, my humble Service to you, and much good may do ye
with your poor Supper; I wish it had been better.

_King._ You need make no Apologies.

_Marg._ We are oblig'd to your Goodness in excusing our Rudeness.

_Mil._ Prithee, _Margery_, don't trouble the Gentleman with
Compliments.

_Mar._ Lord, Husband, if one had no more Manners than you, the
Gentleman would take us all for Hogs.

_Dick._ Now I think the more Compliments the less Manners.

_King._ I think so too. Compliments in Discourse, I believe, are like
Ceremonies in Religion; the one has destroy'd all true Piety, and the
other all Sincerity and Plain-dealing.

_Mil._ Then a Fig for all Ceremony and Compliments too: Give us thy
Hand; and let us drink and be merry.

_King._ Right, honest Miller, let us drink and be merry. Come, have you
got e'er a good Song?

_Mil._ Ah! my singing Days are over, but my Man _Joe_ has got an
excellent one; and if you have a Mind to hear it, I'll call him in.

_King._ With all my Heart.

_Mil._ _Joe!_

          _Enter_ JOE.

_Mil._ Come, _Joe_, drink Boy; I have promised this Gentleman that you
shall sing him your last new Song.

_Joe._ Well, Master, if you have promis'd it him, he shall have it.


    SONG.


    I.

    _How happy a State does the Miller possess?
      Who wou'd be no greater, nor fears to be less;
    On his Mill and himself he depends for Support,
      Which is better than servilely cringing at Court._


    II.

    _What tho' he all dusty and whiten'd does go,
      The more he's be-powder'd, the more like a Beau;
    A Clown in this Dress may be honester far
      Than a Courtier who struts in his Garter and Star._


    III.

    _Tho' his Hands are so dawb'd they're not fit to be seen,
      The Hands of his Betters are not very clean;
    A Palm more polite may as dirtily deal;
      Gold, in handling, will stick to the Fingers like Meal._


    IV.

    _What if, when a Pudding for Dinner he lacks,
      He cribs, without Scruple, from other Men's Sacks;
    In this of right noble Examples he brags,
      Who borrow as freely from other Men's Bags._


    V.

    _Or should he endeavour to heap an Estate,
      In this he wou'd mimick the Tools of the State;
    Whose Aim is alone their Coffers to fill,
      As all his Concern's to bring Grist to his Mill._


    VI.

    _He eats when he's hungry, he drinks when he's dry,
      And down when he's weary contented does lie;
    Then rises up chearful to work and to sing:
      If so happy a Miller, then who'd be a King._


_Mil._ There's a Song for you.

_King._ He should go sing this at Court, I think.

_Dick._ I believe, if he's wise, he'll chuse to stay at home tho'.

          _Enter_ PEGGY.

_Mil._ What Wind blew you hither pray? You have a good Share of
Impudence, or you would be asham'd to set your Foot within my House,
methinks.

_Peg._ Asham'd I am, indeed, but do not call me impudent.   [_Weeps._

_Dick._ Dear Father, suspend your Anger for the present; that she is
here now is by my Direction, and to do me Justice.

_Peg._ To do that is all that is now in my Power; for as to myself, I
am ruin'd past Redemption: My Character, my Virtue, my Peace, are gone:
I am abandon'd by my Friends, despis'd by the World, and expos'd to
Misery and Want.

_King._ Pray let me know the Story of your Misfortunes; perhaps it may
be in my Power to do something towards redressing them.

_Peg._ That you may learn from him that I have wrong'd; but as for me,
Shame will not let me speak, or hear it told.                [_Exit._

_King._ She's very pretty.

_Dick._ O Sir, I once thought her an Angel; I lov'd her dearer than my
Life, and did believe her Passion was the same for me: But a young
Nobleman of this Neighbourhood happening to see her, her Youth and
blooming Beauty presently struck his Fancy; a thousand Artifices were
immediately employ'd to debauch and ruin her. But all his Arts were
vain; not even the Promise of making her his Wife, could prevail upon
her: In a little Time he found out her Love to me, and imagining this
to be the Cause of her Refusal, he, by forg'd Letters, and feign'd
Stories, contriv'd to make her believe I was just upon the Point of
Marriage with another Woman. Possess'd with this Opinion, she, in a
Rage, writes me Word, never to see her more; and, in Revenge, consented
to her own Undoing. Not contented with this, nor easy while I was so
near her, he brib'd one of his cast-off Mistresses to swear a Child to
me, which she did: This was the Occasion of my leaving my Friends, and
flying to _London_.

