The Works of the Right Honourable Sir Chas. Hanbury Williams ... From the Originals in the Possession of His Grandson The Right Hon. The Earl of Essex and Others: With Notes by Horace Walpole ... In Three Volumes, with Portraits |
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ISABELLA;
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 | The Works of the Right Honourable Sir Chas. Hanbury Williams |  |
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ISABELLA;
OR, THE MORNING
THE ARGUMENT.
THE Duchess of Manchester is represented as rising from breakfast with her parrot, monkey, and lap-dog.—Dicky Bateman comes in with a Staffordshire tea-pot, with which the Duchess is charmed:—a simile—She makes a fine speech upon the occasion, which is broken off by General C. Churchill's coming in. —His character.—His first speech.—The Duchess shows him the tea-pot.—She tells him of fire-works to be sold at Margus's, which gives him an opportunity of telling a story of some he saw in Flanders. It appears from the very beginning of the story that it could have no end.—It is broken off by the entrance of Charles Stanhope.—A simile on his coming in.—His character as a companion.—He gives an account of a polypus.—The Duchess longs for a polypus.—Both the Charles's fall fast asleep, on each side of the Duchess.—Contrast between Susanna and the two elders.—The whole company roused by Lord Lovell's coming into the room.—His character.—He talks of the Opera, of Chesterfield and Fanny.—Lady Fanny's looks owing to love.—The General begins the story of Miss How.—The company's dismay described at the General's beginning a story.—The clock strikes three.— The Duchess rings to dress.—The company rises.—The departure of the company described.
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In various talk the instructive hours they past.
Milton.
THE monkey, lap-dog, parrot, and her Grace,
Had each retir'd from breakfast to their place,
When, hark, a knock! “See, Betty, see who's there:”
“'Tis Mr. Bateman, ma'am, in his new chair:”
“Dicky's new chair! the charming'st thing in town,
“Whose poles are lacker'd, and whose lining's brown!”
But see, he enters with his shuffling gait;
“Lord,” says her Grace, “how could you be so late?”
“I'm sorry, madam, I have made you wait,”
Bateman reply'd; “I only stay'd to bring
“The newest, charming'st, most delightful thing!”
“Oh! tell me what's the curiosity!
“Oh! show it me this instant, or I die!”
To please the noble dame, the courtly 'squire
Produc'd a tea-pot, made in Staffordshire:
With eager eyes the longing Duchess stood,
And o'er and o'er the shining bauble view'd:
Such were the joys touch'd young Atrides'breast,
Such all the Grecian host at once exprest,
When from beneath his robe, to all their view,
Laertes' son, the fam'd Palladium drew.
So Venus look'd, and with such longing eyes,
When Paris first produc'd the golden prize.
“Such work as this,” she cries, “can England do?
“It equals Dresden, and outdoes St. Cloud:
“All modern China now shall hide its head,
“And e'en Chantilly must give o'er the trade:
“For lace let Flanders bear away the bell,
“In finest linen let the Dutch excel;
“For prettiest stuffs let Ireland first be nam'd,
“And for best-fancy'd silks let France be fam'd;
“Do thou, thrice happy England! still prepare
“This clay, and build thy fame on earthen-ware.”
More she'd have said, but that again she heard
The knocker—and the General appear'd.
Had each retir'd from breakfast to their place,
When, hark, a knock! “See, Betty, see who's there:”
“'Tis Mr. Bateman, ma'am, in his new chair:”
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“Whose poles are lacker'd, and whose lining's brown!”
But see, he enters with his shuffling gait;
“Lord,” says her Grace, “how could you be so late?”
“I'm sorry, madam, I have made you wait,”
Bateman reply'd; “I only stay'd to bring
“The newest, charming'st, most delightful thing!”
“Oh! tell me what's the curiosity!
“Oh! show it me this instant, or I die!”
To please the noble dame, the courtly 'squire
Produc'd a tea-pot, made in Staffordshire:
With eager eyes the longing Duchess stood,
And o'er and o'er the shining bauble view'd:
Such were the joys touch'd young Atrides'breast,
Such all the Grecian host at once exprest,
When from beneath his robe, to all their view,
Laertes' son, the fam'd Palladium drew.
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When Paris first produc'd the golden prize.
“Such work as this,” she cries, “can England do?
