John, where were Lord Anglesea,[28] Sir Thomas Hanmer, Prior, Freind, etc., and then made a debauch after nine at Prior’s house, and have eaten cold pie, and I hate the thoughts of it, and I am full, and I don’t like it, and I will go to bed, and it is late, and so good−night.
8. To−day I dined with Mr. Harley and Prior; but Mr. St. John did not come, though he promised: he chid me for not seeing him oftener. Here is a damned, libellous pamphlet come out against Lord Wharton, giving the character first, and then telling some of his actions: the character is very well, but the facts indifferent.[29] It has been sent by dozens to several gentlemen’s lodgings, and I had one or two of them; but nobody knows the author or printer. We are terribly afraid of the plague; they say it is at Newcastle.[30] I begged Mr. Harley for the love of God to take some care about it, or we are all ruined. There have been orders for all ships from the Baltic to pass their quarantine before they land; but they neglect it. You remember I have been afraid these two years.
9. O, faith, you are a saucy rogue. I have had your sixth letter just now, before this is gone; but I will not answer a word of it, only that I never was giddy since my first fit; but I have had a cold just a fortnight, and cough with it still morning and evening; but it will go off. It is, however, such abominable weather that no creature can walk. They say here three of your Commissioners will be turned out, Ogle, South, and St.
LETTER 10.
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Quintin;[31] and that Dick Stewart[32] and Ludlow will be two of the new ones. I am a little soliciting for another: it is poor Lord Abercorn,[33] but that is a secret; I mean, that I befriend him is a secret; but I believe it is too late, by his own fault and ill fortune. I dined with him to−day. I am heartily sorry you do not go to Clogher, faith, I am; and so God Almighty protect poor, dear, dear, dear, dearest MD. Farewell till to−night.
I’ll begin my eleventh to− night; so I am always writing to little MD.
LETTER 11.
LONDON, Dec. 9, 1710.
So, young women, I have just sent my tenth to the post−office, and, as I told you, have received your seventh (faith, I am afraid I mistook, and said your sixth, and then we shall be all in confusion this month.) Well, I told you I dined with Lord Abercorn to−day; and that is enough till by and bye; for I must go write idle things, and twittle twattle.[1] What’s here to do with your little MD’s? and so I put this by for a while. ‘Tis now late, and I can only say MD is a dear, saucy rogue, and what then? Presto loves them the better.
10. This son of a b Patrick is out of the way, and I can do nothing; am forced to borrow coals: ’tis now six o’clock, and I am come home after a pure walk in the park; delicate weather, begun only to−day. A terrible storm last night: we hear one of your packet−boats is cast away, and young Beau Swift[2] in it, and General Sankey:[3] I know not the truth; you will before me. Raymond talks of leaving the town in a few days, and going in a month to Ireland, for fear his wife should be too far gone, and forced to be brought to bed here. I think he is in the right; but perhaps this packet−boat will fright him. He has no relish for London; and I do not wonder at it. He has got some Templars from Ireland that show him the town. I do not let him see me above twice a week, and that only while I am dressing in the morning.So, now the puppy’s come in, and I have got my own ink, but a new pen; and so now you are rogues and sauceboxes till I go to bed; for I must go study, sirrahs. Now I think of it, tell the Bishop of Clogher, he shall not cheat me of one inch of my bell metal. You know it is nothing but to save the town money; and Enniskillen can afford it better than Laracor: he shall have but one thousand five hundred weight. I have been reading, etc., as usual, and am now going to bed; and I find this day’s article is long enough: so get you gone till to− morrow, and then. I dined with Sir Matthew Dudley.
11. I am come home again as yesterday, and the puppy had again locked up my ink, notwithstanding all I said to him yesterday; but he came home a little after me, so all is well: they are lighting my fire, and I’ll go study.
The fair weather is gone again, and it has rained all day. I do not like this open weather, though some say it is healthy. They say it is a false report about the plague at Newcastle.[4] I have no news to−day: I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, to desire them to buy me a scarf; and Lady Abercorn[5] is to buy me another, to see who does best: mine is all in rags. I saw the Duke of Richmond[6] yesterday at Court again, but would not speak to him: I believe we are fallen out. I am now in bed; and it has rained all this evening, like wildfire: have you so much rain in your town? Raymond was in a fright, as I expected, upon the news of this shipwreck; but I persuaded him, and he leaves this town in a week. I got him acquainted with Sir Robert Raymond,[7] the Solicitor−General, who owns him to be of his family; and I believe it may do him a kindness, by being recommended to your new Lord Chancellor.I had a letter from Mrs. Long, that has quite turned my stomach against her: no less than two nasty jests in it, with dashes to suppose them. She is corrupted in that country town[8] with vile conversation.I will not answer your letter till I have leisure: so let this go on as it will, what care I? what cares saucy Presto?
12. I was to−day at the Secretary’s office with Lewis, and in came Lord Rivers;[9] who took Lewis out and whispered him; and then came up to me to desire my acquaintance, etc., so we bowed and complimented a while, and parted and I dined with Phil. Savage[10] and his Irish Club, at their boarding−place; and, passing an evening scurvily enough, did not come home till eight. Mr. Addison and I hardly meet once a fortnight; his LETTER 11.
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Parliament and my different friendships keep us asunder. Sir Matthew Dudley turned away his butler yesterday morning; and at night the poor fellow died suddenly in the streets: was not it an odd event? But what care you? But then I knew the butler. Why, it seems your packet−boat is not lost: psha, how silly that is, when I had already gone through the forms, and said it was a sad thing, and that I was sorry for it! But when must I answer this letter of our MD’s? Here it is, it lies between this paper on t’other side of the leaf: one of these odd− come−shortly’s I’ll consider, and so good−night.
13. Morning. I am to go trapesing with Lady Kerry[11] and Mrs. Pratt[12] to see sights all this day: they engaged me yesterday morning at tea. You hear the havoc making in the army: Meredith, Maccartney, and Colonel Honeywood[13] are obliged to sell their commands at half−value, and leave the army, for drinking destruction to the present Ministry, and dressing up a hat on a stick, and calling it Harley; then drinking a glass with one hand, and discharging a pistol with the other at the maukin,[14] wishing it were Harley himself; and a hundred other such pretty tricks, as inflaming their soldiers, and foreign Ministers, against the late changes at Court. Cadogan[15] has had a little paring: his mother[16] told me yesterday he had lost the place of Envoy; but I hope they will go no further with him, for he was not at those mutinous meetings.Well, these saucy jades take up so much of my time with writing to them in a morning; but, faith, I am glad to see you whenever I can: a little snap and away; and so hold your tongue, for I must rise: not a word, for your life. How nowww? So, very well; stay till I come home, and then, perhaps, you may hear further from me. And where will you go to−day, for I can’t be with you for these ladies? It is a rainy, ugly day. I’d have you send for Walls, and go to the Dean’s; but don’t play small games when you lose. You’ll be ruined by Manilio, Basto, the queen, and two small trumps, in red.[17] I confess ’tis a good hand against the player: but then there are Spadilio, Punto, the king, strong trumps, against you, which, with one trump more, are three tricks ten ace: for, suppose you play your ManilioOh, silly, how I prate, and can’t get away from this MD in a morning! Go, get you gone, dear naughty girls, and let me rise. There, Patrick locked up my ink again the third time last night: the rogue gets the better of me; but I will rise in spite of you, sirrahs.At night.