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

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 Theatre of the World. When I see a Fool come in here, and throw away Fifty or an Hundred Guineas for a Trifle that is not really worth a Shilling, I am 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 Eagerness exchanged for Diseases, and Happiness for a Game at Hazard, my Wonder ceases. Surely the World is a great Toy-Shop, and its inhabitants run mad for Rattles. Nay, even the very wisest of us, however we may flatter ourselves, may have some Failing or Weakness, some Toy or Trifle, that we are ridiculously fond of. Yet, so very partial are we to ourselves, that we are apt to overlook those Miscarriages in our own Conduct, which we loudly exclaim against in that of others; and, even if the same Fool's Turban fit us all; You say that I, I say that you are He,

And each Man says, The Cap's not made for me."

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

Lady. 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?

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

In this gay, thoughtless Age, he's 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 Power to charm.
And, would you guide your Lives and Actions right,
Think on the Maxims you have heard To-night.

THE END.

EPILOGUE.

WELL, there's an end, this our stage-sermon's done;
(For sure our Author might have call'd it one.)
I wonder where's the man 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 still so much concern'd with Songs and Tunes,
The next wise Age will all be—Fidlers' Sons.
And did he think plain Truth would 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,- -Sir, '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 bend, and thus for Pardon plead:

"Ye 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.”

THE

KING

AND THE

MILLER OF MANSFIELD.

A DRAMATIC TALE.

FIRST ACTED AT THE

THEATRE-ROYAL in DRURY-LANE,

IN THE YEAR 1737.

WRITTEN BY

ROBERT DODSLEY.