Volume I Part 26 (1/2)
RICHMOND LODGE
My master, scarce a fortnight since, Was grown as wealthy as a prince; But now it will be no such thing, For he'll be poor as any king; And by his crown will nothing get, But like a king to run in debt.
MARBLE HILL
No more the Dean, that grave divine, Shall keep the key of my (no) wine; My ice-house rob, as heretofore, And steal my artichokes no more; Poor Patty Blount[3] no more be seen Bedraggled in my walks so green: Plump Johnny Gay will now elope; And here no more will dangle Pope.
RICHMOND LODGE
Here wont the Dean, when he's to seek, To spunge a breakfast once a-week; To cry the bread was stale, and mutter Complaints against the royal b.u.t.ter.
But now I fear it will be said, No b.u.t.ter sticks upon his bread.[4]
We soon shall find him full of spleen, For want of tattling to the queen; Stunning her royal ears with talking; His reverence and her highness walking: While Lady Charlotte,[5] like a stroller, Sits mounted on the garden-roller.
A goodly sight to see her ride, With ancient Mirmont[6] at her side.
In velvet cap his head lies warm, His hat, for show, beneath his arm.
MARBLE HILL
Some South-Sea broker from the city Will purchase me, the more's the pity; Lay all my fine plantations waste, To fit them to his vulgar taste: Chang'd for the worse in ev'ry part, My master Pope will break his heart.
RICHMOND LODGE
In my own Thames may I be drownded, If e'er I stoop beneath a crown'd head: Except her majesty prevails To place me with the Prince of Wales; And then I shall be free from fears, For he'll be prince these fifty years.
I then will turn a courtier too, And serve the times as others do.
Plain loyalty, not built on hope, I leave to your contriver, Pope; None loves his king and country better, Yet none was ever less their debtor.
MARBLE HILL
Then let him come and take a nap In summer on my verdant lap; Prefer our villas, where the Thames is, To Kensington, or hot St. James's; Nor shall I dull in silence sit; For 'tis to me he owes his wit; My groves, my echoes, and my birds, Have taught him his poetic words.
We gardens, and you wildernesses, a.s.sist all poets in distresses.
Him twice a-week I here expect, To rattle Moody[7] for neglect; An idle rogue, who spends his quartridge In tippling at the Dog and Partridge; And I can hardly get him down Three times a-week to brush my gown.
RICHMOND LODGE
I pity you, dear Marble Hill; But hope to see you flourish still.
All happiness--and so adieu.
MARBLE HILL
Kind Richmond Lodge, the same to you.
[Footnote 1: The King left England on the 3rd June, 1727, and after supping heartily and sleeping at the Count de Twellet's house near Delden on the 9th, he continued his journey to Osnabruck, where he arrived at the house of his brother, the Duke of York, on the night of the 11th, wholly paralyzed, and died calmly the next morning, in the very same room where he was born.--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 2: Swift was probably not aware how nearly he described the narrowed situation of Mrs. Howard's finances. Lord Orford, in a letter to Lord Strafford, 29th July, 1767, written shortly after her death, described her affairs as so far from being easy, that the utmost economy could by no means prevent her exceeding her income considerably; and states in his Reminiscences, that, besides Marble Hill, which cost the King ten or twelve thousand pounds, she did not leave above twenty thousand pounds to her family.--See ”Lord Orford's Works,” vol. iv, p.
304; v, p. 456.--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 3: Who was ”often in Swift's thoughts,” and ”high in his esteem”; and to whom Pope dedicated his second ”Moral Epistle.”--_W. E. B._]
[Footnote 4: This also proved a prophecy more true than the Dean suspected.]
[Footnote 5: Lady Charlotte de Roussy, a French lady.--_Dublin Edition_.]