humble Service to your Lady unknown.
_Sir John._ Well, Madam, I can but love and thank you.
_Lady Smart._ Here, bring Water to wash; tho’, really, you have all eaten
so little, that you have no need to wash your Mouths.——
_Ld. Smart._ But, pr’ythee, Sir _John_, stay awhile longer.
_Sir John._ No, my Lord; I am to smoke a Pipe with a Friend before I
leave the Town.
_Col._ Why, Sir _John_, had not you better set out To-morrow?
_Sir John._ Colonel, you forget To-morrow is _Sunday_.
_Col._ Now I always love to begin a Journey on _Sundays_, because I shall
have the Prayers of the Church, to preserve all that travel by Land, or
by Water.
_Sir John._ Well, Colonel; thou art a mad Fellow to make a Priest of.
_Neverout._ Fie, Sir _John_, do you take Tobacco? How can you make a
Chimney of your Mouth?
_Sir John_ [_to Neverout._] What! you don’t smoke, I warrant you, but you
smock. (Ladies, I beg your Pardon.) Colonel, do you never smoke?
_Col._ No, Sir _John_; but I take a Pipe sometimes.
_Sir John._ I’faith, one of your finical _London_ Blades dined with
me last Year in _Darbyshire_; so, after Dinner, I took a Pipe; so my
Gentleman turn’d away his Head: So, said I, What, Sir, do you never
smoke? So, he answered as you do, Colonel; No, but I sometimes take a
Pipe: So, he took a Pipe in his Hand, and fiddled with it till he broke
it: So, said I, Pray, Sir, can you make a Pipe? So, he said No; so, said
I, Why, then, Sir, if you can’t make a Pipe, you should not break a Pipe;
so, we all laugh’d.
_Ld. Smart._ Well; but, Sir _John_, they say, that the Corruption of
Pipes is the Generation of Stoppers.
_Sir John._ Colonel, I hear, you go sometimes to _Darbyshire_; I wish you
would come and foul a Plate with me.
_Col._ I hope, you’ll give me a Soldier’s Bottle.
_Sir John._ Come, and try. Mr. _Neverout_, you are a Town-Wit, can you
tell me what kind of Herb is Tobacco?
_Neverout._ Why, an _Indian_ Herb, Sir _John_.
_Sir John._ No,’tis a Pot Herb; and so here’s t’ye in a Pot of my Lord’s
_October_.
_Lady Smart._ I hear, Sir _John_, since you are married, you have
forsworn the Town.
_Sir John._ No, Madam; I never forswore any thing but building of
Churches.
_Lady Smart._ Well; but, Sir _John_, when may we hope to see you again in
_London_?
_Sir John._ Why, Madam, not till the Ducks have eat up the Dirt; as the
Children say.
_Neverout._ Come, Sir _John_; I foresee it will rain terribly.
_Lady Smart._ Come, Sir _John_, do nothing rashly; let us drink first.
_Ld. Sparkish._ I know Sir _John_ will go, tho’ he was sure it would rain
Cats and Dogs: But pray, stay, Sir _John_; you’ll be time enough to go to
Bed by Candle-light.
_Ld. Smart._ Why, Sir _John_, if you must needs go; while you stay, make
good Use of your Time: Here’s my Service to you, a Health to our Friends
in _Darbyshire_: Come, sit down; let us put off the evil Hour as long as
we can.
_Sir John._ Faith, I could not drink a Drop more, if the House was full.
_Col._ Why, Sir _John_, you used to love a Glass of good Wine in former
Times.
_Sir John._ Why, so I do still, Colonel; but a Man may love his House
very well, without riding on the Ridge: Besides, I must be with my Wife
on _Tuesday_, or there will be the Devil and all to pay.
_Col._ Well, if you go To-day, I wish you may be wet to the Skin.
_Sir John._ Ay; but they say, the Prayers of the Wicked won’t prevail.
[Sir John _takes Leave, and goes away_.
_Ld. Smart._ Well, Miss, how do you like Sir _John_?
