KING CHARLES.-Large drab beaver hat, white plumes, point lace collar and cuffs, black circular cloak, lined with white satin, and turned back with gold trimming. A star on cloak. Green doublet, slashed with white satin from top to the bottom of sleeves, and richly embroidered with gold. Sword. Sword-belt very broad, and richly embroidered. Sash of amber coloured silk, with bows round the waist and sleeves. Deep buff full breeches, richly embroidered, with point lace at the knees. Yellow boots. Sailor's dress-Blue very full tunic, to draw round the waist; full blue breeches, blue stockings, striped shirt, coarse baize cap, russet shoes.

ROCHESTER.-Two dresses of the same fashion the king's, only the embroidered dress is a plum colour. (No cloak.) White satin sash, and white bows. White shoes.

EDWARD.-Scarlet doublet, white full breeches trimmed with gold button-holes and tassels, white puffs, white silk sash and gold fringe, white shoes. Second dress - Puce brown, trimmed with amber silk, same shape as the first, but plain.

CAPTAIN COPP.-Large drab beaver hat, striped shirt; scarlet tunic, very full, drawn round the waist with black cord and black bows. Large blue breeches, trimmed with yellow, and large gilt ball buttons. A cloak to match, with a few buttons, no other trimming. TWO WAITERS in plain doublets.

BEEF-EATERS.

LADY CLARA.-Very rich pink satin dress, with full sleeves, trimmed with pearl beads.

MARY.-Black velvet body, blue silk skirt, trimmed with point lace, point lace apron.

It may appear strange to see the sailors and other characters in this piece with bows of ribbon round the waist, but it is correct. At that time they made holes through the doublet, in which were drawn ribbons or strings sewed to the breeches to keep them up.

Cast of the Characters at the Theatre Royal,
Covent Garden.

King Charles II..
Rochester

Edward (a page)
Captain Copp

...

Mr. C. Kemble.
Mr. Jones

Mr. Duruset.

Mr. Fawcett.

Two pages.

Servants.

Lady Clara

Mrs. Faucit.

Mary (adopted daughter of Copp) Miss M. Tree.

The Conductors of this Work print no Plays but those which they have seen acted. The Stage Directions are given from their own personal observations, during the most recent performances.

The instant a Character appears upon the Stage, the point of Entrance, as well as every subsequent change of Position, till its Erit, is noted, with a fidelity which may, in all cases, be relied on; the object being, to establish this Work as a Standard Guide to the Stage business, as now conducted on the London boards.

EXITS and ENTRANCES.

R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door; S. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Door. RELATIVE POSITIONS.

R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Right of Centre; L. C. Left of Centre. The following view of the Stage with Five Performers in front, will, it is presumed, fully demonstrate the Relative Positions.

The Reader is supposed to be on the Stage facing the Audience.

Charles the Second.

ACT I.

SCENE 1. The Royal Palace.

Enter ROCHESTER and LADY CLARA, R.

Lady C. Yes, my lord, her majesty will have it, that you are the chief cause of the king's irregularities. Roch. Oh, I'll warrant it; and of his not loving her. too-is it not so?

Lady C. I did not say that; but, in truth, my Lord, your continual jests on the married state

Roch. Heaven bless it!

Lady C. Your continual ridicule of married menRoch. Heaven help them!

Lady C. Your licentious example, and still more licentious poetry

Roch. What's coming next?

Lady C. All these, I say, make you the most dangerous of men.

Roch. Dangerous! My dear Lady Clara, you make me vain.

Lady C. It is well known that you are the king's prime companion in all his excesses.

Roch. What, is my loyalty to be made my reproach? Must I not stand by my monarch in all his moods? Would you have me weep when my sovereign laughs? Would you have me whine when my sovereign calls for a jolly song? No, no, my lady, that might have done in the days of the Roundheads; but times are altered. We have a merry monarch to reign over usA merry monarch makes a merry court-so God save the jovial king, and send him boon companions.

Lady C. [Laughing.] I see it is in vain to reason with you.

Roch. Then give over the attempt. Let us talk of

something of a nearer and a dearer interest-of your merits and my most ardent flame.

Lady C. Ah me! I fear, like many other of your flames, it will but end in smoke. You talk of being desperately in love, what proof have you ever given?

Roch. What proof? Am I not ready to give the greatest proof that man can offer-to lay down this sweet bachelor life, and commit matrimony for your sake?

Lady C. Well, this last, I must say, coming from a Rochester, is a most convincing proof. I have heard you out, listen now to me. [ROCHESTER bows.] If, by your ascendancy overshe king, you can disgust him with these nocturnal rambles, and bring him back to reason

Roch. Your ladyship forgets one of my talents.
Lady C. Which is it?

Roch. That of getting myself banished two or three' times a year.

Lady C. And if the woman you profess to love should offer to partake your exile ?—

Roch. I am a lost man-I surrender. That last shot reached my heart.

Lady C. [Sighing.] Ah. my lord-if that heart were only worth your head! Well, is it agreed?

Roch. It is your will-I undertake the sacrifice-but, madam, bear in mind my recompense.

Lady C. You may hope for every thing. Adieu, my lord. I now begin to believe in your passion, since you are willing to make a sacrifice to it, even of your follies. [Exit, R.

Roch. [Alone.] A pretty task I have undertaken, truly! I Rochester-become reformer! And, then, the convert I have to work upon! Charles, who glories in all kinds of rambling frolics! True,, he has had none but pleasant adventures as yet. If I should trick him into some ridiculous dilemma? My whole life has been a tissue of follies, and I am called a man of wit. I am now to attempt a rational act, and I shall be called a madman! Well, be it so-matrimony will be sure to bring me to my senses.

Enter EDWARD, languidly, R.

Rock. Ah! here comes my young protege-How downcast he seems! How now, Edward, what's the matter with you, boy?

t

Edw. [Sighing.] Nothing, my lord.

Roch. Good heaven, what a sigh to heave up nothing with! Tell me the truth this instant. Hast thou dared to fall in love?

Edw. I hope, my lord, there is no harm in indulging an honest attachment.

Roch. An honest attachment! A young half-fledged page about court, who has hardly tried his wings in the sunshine of beauty, to talk of an honest attachment. Why, thou silly boy, is this the fruit of all the lessons I have given thee?

Edw. Did not your lordship tell me, that one of the first duties of a page was to be zealous in his devotion to the fair?

Roch. Yes; but I told thee to skim over the surface of beauty, just dipping your wings, like a swallow, not plumping in like a goose-I told you to hover from flower to flower like a butterfly, not to bury yourself in one like a bee. An honest attachment! What a plebeian phrase! There's a wife and seven children in the very sound of it.

Edw. My lord, I know your talent for putting things in a whimsical light, but, could you see the object of my passion

Roch. Nay, a truce with all description. But who, pray, is the object of this honest attachment?

Edw. [Embarrassed.] My lord!

Roch. One of the maids of honour, I'll be bound, who has privately been petting you with sweetmeats, and lending you love-tales.

Edw. No, my lord.

Roch Pray, then, give me some clue. What is the name of your beauty?

Edw. Her name, my lord, is Mary.

Roch. Mary! a very pretty posy-like name-And what sequestered spot may the gentle Mary embellish with her presence?

Edw. She lives at the Tav... Nay, my lord, promise not to laugh.

Roch. Come, the residence of this fair one?

Edw. Why, then, my lord, she inhabits the tavern

of the Grand Admiral, in Wapping.

Roch. Usquebaugh and tobacco! the tavern of the Grand Admiral!-Ha! ha! ha!-An honest attachment to some pretty bar-maid!