The Showman: You mean, a tramp who flutes for bread and pence? King Cole: I come, and flute, and then I wander thence. The Showman: Quicksilver Tom, who couldn't keep his place. King Cole: My race being run, I love to watch the race. The Showman: You ought to seek your rest. King Cole: My rest is this, The world of men, wherever trouble is. The Showman: If trouble rests you, God! your life is rest. [Pg 21]King Cole: [Pg 21] Even the sun keeps moving, east to west. The Showman: Little he gets by moving; less than I.