_Miss._ Why, I think, he’s a little upon the silly, or so: I believe, he
has not all the Wit in the World; but I don’t pretend to be a Judge.
_Neverout._ Faith, I believe, he was bred at _Hogs-Norton_, where the
Pigs play upon the Organs.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Why, _Tom_, I thought You and He were Hand and Glove.
_Neverout._ Faith, he shall have a clean Threshold for me; I never
darkned his Door in my Life, neither in Town nor Country; but he’s a
quere old Duke by my Conscience; and yet, after all, I take him to be
more Knave than Fool.
_Lady Smart._ Well, come; a Man’s a Man, if he has but a Nose on his
Head.
_Col._ I was once with Him and some other Company over a Bottle; and,
egad, he fell asleep, and snor’d so hard, that we thought he was driving
his Hogs to Market.
_Neverout._ Why, what! you can have no more of a Cat than her Skin; you
can’t make a Silk Purse out of a Sow’s Ear.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Well, since he’s gone, the Devil go with him and
Sixpence; and there’s Money and Company too.
_Neverout._ Faith, he’s a true Country Put. Pray, Miss, let me ask you a
Question?
_Miss._ Well; but don’t ask Questions with a dirty Face: I warrant, what
you have to say will keep cold.
_Col._ Come, my Lord, against you are disposed; Here’s to all that love
and honour you.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Ay, that was always _Dick Nimble_’s Health. I’m sure you
know he’s dead.
_Col._ Dead! Well, my Lord, you love to be a Messenger of ill News: I’m
heartily sorry; but, my Lord, we must all die.
_Neverout._ I knew him very well: But, pray, how came he to die?
_Miss._ There’s a Question! you talk like a Poticary: Why, because he
could live no longer.
_Neverout._ Well; rest his Soul: We must live by the Living, and not by
the Dead.
_Ld. Sparkish._ You know, his House was burnt down to the Ground.
_Col._ Yes; it was in the News: Why Fire and Water are good Servants, but
they are very bad Masters.
_Ld. Smart._ Here, take away, and set down a Bottle of _Burgundy_:
Ladies, you’ll stay, and drink a Glass of Wine before you go to your Tea.
[_All taken away, and the Wine set down_, &c.
[Miss _gives_ Neverout _a smart Pinch_.
_Neverout._ Lord, Miss, what d’ye mean! D’ye think I have no Feeling?
_Miss._ I’m forc’d to pinch, for the Times are hard.
_Neverout_ [_giving Miss a Pinch._] Take that, Miss; what’s Sauce for a
Goose is for a Gander.
_Miss_ [_screaming._] Well, Mr. _Neverout_, if I live, that shall neither
go to Heaven nor Hell with you.
_Neverout_ [_takes Miss’s Hand._] Come, Miss; let us lay all Quarrels
aside, and be Friends.
_Miss._ Don’t be so teizing! You plague a body so!——Can’t you keep your
filthy Hands to yourself?
_Neverout._ Pray, Miss, where did you get that Pick-Tooth Case?
_Miss._ I came honestly by it.
_Neverout._ I’m sure it was mine, for I lost just such a one; nay, I
don’t tell you a Lye.
_Miss._ No; if You lye, it is much.
_Neverout._ Well; I’m sure ’tis mine.
_Miss._ What! you think every Thing is yours, but a little the King has.
_Neverout._ Colonel, you have seen my fine Pick-Tooth Case; don’t you
think this is the very same?
_Col._ Indeed, Miss, it is very like it.
_Miss._ Ay; what he says, you’ll swear.
_Neverout._ Well; but I’ll prove it to be mine.
_Miss._ Ay; do if you can.
_Neverout._ Why, what’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is my own.
_Miss._ Well, run on till you’re weary, nobody holds you.
[Neverout _gapes_.
_Col._ What, Mr. _Neverout_, do you gape for Preferment?
_Neverout._ Faith, I may gape long enough, before it falls into my Mouth.
_Lady Smart._ Mr. _Neverout_, my Lord and I intend to beat up your
Quarters one of these Days: I hear, you live high.