“It equals Dresden, and outdoes St. Cloud:
“All modern China now shall hide its head,
“And e'en Chantilly must give o'er the trade:
“For lace let Flanders bear away the bell,
“In finest linen let the Dutch excel;
“For prettiest stuffs let Ireland first be nam'd,
“And for best-fancy'd silks let France be fam'd;
“Do thou, thrice happy England! still prepare
“This clay, and build thy fame on earthen-ware.”
More she'd have said, but that again she heard
The knocker—and the General appear'd.
The Gen'ral, one of those brave old commanders,
Who serv'd through all the glorious wars in Flanders;
Frank and good-natur'd, of an honest heart,
Loving to act the steady friendly part:
None led through youth a gayer life than he,
Cheerful in converse, smart in repartee.
Sweet was his night, and joyful was his day,
He din'd with Walpole, and with Oldfield lay;
But with old age its vices came along,
And in narration he's extremely long;
Exact in circumstance, and nice in dates,
On every subject he his tale relates.
If you name one of Marlbro's ten campaigns,
He tells you its whole history for your pains:
And Blenheim's field becomes by his reciting,
As long in telling as it was in fighting:
His old desire to please is still express'd;
His hat's well cock'd, his periwig's well dress'd:
He rolls his stockings still, white gloves he wears,
And in the boxes with the beaux appears;
His eyes through wrinkled corners cast their rays;
Still he bows graceful, still soft things he says:
And still rememb'ring that he once was young,
He strains his crippled knees, and struts along.
The room he enter'd smiling, which bespoke
Some worn-out compliment, or thread-bare joke
(For not perceiving loss of parts, he yet
Grasps at the shade of his departed wit.)
“How does your Grace? I hope I see you well?
“What a prodigious deal of rain has fell!
“Will the sun never let us see his face?
“But who can ever want a sun that sees your Grace?
Who serv'd through all the glorious wars in Flanders;
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Loving to act the steady friendly part:
None led through youth a gayer life than he,
Cheerful in converse, smart in repartee.
Sweet was his night, and joyful was his day,
He din'd with Walpole, and with Oldfield lay;
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And in narration he's extremely long;
Exact in circumstance, and nice in dates,
On every subject he his tale relates.
If you name one of Marlbro's ten campaigns,
He tells you its whole history for your pains:
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As long in telling as it was in fighting:
His old desire to please is still express'd;
His hat's well cock'd, his periwig's well dress'd:
He rolls his stockings still, white gloves he wears,
And in the boxes with the beaux appears;
His eyes through wrinkled corners cast their rays;
Still he bows graceful, still soft things he says:
And still rememb'ring that he once was young,
He strains his crippled knees, and struts along.
The room he enter'd smiling, which bespoke
Some worn-out compliment, or thread-bare joke
(For not perceiving loss of parts, he yet
Grasps at the shade of his departed wit.)
“How does your Grace? I hope I see you well?
“What a prodigious deal of rain has fell!
“Will the sun never let us see his face?
“But who can ever want a sun that sees your Grace?
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“Your servant, Sir—but see what I have got!
“Isn't it a prodigious charming pot?
“And a'n't you vastly glad we make them here?
“For Dicky got it out of Staffordshire.
“See how the charming vine twines all about!
“Lord! what a handle! Jesus! what a spout!
“And that old Pagog, and that charming child!
“If Lady Townsend saw them, she'd be wild!”
“Isn't it a prodigious charming pot?
“And a'n't you vastly glad we make them here?
“For Dicky got it out of Staffordshire.
“See how the charming vine twines all about!
“Lord! what a handle! Jesus! what a spout!
“And that old Pagog, and that charming child!
“If Lady Townsend saw them, she'd be wild!”
To this the Gen'ral: “Madam, who would not?
“Lord! where could Mr. Bateman find this pot?
“Dear Dicky, cou'dn't you get one for me?
“I want some useful china mightily;
“Two jars, two beakers, and a pot pourri.”
“Lord! where could Mr. Bateman find this pot?
“Dear Dicky, cou'dn't you get one for me?
“I want some useful china mightily;
“Two jars, two beakers, and a pot pourri.”
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“Oh, Mr. Churchill, where d'ye think I've been?
“At Margus's, and there such fire-works seen,
“So very pretty, charming, odd and new;
“And, I assure you, they're right Indian too!
“I've bought them all, there's not one left in town;
“And if you were to see them, you would own
“You never saw such fire-works any where.”
