Dor.. Ah, the Inconstancy of this World! Out of sight, out f Mind. Your little Monkey is scarce cold in his Grave, and you have already forgot what you us'd so much to admire: Do but call him to remembrance, Sir, in his red Coat, new Gloves, little Hat, and clean Linen; then discharge your Conscience, utter the Truth from your Heart, and tell us whether he was not the prettier Gentleman of the two—By my Virginity, Sir, (tho' that's but a slippery Oath, you'll say) had they made love to me together, Esop should have worn the Willow.
Lear. Since nothing but an Animal will please thee, 'tis pity my Monkey had not that Virginity thou hast sworn by. But I, whom Wisdom charms even in the homeliest Dress, can never think the much-deserving Esop unworthy of my Daughter.
Dor. Now, in the Name of Wonder, what is't you so admire in him?
Lear. Hark, and thou shalt know; but you, Euphronia,
Be you more especially attentive.
'Tis true he's plain; but that's, my Girl, a Trifle.
All manly Beauty's seated in the Soul;
And that of Esop, Envy's self must own,
Outshines whate'er the World has yet produc'd.
Crœsus, the prosperous Favourite of Heaven;
Crœsus, the happiest Potentate on Earth;
Whose Treasure (tho' immense) is the least Part
Of what he holds from Providence's Care,
Leans on his Shoulder as his grand Support,
Admires his Wisdom, doats upon his Truth,
And makes him Pilot to Imperial Sway.
But in this elevated Post of Power,
What's his Employ? Where does he point his Thoughts?
To live in Splendour, Luxury, and Ease,
Do endless Mischiefs, by neglecting Good,
And build his Family on other's Ruins?
No:
He serves the Prince, and serves the People too;
Is useful to the Rich, and helps the Poor;
There's nothing stands neglected, but himself.
With constant Pain, and yet with constant Joy,
From Place to Place throughout the Realm he goes,
With useful Lessons, form'd to every Rank:
The People learn Obedience from his Tongue,
The Magistrate is guided in Command,
The Prince is minded of a Father's Care,
The Subjects taught the Duty of a Child.
And as 'tis dangerous to be bold with Truth,
He often calls for Fable to his Aid,
Where, under abject Names of Beasts and Birds,
Virtue shines out, and Vice is cloath'd in Shame.
And thus, by inoffensive Wisdom's Force,
He conquers Folly wheresoe'er he moves:
This is his Portrait.
Dor. A very good Picture of a very ill Face!
Lear. Well, Daughter; what, not a Word? Is it possible any thing that I am Father of can be untouch'd with so much Merit?
Euph. My Duty may make all things possible: But Esop is so ugly, Sir—
Lear. His Soul has so much Beauty in't, your Reason ought to blind your Eyes: Besides, my Interest is concern'd; his Power alarms me. I know throughout the Kingdom he's the Scourge of evil Magistrates, turns out Governors when they turn Tyrants; breaks Officers for false Musters; excludes Judges from giving Sentence, when they have been absent during the Trial; hangs Lawyers when they take Fees on both Sides; forbids Physicians to take Money of those they don't cure. 'Tis true, my Innocence ought to banish my Fears: But my Government, Child, is too delicious a Morsel, not to set many a frail Mouth a-watering. Who knows what Accusations Envy may produce? But all wou'd be secure, if thou could'st touch the Heart of Esop. Let me blow up thy Ambition, Girl; the Fire of that will make thy Eyes sparkle at him. [She sighs.]——What's that Sigh for, now? Ha! A young Husband, by my Conscience: Ah Daughter, hadst thou a young Husband, he'd make thee sigh indeed. I'll tell thee what he's compos'd of. He has a Wig full of Pulvilio, a Pocket full of Dice, a Heart full of Treason, a Mouth full of Lyes, a Belly full of Drink, a Carcase full of Plaisters, a Tail full of Pox, and a Head full of——nothing. There's his Picture: wear it at thy Heart, if thou can'st but here comes one of greater Worth.
Enter Esop.