_King._ And how does she propose to do you Justice?

_Dick._ Why, the King being now in this Forest a hunting, we design to
take some Opportunity of throwing ourselves at his Majesty's Feet, and
complaining of the Injustice done us by this Noble Villain.

_Mil._ Ah, _Dick_! I expect but little Redress from such an
Application. Things of this Nature are so common amongst the Great,
that I am afraid it will only be made a Jest of.

_King._ Those that can make a Jest of what ought to be shocking to
Humanity, surely deserve not the Name of Great or Noble Men.

_Dick._ What do you think of it, Sir? If you belong to the Court, you,
perhaps, may know something of the King's Temper.

_King._ Why, if I can judge of his Temper at all, I think he would not
suffer the greatest Nobleman in his Court, to do an Injustice to the
meanest Subject in his Kingdom. But pray who is the Nobleman that is
capable of such Actions as these?

_Dick._ Do you know my Lord _Lurewell_?

_King._ Yes.

_Dick._ That's the Man.

_King._ Well, I would have you put your Design in Execution. 'Tis my
Opinion the King will not only hear your Complaint, but redress your
Injuries.

_Mil._ I wish it may prove so.

          _Enter the_ KEEPERS, _leading in the_ COURTIERS.

_1 K._ Hola! _Cockle!_ Where are ye? Why, Man, we have nabb'd a Pack of
Rogues here just in the Fact.

_King._ Ha, ha, ha! What, turn'd Highwaymen, my Lords? or
Deer-stealers?

_1 C._ I am very glad to find your Majesty in Health and Safety.

_2 C._ We have run thro' a great many Perils and Dangers to Night, but
the Joy of finding your Majesty so unexpectedly, will make us forget
all we have suffer'd.

_Mil._ and } What! is this the King?
_Dick._    }

_King._ I am very glad to see you, my Lords, I confess; and
particularly you, my Lord _Lurewell_.

_Lure._ Your Majesty does me Honour.

_King._ Yes, my Lord, and I will do you Justice too; your Honour has
been highly wrong'd by this young Man.

_Lure._ Wrong'd, my Liege!

_King._ I hope so, my Lord; for I wou'd fain believe you can't be
guilty of Baseness and Treachery.

_Lure._ I hope your Majesty will never find me so. What dares this
Villain say?

_Dick._ I am not to be frighted, my Lord. I dare speak Truth at any
Time.

_Lure._ Whatever stains my Honour must be false.

_King._ I know it must, my Lord; yet has this Man, not knowing who I
was, presum'd to charge your Lordship, not only with great Injustice to
himself; but also with ruining an innocent Virgin whom he lov'd, and
who was to have been his Wife; which, if true, were base and
treacherous; but I know 'tis false, and therefore leave it to your
Lordship to say what Punishment I shall inflict upon him, for the
Injury done to your Honour.

_Lure._ I thank your Majesty. I will not be severe; he shall only ask
my Pardon, and To-morrow Morning be oblig'd to marry the Creature he
has traduc'd me with.

_King._ This is mild. Well, you hear your Sentence.

_Dick._ May I not have Leave to speak before your Majesty?

_King._ What can'st thou say?

_Dick._ If I had your Majesty's Permission, I believe I have certain
Witnesses, which will undeniably prove the Truth of all I have accus'd
his Lordship of.

_King._ Produce them.

_Dick._ _Peggy!_

          _Enter_ PEGGY.

_King._ Do you know this Woman, my Lord?

_Lure._ I know her, please your Majesty, by Sight, she is a Tenant's
Daughter.

_Peg_. [_Aside._] Majesty! What, is this the King?

_Dick._ Yes.

_King._ Have you no particular Acquaintance with her?

_Lure._ Hum----I have not seen her these several Months.