—“Oh, Madam, I must beg your pardon there,”
The Gen'ral cry'd, “for—'twas in the year ten;
“No, let me recollect, it was not then;
“'Twas in the year eight, I think, for then we lay
“Encamp'd, with all the army, near Cambray—
“Yes, yes, I'm sure I'm right by one event,
“We supp'd together in Cadogan's tent
“Palmes, Meredith, Lumley, and poor George Grove,
“And merrily the bumpers round we drove;
“To Marlbro's health we drank confounded hard;
“For he'd just beat the French at Oudenarde;
“And Lord Cadogan then had got, by chance,
“The best champaign that ever came from France;
“And 'twas no wonder that it was so good,
“For some dragoons had seized it on the road;
“And they had heard from those they took it from,
“It was design'd a present for Vendôme.
“So we—” But see, another Charles's face
Cuts short the Gen'ral, and relieves her Grace.
“At Margus's, and there such fire-works seen,
“So very pretty, charming, odd and new;
“And, I assure you, they're right Indian too!
“I've bought them all, there's not one left in town;
“And if you were to see them, you would own
“You never saw such fire-works any where.”
—“Oh, Madam, I must beg your pardon there,”
The Gen'ral cry'd, “for—'twas in the year ten;
“No, let me recollect, it was not then;
“'Twas in the year eight, I think, for then we lay
“Encamp'd, with all the army, near Cambray—
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“We supp'd together in Cadogan's tent
“Palmes, Meredith, Lumley, and poor George Grove,
“And merrily the bumpers round we drove;
“To Marlbro's health we drank confounded hard;
“For he'd just beat the French at Oudenarde;
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“The best champaign that ever came from France;
“And 'twas no wonder that it was so good,
“For some dragoons had seized it on the road;
“And they had heard from those they took it from,
“It was design'd a present for Vendôme.
“So we—” But see, another Charles's face
Cuts short the Gen'ral, and relieves her Grace.
So, when one crop-sick parson in a dose,
Is reading morning-service through his nose,
Another, in the pulpit, straight appears,
Claiming the tir'd-out congregation's ears,
And with a duller sermon ends their pray'rs.
For this old Charles is full as dull as t'other,
Bævius to Mævius was not more a brother;
From two defects his talk no joy affords,
From want of matter, and from want of words.
Is reading morning-service through his nose,
Another, in the pulpit, straight appears,
Claiming the tir'd-out congregation's ears,
And with a duller sermon ends their pray'rs.
For this old Charles is full as dull as t'other,
Bævius to Mævius was not more a brother;
From two defects his talk no joy affords,
From want of matter, and from want of words.
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“I hope,” says he, “your Grace is well to day,
“And caught no cold by yenturing to the play!”
“Oh, Sir, I'm mighty well—won't you sit down?
“Pray, Mr. Stanhope, what's the news in town?”
“And caught no cold by yenturing to the play!”
“Oh, Sir, I'm mighty well—won't you sit down?
“Pray, Mr. Stanhope, what's the news in town?”
“Madam, I know of none; but I'm just come
“From seeing a curiosity at home:
“'Twas sent to Martin Folkes, as being rare,
“And he and Desaguliers brought it there:
“It's call'd a Polypus.”—“What's that?”—A creature,
“The wonderful'st of all the works of nature:
“Hither it came from Holland, where 'twas caught
“(I should not say it came, for it was brought);
“To-morrow we're to have it at Crane-court,
“And 'tis a reptile of so strange a sort,
“That if 'tis cut in two, it is not dead;
“Its head shoots out a tail, its tail a head;
“Take out its middle, and observe its ends,
“Here a head rises, there a tail descends;
“Or cut off any part that you desire,
“That part extends, and makes itself entire:
“But what it feeds on still remains a doubt,
“Or how it generates, is not found out:
“But at our Board, to-morrow, 'twill appear,
“And then 'twill be consider'd and made clear,
“For all the learned body will be there.”
“From seeing a curiosity at home:
“'Twas sent to Martin Folkes, as being rare,
“And he and Desaguliers brought it there:
“It's call'd a Polypus.”—“What's that?”—A creature,
“The wonderful'st of all the works of nature:
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“(I should not say it came, for it was brought);
“To-morrow we're to have it at Crane-court,
“And 'tis a reptile of so strange a sort,
“That if 'tis cut in two, it is not dead;
“Its head shoots out a tail, its tail a head;
“Take out its middle, and observe its ends,
“Here a head rises, there a tail descends;
“Or cut off any part that you desire,
“That part extends, and makes itself entire:
“But what it feeds on still remains a doubt,
“Or how it generates, is not found out:
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“And then 'twill be consider'd and made clear,
“For all the learned body will be there.”
