Herewith the end of the romance I have inflicted on your obliging
attention, and I am now to tell you your comments were fully justified and
I have writ myself down an ass and invoked as fine a lampoon as Pope could
write in gall and vinegar. "Sappho" will be as nothing to it, and indeed
that I, that know the world or should know it, should behave so like a
country bumpkin new come to town is gall and wormwood to myself. I cannot
hide from a friend what all the world will soon ridicule, and had sooner
you heard it from me than another. Was you to reproach my folly as I
deserve, you will write volumes and I promise to read with seasonable
humility. Sure I must be falling into premature dotage.
I was at Twicknam again, somewhat ailing with My common swelled face, when
I was told Mr Carew would see me. I refused, but he would take no denial
and indeed forced his way in--so pale that I could expect nothing but the
worst news of my son and implored him to speak. 'Twas some time and took a
dram to restore him before he could answer, what with his haste and
fluttered spirits. But when he did--'twas to tell me Madam had flown the
day they married. The ceremony was scarce over and they returned to the
house, when, making some excuse, she slipt from the room. He waited as
long as a bridegroom's patience would hold out and followed her; but found
she was nowhere to be seen. Your kindness, Madam, will conceive the horror
with which he searched everywhere, but could get no news. The least he
could suppose was that she was murdered for the diamond ring he gave her
on the occasion.
At the last he had recourse to the law, and what a discovery was there.
Who think you was my paragon--the compendium in little of all the female
virtues? Why, Sally Salisbury's niece! and the equal of Sally herself for
worthless good looks and behaviour. She is not yet well known to the town
or I could not have been so took in. But you will recall that Molly
Skerret observed the likeness to that drab Sally on seeing her. Good
Heaven, that I had heeded, and not harboured the slut!
Yet there is worse to follow, and I know not how to tell such folly, but
must do so. She is the wife of my son, whom indeed I knew capable of any
wickedness short of robbing his mother. He picked the hussy up in the
Fleet and wed her, and then, being in debt, the thought struck the
promising pair that my jewels might meet their needs. He took advantage of
the loss of my ring to have it copied, and the rest followed easy with a
fool like me.
"But I beseech you, Madam," says poor Carew, shaking in every limb, "that
you would have the goodness to review your jewels, since the only way I
can reason upon her continuing with you and pretending to accept my
addresses was to take time while Mrs Pratt was under suspicion to make off
with more and keep you easy about them. The pretended love-affair with Mrs
Pratt was plainly to be a false scent."
I sent for my cases, and find my chain of diamonds, my gold etui set with
diamonds, my Turkish clasp with emeralds, and other things disappeared
with my Venus. I enclose the list and description, for I learn Miss Sally
Salisbury is now in Paris, and it is probable that her niece and nephew
(my son) have joined her or committed the jewels to her good offices. I am
ashamed to give your Ladyship such trouble about this trifle, yet beg your
obliging enquiries in the Rue des Moineaux or where else your Lord may
suggest. But by all means keep it from Horace Walpole. I want not his
bitter tongue to lick my sores. 'Tis of course certain we cannot use the
law, considering who is involved--a point Madam no doubt laid her account
with when she carried through the plot.
Lord, when I think of my sentiment wasted on the arrant hussy! My green
churchyards and Lady Bountifuls and all the praise of simplicity and
parade of folly that took me because of a pretty face and arts from the
gutter. Well, 'tis the miserable truth that this young fool (who sure must
get it from his mother) did wed this slut at the Fleet two years since,
and hath damned himself for life. He is now as weary of her as is to be
expected, and besought me to deliver him from the consequence of his
folly. Beside that fact the affair of the diamonds seems shrunk, for
nothing can be done, nor does he deserve it. He whines like a whipt dog in
his letters.
I would my father had lived to see the soundness of Mr Wortley's
reasoning, when he refused to entail his estates upon a future child of
whose vices and disposition he could know nothing. 'Twould certainly be
the young gentleman's utter ruin had he money to handle in reversion. I
will not trouble you with the number of falsehoods he has stuft into his
letters.
I have trained myself to fortitude, and go about with as many knives stuck
in my heart as our Lady of the Seven Dolours that I saw in Vienna, but
make much less display of them. The best news I could have at this moment
would be the young villain's death, for the misery he will yet bring upon
himself and others is too certain. For Madam, she will doubtless be heard
of yet in a manner that the decency of my sex obliges me to soften. I
doubt they will both end on the gallows, though indeed her face will
probably save her that or any penalty.
Well, I have done with such fragments of a heart as I had, and wish it may
never trouble me more. I am sick of the cant of sentiment and duties and
suchlike, which is the mask men use to cover what will not bear
considering. Let me write of it no more. The open wickedness of the world
we live in is preferable to hypocrisy and cringing. I will rather laugh
with others than be a laughing-stock. I sicken at this complication of
folly and falsity. I go to the Bath shortly, and look for change and
pleasure there, though Mr Wortley speaks of passing through on his way to
Bristol, I know not for what. Lord Hervey is resolved to come there,
though I fear it will not please his lady, who seems resolved to keep so
general a blessing to herself, which is more than she or any can hope. She
takes it, however, with easy good sense, and wisely, for there's nothing
on earth, I protest, worth a tear.
The rage for cards runs higher than ever, and let me conclude my romance
and this long paper with a pretty parable of them that is making the round
of the town. Will your Ladyship guess the author? 'T is called "The
Goddesses of Chance."