_Dick._ True, my Lord; and that is part of your Accusation; for, I
believe, I have some Letters which will prove your Lordship once had a
more particular Acquaintance with her. Here is one of the first his
Lordship wrote to her, full of the tenderest and most solemn
Protestations of Love and Constancy; here is another which will inform
your Majesty of the Pains he took to ruin her; there is an absolute
Promise of Marriage before he could accomplish it.

_King._ What say you, my Lord, are these your Hand?

_Lure._ I believe, please your Majesty, I might have had a little
Affair of Gallantry with the Girl some Time ago.

_King._ It was a _little_ Affair, my Lord; a _mean_ Affair; and what
you call Gallantry, I call Infamy. Do you think, my Lord, that
Greatness gives a Sanction to Wickedness? Or that it is the Prerogative
of Lords to be unjust and inhumane? You remember the Sentence which
yourself pronounc'd upon this innocent Man; you cannot think it hard
that it should pass on you who are guilty.

_Lure._ I hope your Majesty will consider my Rank, and not oblige me to
marry her.

_King._ Your Rank! my Lord. Greatness that stoops to Actions base and
low, deserts its Rank, and pulls its Honours down. What makes your
Lordship Great? Is it your gilded Equipage and Dress? Then put it on
your meanest Slave, and he's as great as you. Is it your Riches or
Estate? The Villian that should plunder you of all, would then be great
as you. No, my Lord, he that acts greatly, is the true Great Man. I
therefore think you ought, in Justice, to marry her you thus have
wrong'd.

_Peg._ Let my Tears thank your Majesty. But, alas! I am afraid to marry
this young Lord; that would only give him Power to use me worse, and
still encrease my Misery: I therefore beg your Majesty will not command
him to do it.

_King._ Rise then, and hear me. My Lord, you see how low the greatest
Nobleman may be reduced by ungenerous Actions. Here is, under your own
Hand, an absolute Promise of Marriage to this young Woman, which, from
a thorough Knowledge of your Unworthiness, she has prudently refus'd to
make you fulfil. I shall therefore not insist upon it; but I command
you, upon Pain of my Displeasure, immediately to settle on her Five
hundred Pounds a Year.

_Peg._ May Heaven reward your Majesty's Goodness. 'Tis too much for me,
but if your Majesty thinks fit, let it be settled upon this
much-injured Man, to make some Satisfaction for the Wrongs which have
been done him. As to myself, I only sought to clear the Innocence of
him I lov'd and wrong'd, then hide me from the World, and die forgiven.

_Dick._ This Act of generous Virtue cancels all past Failings; come to
my Arms, and be as dear as ever.

_Peg._ You cannot sure forgive me!

_Dick._ I can, I do, and still will make you mine.

_Peg._ O! why did I ever wrong such generous Love!

_Dick._ Talk no more of it. Here let us kneel, and thank the Goodness
which has made us blest.

_King._ May you be happy.

_Mil._ [_Kneels._] After I have seen so much of your Majesty's
Goodness, I cannot despair of Pardon, even for the rough Usage your
Majesty receiv'd from me.

          [_The King draws his Sword, the Miller is frighted, and rises
          up, thinking he was going to kill him._

What have I done that I should lose my Life?

_King._ Kneel without Fear. No, my good Host, so far are you from
having any thing to pardon, that I am much your Debtor. I cannot think
but so good and honest a Man will make a worthy and honourable Knight,
so rise up, Sir _John Cockle_: And, to support your State, and in some
sort requite the Pleasure you have done us, a Thousand Marks a Year
shall be your Revenue.

_Mil._ Your Majesty's Bounty I receive with Thankfulness; I have been
guilty of no Meanness to obtain it, and hope I shall not be obliged to
keep it upon base Conditions; for tho' I am willing to be a faithful
Subject, I am resolv'd to be a free and an honest Man.

_King._ I rely upon your being so: And to gain the Friendship of such a
one, I shall always think an Addition to my Happiness, tho' a King.

    Worth, in whatever State, is sure a Prize
    Which Kings, of all Men, ought not to despise;
    By selfish Sycophants so close besieg'd,
    'Tis by meer Chance a worthy Man's oblig'd:
    But hence, to every Courtier be it known,
    Virtue shall find Protection from the Throne.


_FINIS._






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