_Neverout._ Yes, faith, Madam; live high, and lodge in a Garret.
_Col._ But, Miss, I forgot to tell you, that Mr. _Neverout_ got the
devilishest Fall in the Park To-day.
_Miss._ I hope he did not hurt the Ground: But how was it, Mr.
_Neverout_? I wish I had been there, to laugh.
_Neverout._ Why, Madam, it was a Place where a Cuckold has been bury’d,
and one of his Horns sticking out, I happened to stumble against it; that
was all.
_Lady Smart._ Ladies, let us leave the Gentlemen to themselves; I think
it is Time to go to our Tea.
_Lady Answ._ & _Miss._ My Lords and Gentlemen, your most humble Servant.
_Ld. Smart._ Well, Ladies, we’ll wait on you an Hour hence.
[_The Gentlemen alone._
_Ld. Smart._ Come, _John_, bring us a fresh Bottle.
_Col._ Ay, my Lord; and, pray, let him carry off the dead Men (as we say
in the Army.)
[_Meaning the empty Bottles._
_Ld. Sparkish._ Mr. _Neverout_, pray, is not that Bottle full?
_Neverout._ Yes, my Lord; full of Emptiness.
_Ld. Smart._ And, d’ye hear, _John_? bring clean Glasses.
_Col._ I’ll keep mine; for I think, the Wine is the best Liquor to wash
Glasses in.
POLITE CONVERSATION, ETC.
DIALOGUE III.
_The Ladies at their Tea._
_Lady Smart._ Well, Ladies; now let us have a Cup of Discourse to
ourselves.
_Lady Answ._ What do you think of your Friend, Sir _John Spendall_?
_Lady Smart._ Why, Madam,’tis happy for him, that his Father was born
before him.
_Miss._ They say, he makes a very ill Husband to my Lady.
_Lady Answ._ But he must be allow’d to be the fondest Father in the World.
_Lady Smart._ Ay, Madam, that’s true; for they say, the Devil is kind to
his own.
_Miss._ I am told, my Lady manages him to Admiration.
_Lady Smart._ That I believe; for she’s as cunning as a dead Pig; but not
half so honest.
_Lady Answ._ They say, she’s quite a Stranger to all his Gallantries.
_Lady Smart._ Not at all; but, you know, there’s none so blind as they
that won’t see.
_Miss._ O Madam, I am told, she watches him, as a Cat would watch a Mouse.
_Lady Answ._ Well, if she ben’t foully belied, she pays him in his own
Coin.
_Lady Smart._ Madam, I fancy I know your Thoughts, as well as if I were
within you.
_Lady Answ._ Madam, I was t’other Day in Company with Mrs. _Clatter_; I
find she gives herself Airs of being acquainted with your Ladyship.
_Miss._ Oh, the hideous Creature! did you observe her Nails? they were
long enough to scratch her Granum out of her Grave.
_Lady Smart._ Well, She and _Tom Gosling_ were banging Compliments
backwards and forwards; it look’d like Two Asses scrubbing one another.
_Miss._ Ay, claw me, and I’ll claw thou: But, pray, Madam; who were the
Company?
_Lady Smart._ Why, there was all the World, and his Wife; there was Mrs.
_Clatter_, Lady _Singular_, the Countess of _Talkham_, (I should have
named her first;) _Tom Goslin_, and some others, whom I have forgot.
_Lady Answ._ I think the Countess is very sickly.
_Lady Smart._ Yes, Madam; she’ll never scratch a grey Head, I promise her.
_Miss._ And, pray, what was your Conversation?
_Lady Smart._ Why, Mrs. _Clatter_ had all the Talk to herself, and was
perpetually complaining of her Misfortunes.
_Lady Answ._ She brought her Husband Ten Thousand Pounds; she has a
Town-House and Country-house: Would the Woman have her —— hung with
Points?
_Lady Smart._ She would fain be at the Top of the House before the Stairs
are built.