"There was long since in the Moon four Goddesses. One was the Queen of
Riches, the second the Queen of Love, the third the Queen of Power, and of
the fourth you'll hear anon. 'Tis to be supposed the fourth received the
most homage; for a thing known loses its value, as when a man despises his
own wife and thinks Lord M.'s a descended Venus, when, was the case
reversed, his own would be his object.
"On a certain day these ladies, being, after all, women, disputed between
themselves on a point of precedence.
"Says the Goddess of Riches, jingling her diamonds:--
"'I come first with all. I am worshipt in every polite country, and even
the blacks fight over the shells that are their coinage. I give not only
gold but all it can buy, inclusive of such bagatelles as love and honour,
and all the other little nothings men cry up when they have a mind to be
droll. I need give no examples though I might cite the late marriage of my
Lady M. E. at the age of fifteen to a wealthy lord of seventy-five that
shall be nameless. Undoubtedly I am Queen of all.'
"'Not by any means,' says the Goddess of Hearts, adjusting her crown with
a simper. ''Tis I am supreme. 'Tis known a young rake will sell his last
estate to win a smile from Miss Sally Salisbury and other worthy ladies.
And hath not the Countess of H----t lately run off with her footman? I
lead statesmen and kings by the nose. Many such moral examples could I
give if needful.'
"The Goddess of Power, brandishing her club with a brawny arm, then
replied:--
"'I beg your Ladyships would cease twattling when 'tis in my power with a
crack of my club to silence you all. I leave you to judge whether anything
in life is so powerful as what can end it. What's love when a crack on the
sconce can kill it, or riches when a blow can turn it over to the
grimacing heir-at-law? No, no, ladies. Strength comes first, and this
was seen when the Strong Man was at Bartholomew Fair and half the beauties
ran after him and poured their gold in a perfect Pactolus at his feet.
Show your good sense, therefore, by a discreet silence.'
"But still they disputed, and at last the fourth said:--
"'Sisters, let us descend to earth, that we may settle the question which
I see not how else to conclude.'
"'But how shall we go?' says the three at once.
"'We will go as the Queens of Chance, and men may sport with us, play with
us, revile us, men and women alike. And they shall sell us their honour,
love, and whatever else they have marketable, and on the day of Judgment
we four will see whose bag is fullest of their commodities. 'Tis the only
way to settle the dispute. And in the end all shall come to me.'
"And the three said: 'And who are you, Madam?'
"And says she: 'With my black spade I dig the earth where all shall lie.
'Tis I will be the Black Hag of the Pack, and you shall strip them and I
will dig their graves. Be it known to you that I am Destiny herself.'
"So they came to earth, and are the Queens of Diamonds, Hearts, and Clubs.
But if the Queen of Spades be in your hand, say the gambler's prayer
backward, for she is the chance you can't reckon in the game, or in life
or death."
I think it neatly turned, whoever did it, and I declare this little
writing hath so affrighted the fine ladies, that Mrs Murray swooned away
at the Duchess of Manchester's, finding the Queen of Spades in her hand at
commerce, and was forced to be revived with strong waters. His Grace of
Wharton, known to you and me as "Sophia," hath given up cards altogether,
though whether it be the parable, I know not. And the viper of Twicknam is
so jealous that he did not himself write this piece, that he spews his
venom in all directions, in hope some will settle on the author. His
pleasure to scourge alike the follies and virtues of mankind is, for aught
I know, the liveliest this world affords. The follies are, at least,
inexhaustible, and none need be at a loss for amusement that can taste
them, whether in themselves or others.
The Queen, who I can't undertake to commiserate for bad health, so hard a
life as she leads, hath had the unspeakable blessing to see her lord
return from Hanover, after a storm which induced his faithful subjects to
believe they had lost him. Will your Ladyship credit that the wits affixed
a paper to the walls of St. James's Palace with, writ on it, this
following:--
"Lost or strayed out of this house, a man who has left a wife and six
children on the parish. Whoever will give tidings of him to the
churchwardens of St. James's Palace, so as he may be got again, shall
receive four shillings and sixpence reward.--N.B. This reward will not be
increased, nobody judging him to be worth a crown."
Impudence indeed! But I hear from Lord Hervey that she is counselled by
Sir Robert Walpole to invite Madame Walmoden hither from Hanover, to amuse
his leisure. 'Tis done as you might throw a bone to a dog, while Her
Majesty and the Walpole pursue the business of governing. I have no sort
of liking for either, but own, had that woman been a man, she had been a
great one, so entirely does she subdue her heart and all the femininities
in her to what her reason demands. When she dies, and it can't be long
first, from what I hear, the fool she leaves will drift like a stick in a
stream.
Well, I sicken of England and of the town and the wits and all else. My
mind is made up to quit this country ere long, and seek peace abroad,
where I found it when I was younger than I am now. Folly! I tell myself
so, and yet I will do it, when one or two businesses I must attend on are
finished. 'Tis not that I am a lamenter over that I have told you. I care
not what happens to my prodigal, and had sooner be out of hearing of his
doings. When a cup is broke, throw it from you and think of it no more.
But whether 'tis the spleen or the vapours, I have a mind to cross the
water and seek a new earth, if not a new heaven. Here I am in neither, but
in purgatory. Quelle vie!--'Tis what I say daily.
Adieu, my dearest Madam--may it not be long before we meet.
Inviolably yours,