Fopdoodle.
If I saw the treasury running low, I’d rise and thus address the throne of majesty: Of late, most able king, thy servant, Lord Fopdoodle, whom thou hast ennobled, hath observed sundry of his former friends, shopkeepers, swelling with wealth and aping his nobility. I’ll strip them of their towering ambition by taking off the goods from their top shelves. And then the king would say, Good my lord, thou art aright; go thou and do it. And I would go and do it.
Jack.
Would you have any whims?
Fopdoodle.
Wouldn’t I have whims!—Tom, my man, stand firm.—Thousands of them. If a king and his lords can’t have their whims, they’re not so good as other people are. Some day, when the king was in a right good humor, I would say: Your valiant Majesty, an ape doth offend me much. I have a whim. I crave a boon, my liege, a boon, my sovereign; and he would say, I’ll grant it thee. Then I would say, I thank thee, good my sovereign. I would that all the apes in thy kingdom were destroyed. And he would say, Take this my signet ring, and let them perish.
Jack.
And you would kill poor Jack?
Fopdoodle.
Are you Jack? Mr. Northlake’s own son Jack, and cousin to beautiful Miss Violet? Why, Jack, I could love even an ape if he were cousin to the beautiful Miss Violet.