_Miss._ Well, Comparisons are odious; but she’s as like her Husband, as
if she were spit out of his Mouth; as like as one Egg is to another:
Pray, how was she drest?
_Lady Smart._ Why, she was as fine as Fi’pence; but, truly, I thought,
there was more Cost than Worship.
_Lady Answ._ I don’t know her Husband: Pray, what is he?
_Lady Smart._ Why, he’s a Concealer of the Law; you must know, he came to
us as drunk as _David_’s Sow.
_Miss._ What kind of Creature is he?
_Lady Smart._ You must know, the Man and his Wife are coupled like
Rabbets, a fat and a lean; he’s as fat as a Porpus, and she’s one of
_Pharaoh_’s lean Kine: The Ladies and _Tom Gosling_ were proposing a
Party at Quadrille, but he refus’d to make one: Damn your Cards, said he,
they are the Devil’s Books.
_Lady Answ._ A dull unmannerly Brute! Well, God send him more Wit, and me
more Money.
_Miss._ Lord! Madam, I would not keep such Company for the World.
_Lady Smart._ O Miss, ’tis nothing when you are used to it: Besides, you
know, for Want of Company, welcome Trumpery.
_Miss._ Did your Ladyship play?
_Lady Smart._ Yes, and won; so I came off with Fidlers Fare, Meat, Drink,
and Money.
_Lady Answ._ Ay; what says _Pluck_?
_Miss._ Well, my Elbow itches; I shall change Bed-fellows.
_Lady Smart._ And my Right Hand itches; I shall receive Money.
_Lady Answ._ And my Right Eye itches; I shall cry.
_Lady Smart._ Miss, I hear your Friend Mistress _Giddy_ has discarded
_Dick Shuttle_: Pray, has she got another Lover?
_Miss._ I hear of none.
_Lady Smart._ Why, the Fellow’s rich; and I think she was a Fool to throw
out her dirty Water before she got clean.
_Lady Answ._ Miss, that’s a very handsome Gown of yours, and finely made;
very genteel.
_Miss._ I’m glad your Ladyship likes it.
_Lady Answ._ Your Lover will be in Raptures; it becomes you admirably.
_Miss._ Ay; I assure you I won’t take it as I have done; if this won’t
fetch him, the Devil fetch him, say I.
_Lady Smart_ [_to Lady Answ._] Pray, Madam, when did you see Sir _Peter
Muckworm_?
_Lady Answ._ Not this Fortnight; I hear, he’s laid up with the Gout.
_Lady Smart._ What does he do for it?
_Lady Answ._ Why I hear he’s weary of doctoring it, and now makes Use of
nothing but Patience and Flannel.
_Miss._ Pray, how does He and my Lady agree?
_Lady Answ._ You know, he loves her as the Devil loves Holy Water.
_Miss._ They say, she plays deep with Sharpers, that cheat her of her
Money.
_Lady Answ._ Upon my Word, they must rise early that would cheat her of
her Money; Sharp’s the Word with her; Diamonds cut Diamonds.
_Miss._ Well, but I was assur’d from a good Hand that she lost at one
Sitting to the Tune of a hundred Guineas; make Money of that.
_Lady Smart._ Well, but do you hear, that Mrs. _Plump_ is brought to Bed
at last?
_Miss._ And, pray, what has God sent her?
_Lady Smart._ Why, guess, if you can.
_Miss._ A Boy, I suppose.
_Lady Smart._ No, you are out; guess again.
_Miss._ A Girl then.
_Lady Smart._ You have hit it; I believe you are a Witch.
_Miss._ O Madam; the Gentlemen say, all fine Ladies are Witches; but I
pretend to no such thing.
_Lady Answ._ Well, she had good Luck to draw _Tom Plump_ into Wedlock;
she ris’ with her —— upwards.
_Miss._ Fie, Madam! what do you mean?
_Lady Smart._ O Miss; ’tis nothing what we say among ourselves.
_Miss._ Ay, Madam; but they say, Hedges have Eyes, and Walls have Ears.
