Canute. O, mighty ocean! thou art my subject: my courtiers tell me so; and it is thy bounden duty to obey me. Thus, then, I stretch my sceptre over thee, and command thee to retire. Roll back thy swelling waves, nor let them presume to wet the feet of me, thy royal master.
Oswald (aside). I believe the sea will pay very little regard to his royal commands.
Offa. See how fast the tide rises!
Oswald. The next wave will come up to the chair. It is folly to stay; we shall be covered with salt water.
Canute. Well, does the sea obey my commands? If it be my subject, it is a very rebellious subject. See how it swells and dashes the angry foam and salt spray over my sacred person. Vile sycophants! did you think I was the dupe of your base lies? that I believed your abject flatteries? Know, there is only one Being whom the sea will obey. He is sovereign of heaven and earth, King of kings, and Lord of lords. It is only he who can say to the ocean—“Thus far shalt thou go, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” A king is but a man; and a man is but a worm. Shall a worm assume the power of the great God, and think the elements will obey him? Take away this crown, I will never wear it more. May kings learn to be humble from my example, and courtiers learn truth from your disgrace.
DIALOGUE, ON THINGS TO BE LEARNED,
BETWEEN MAMMA AND KITTY.
Kitty. Pray, mamma, may I leave off working? I am tired.
Mamma. You have done very little, my dear; you know you were to finish all that hem.
K. But I had rather write now, mamma, or read, or get my French grammar.
M. I know very well what that means, Kitty; you had rather do anything than what I set you about.