_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.