_Lady Answ._ Well, Miss, I can’t help it; you know, I am old Tell-Truth;
I love to call a Spade a Spade.
_Lady Smart_ [_mistakes the Tea-tongs for the Spoon._] What! I think my
Wits are a Wool-gathering To-day.
_Miss._ Why, Madam, there was but a Right and a Wrong.
_Lady Smart._ Miss, I hear, that You and Lady _Coupler_ are as great as
Cup and Can.
_Lady Answ._ Ay, Miss; as great as the Devil and the Earl of _Kent_.
_Lady Smart._ Nay, I am told, you meet together with as much Love, as
there is between the old Cow and the Hay-stack.
_Miss._ I own, I love her very well; but there’s Difference betwixt
staring and stark mad.
_Lady Smart._ They say, she begins to grow fat.
_Miss._ Fat! ay, fat as a Hen in the Forehead.
_Lady Smart._ Indeed, Lady _Answerall_, (pray, forgive me) I think, your
Ladyship looks thinner than when I saw you last.
_Miss._ Indeed, Madam, I think not; but your Ladyship is one of _Job_’s
Comforters.
_Lady Answ._ Well, no matter how I look; I am bought and sold: but
really, Miss, you are so very obliging, that I wish I were a handsome
young Lord for your Sake.
_Miss._ O Madam, your Love’s a Million.
_Lady Smart_ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, will your Ladyship let me wait on
you to the Play To-morrow?
_Lady Answ._ Madam, it becomes me to wait on your Ladyship.
_Miss._ What, then, I’m turn’d out for a Wrangler.
[_The Gentlemen come in to the Ladies to drink Tea._
_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_, we wanted you sadly; you are always out of the
Way when you should be hang’d.
_Neverout._ You wanted me! Pray, Miss, how do you look when you lye?
_Miss._ Better than you when you cry. Manners indeed! I find, you mend
like sour Ale in Summer.
_Neverout._ I beg your Pardon, Miss; I only meant, when you lie alone.
_Miss._ That’s well turn’d; one Turn more would have turn’d you down
Stairs.
_Neverout._ Come, Miss; be kind for once, and order me a Dish of Coffee.
_Miss._ Pray, go yourself; let us wear out the oldest first: Besides, I
can’t go, for I have a Bone in my Leg.
_Col._ They say, a Woman need but look on her Apron-string to find an
Excuse.
_Neverout._ Why, Miss, you are grown so peevish, a Dog would not live
with you.
_Miss._ Mr. _Neverout_, I beg your Diversion; no Offence, I hope: but
truly in a little time you intend to make the Colonel as bad as yourself;
and that’s as bad as bad can.
_Neverout._ My Lord, don’t you think Miss improves wonderfully of late?
Why, Miss, if I spoil the Colonel, I hope you will use him as you do me;
for, you know, love me, love my Dog.
_Col._ How’s that, _Tom_? Say that again: Why, if I am a Dog, shake
Hands, Brother.
[_Here a great, loud, long Laugh._
_Ld. Smart._ But, pray, Gentlemen, why always so severe upon poor Miss?
On my Conscience, Colonel and _Tom Neverout_, one of you two are both
Knaves.
_Col._ My Lady _Answerall_, I intend to do myself the Honour of dining
with your Ladyship To-morrow.
_Lady Answ._ Ay, Colonel; do if you can.
_Miss._ I’m sure you’ll be glad to be welcome.
_Col._ Miss, I thank you; and, to reward You, I’ll come and drink Tea
with you in the Morning.
_Miss._ Colonel, there’s Two Words to that Bargain.
_Col._ [_to Lady Smart._] Your Ladyship has a very fine Watch; well may
you wear it.
_Lady Smart._ It is none of mine, Colonel.
_Col._ Pray, whose is it then?
_Lady Smart._ Why, ’tis my Lord’s; for they say, a marry’d Woman has
nothing of her own, but her Wedding-Ring and her Hair-Lace: But if Women
had been the Law-Makers, it would have been better.
_Col._ This Watch seems to be quite new.
_Lady Smart._ No, Sir; it has been Twenty Years in my Lord’s Family; but
_Quare_ put a new Case and Dial-Plate to it.
_Neverout._ Why, that’s for all the World like the Man who swore he kept
the same Knife forty Years, only he sometimes changed the Haft, and
sometimes the Blade.
_Ld. Smart._ Well, _Tom_, to give the Devil his Due, thou art a right
Woman’s Man.
_Col._ Odd-so! I have broke the Hinge of my Snuff-box; I’m undone beside
the Loss.
_Miss._ Alack-a-day, Colonel! I vow I had rather have found Forty
Shillings.
_Neverout._ Why, Colonel; all that I can say to comfort you, is, that you
must mend it with a new one.
[Miss _laughs_.
_Col._ What, Miss! you can’t laugh, but you must shew your Teeth.
_Miss._ I’m sure you shew your Teeth when you can’t bite: Well, thus it
must be, if we sell Ale.
_Neverout._ Miss, you smell very sweet; I hope you don’t carry Perfumes.
_Miss._ Perfumes! No, Sir; I’d have you to know, it is nothing but the
Grain of my Skin.
_Col._ _Tom_, you have a good Nose to make a poor Man’s Sow.
_Ld. Sparkish._ So, Ladies and Gentlemen, methinks you are very witty
upon one another: Come, box it about; ’twill come to my Father at last.
_Col._ Why, my Lord, you see Miss has no Mercy; I wish she were marry’d;
but I doubt, the grey Mare would prove the better Horse.
_Miss._ Well, God forgive you for that Wish.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Never fear him, Miss.
_Miss._ What, my Lord, do you think I was born in a Wood, to be afraid of
an Owl?
_Ld. Smart._ What have you to say to that, Colonel?
_Neverout._ O my Lord, my Friend the Colonel scorns to set his Wit
against a Child.
_Miss._ Scornful Dogs will eat dirty Puddens.
_Col._ Well, Miss; they say, a Woman’s Tongue is the last thing about her
that dies; therefore let’s kiss and Friends.
_Miss._ Hands off! that’s Meat for your Master.
_Ld. Sparkish._ Faith, Colonel, you are for Ale and Cakes: But after all,
Miss, you are too severe; you would not meddle with your Match.
_Miss._ All they can say goes in at one Ear, and out at t’other for me, I
can assure you: Only I wish they would be quiet, and let me drink my Tea.
_Neverout._ What! I warrant you think all is lost, that goes beside your
own Mouth.
_Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, hold your Tongue for once, if it be
possible; one would think, you were a Woman in Man’s Cloaths, by your
prating.
_Neverout._ No, Miss; it is not handsome to see one hold one’s Tongue:
Besides, I should slobber my Fingers.
_Col._ Miss, did you never hear, that Three Women and a Goose are enough
to make a Market?
_Miss._ I’m sure, if Mr. _Neverout_ or You were among them, it would make
a Fair.
[Footman _comes in_.
_Lady Smart._ Here, take away the Tea-table, and bring up Candles.
_Lady Answ._ O Madam, no Candles yet, I beseech you; don’t let us burn
Day-Light.
_Neverout._ I dare swear, Miss, for her Part, will never burn Day-Light,
if she can help it.
_Miss._ Lord, Mr. _Neverout_, one can’t hear one’s own Ears for you.
_Lady Smart._ Indeed, Madam, it is Blind-Man’s Holiday; we shall soon be
all of a Colour.
_Neverout._ Why, then, Miss, we may kiss where we like best.
_Miss._ Fogh! these Men talk of nothing but kissing.
[_She spits._
_Neverout._ What, Miss, does it make your Mouth water?
_Lady Smart._ It is as good be in the Dark as without Light; therefore
pray bring in Candles: They say, Women and Linen shew best by
Candle-Light: Come, Gentlemen, are you for a Party at Quadrille?
_Col._ I’ll make one with you three Ladies.
_Lady Answ._ I’ll sit down, and be a Stander-by.
_Lady Smart._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, does your Ladyship never play?
_Col._ Yes; I suppose her Ladyship plays sometimes for an Egg at _Easter_.
_Neverout._ Ay; and a Kiss at _Christmas_.
_Lady Answ._ Come, Mr. _Neverout_; hold your Tongue, and mind your
Knitting.
_Neverout._ With all my Heart; kiss my Wife, and welcome.
[_The_ Colonel, _Mr._ Neverout, _Lady_ Smart _and_ Miss _go to
Quadrille, and sit till Three in the Morning_.
[_They rise from Cards._]
_Lady Smart._ Well, Miss, you’ll have a sad Husband, you have such good
Luck at Cards.
_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, you dealt me sad Cards; if you deal so ill by
your Friends, what will you do with your Enemies?
_Lady Answ._ I’m sure ’tis time for honest Folks to be a-bed.
_Miss._ Indeed my Eyes draws Straw.
[_She’s almost asleep._
_Neverout._ Why, Miss, if you fall asleep, somebody may get a Pair of
Gloves.
_Col._ I’m going to the Land of _Nod_.
_Neverout._ Faith, I’m for _Bedfordshire_.
_Lady Smart._ I’m sure I shall sleep without rocking.
_Neverout._ Miss, I hope you’ll dream of your Sweetheart.
_Miss._ Oh, no doubt of it: I believe I shan’t be able to sleep for
dreaming of him.
_Col._ [_to Miss._] Madam, shall I have the Honour to escort you?
_Miss._ No, Colonel, I thank you; my Mamma has sent her Chair and
Footmen. Well, my Lady _Smart_, I’ll give you Revenge whenever you please.
[Footman _comes in_.
_Footman._ Madam, the Chairs are waiting.
[_They all take their Chairs, and go off._
FINIS.
ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES.
PAGE 5, l. 1. 1695.—This date, and the previous “more than forty years
past,” are of course adjusted to the date of the book’s appearance. See
Introduction for its probable chronology.
PAGE 5, l. 18. For “because” I am half inclined to read “became”—a very
likely misprint.
PAGE 6, ll. 4-10. “_Twelve ... Sixteen._”—This would bring us to 1723,
which may or may not mark the date of a version of the “Conversation.”
The first “Twelve” would almost exactly coincide with the “Essay on
Conversation” referred to above.
PAGE 12, l. 18. “_Isaac the Dancing-Master._”—Called by Steele in
“Tatler,” No. 34, “my namesake Isaac.” He is best known by Soame Jenyns’
couplet:—
“And Isaac’s rigadoon shall live as long
As Raphael’s painting or as Virgil’s song.”
He was, as became his profession, a Frenchman. Southey refers to him in
“The Doctor.”
PAGE 16, l. 6. “_Comedies and other fantastick Writings._”—Where they
will be found, as the ingenious Mr. Wagstaff says, “strewed here and
there.”
PAGES 16, 17.—“_Graham. D. of R. E. of E. Lord and Lady H._”—I do not
know that attempts at identifying these shadowy personages would be very
wise. But the date assigned to the Colonel is one of the marks of long
incubation. “Towards the end” of Charles II.’s reign would be about 1684.
A fine gentleman of that day might very well have been Mr. Wagstaff’s
“companion” had the latter written in 1710—less well had he written a
quarter of a century later.
PAGE 18, l. 24.—Swift, like a good Tory and Churchman, never forgave
Burnet.
PAGE 21, l. 2. “_Selling of Bargains_” is the returning of a coarse
answer to a question or other remark. So in Dorset’s charming poem about
“This Bess of my heart, this Bess of my soul.”
PAGE 24, l. 26. “_Great Ornaments of Style_,” or, as it hath been put
otherwise, “_a grand set-off to conversation_.”—Observe that in these
passages as to Free-Thinking and Oaths, Swift maintains his invariable
attitude as to profanity.
PAGE 25, last line. “_Poet._”—I know him not, if he ever existed save as
a maggot of Swift’s brain.