“Lord, I must see it, or I'm undone,”
The Duchess cry'd, “pray can't you get me one?
“I never heard of such a thing before,
“I long to cut it and make fifty more;
“I'd have a cage made up in taste for mine,
“And, Dicky—you shall give me a design.”
The Duchess cry'd, “pray can't you get me one?
“I never heard of such a thing before,
“I long to cut it and make fifty more;
“I'd have a cage made up in taste for mine,
“And, Dicky—you shall give me a design.”
But here the Gen'ral to a yawn gave way,
And Stanhope had not one more word to say,
So stretch'd on easy chairs in apathy they lay;
And, on each side the goddess they ador'd,
One Charles sat speechless, and the other snor'd.
When chaste Susanna's all-subduing charms
Made two old lovers languish for her arms,
Soon as her eyes had thaw'd the frost of age,
Their passions mounted into lustful rage;
With brutal violence they attack'd their prey,
And almost bore the wish'd-for prize away.
And Stanhope had not one more word to say,
So stretch'd on easy chairs in apathy they lay;
And, on each side the goddess they ador'd,
One Charles sat speechless, and the other snor'd.
When chaste Susanna's all-subduing charms
Made two old lovers languish for her arms,
Soon as her eyes had thaw'd the frost of age,
Their passions mounted into lustful rage;
85
And almost bore the wish'd-for prize away.
Hail happy Duchess! 'twixt two Elders plac'd,
Whose passions brutal lust has ne'er disgrac'd;
No warm expressions make your blushes rise,
No ravish'd kiss shoots light'ning from your eyes:
Let them but visit you, they ask no more,
Guiltless they'll gaze, and innocent adore.
Whose passions brutal lust has ne'er disgrac'd;
No warm expressions make your blushes rise,
No ravish'd kiss shoots light'ning from your eyes:
Let them but visit you, they ask no more,
Guiltless they'll gaze, and innocent adore.
But hark! a louder knock than all before—
“Lord!” says her Grace, “they'll thunder down my door!”
Into the room see sweating Lovel break,
The Duchess rises, and the Elders wake:
Lovel,—the oddest character in town;
A lover, statesman, connoisseur, buffoon:
Extract him well, this is his quintessence,
Much folly, but more cunning, and some sense;
To neither party in his heart inclin'd,
He steer'd twixt both with politics refin'd,
Voted with Walpole, and with Pultney din'd.
“Lord!” says her Grace, “they'll thunder down my door!”
Into the room see sweating Lovel break,
The Duchess rises, and the Elders wake:
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A lover, statesman, connoisseur, buffoon:
Extract him well, this is his quintessence,
Much folly, but more cunning, and some sense;
To neither party in his heart inclin'd,
He steer'd twixt both with politics refin'd,
Voted with Walpole, and with Pultney din'd.
His lordship makes a bow, and takes his seat,
Then opens with preliminary chat:
“I'm glad to see your Grace—the Gen'ral too—
“Old Charles, how is it? Dicky! how d'ye do?
“Madam, I hear that you were at the play,
“You did not say one word on't yesterday;
“I went, who'd no engagement any where,
“To th' Opera.”—“Were there many people there?”
The Duchess cry'd.—“Yes, Madam, a great many,”
Says Lovel—“There were Chesterfield and Fanny
“In that eternal whisper which begun
“Ten years ago, and never will be done;
“For tho' you know he sees her ev'ry day,
“Still he has ever something new to say;
“There's nothing upon earth so hard to me,
“As keeping up discourse eternally;
“He never lets the conversation fall,
“And I'm sure Fanny can't keep up the ball;
“I saw that her replies were never long,
“And with her eyes she answer'd for her tongue:
“Poor I! am forc'd to keep my distance now,
“She won't ev'n curt'sy if I make a bow.”
Then opens with preliminary chat:
“I'm glad to see your Grace—the Gen'ral too—
“Old Charles, how is it? Dicky! how d'ye do?
“Madam, I hear that you were at the play,
“You did not say one word on't yesterday;
“I went, who'd no engagement any where,
“To th' Opera.”—“Were there many people there?”
The Duchess cry'd.—“Yes, Madam, a great many,”
Says Lovel—“There were Chesterfield and Fanny
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“Ten years ago, and never will be done;
“For tho' you know he sees her ev'ry day,
“Still he has ever something new to say;
“There's nothing upon earth so hard to me,
“As keeping up discourse eternally;
“He never lets the conversation fall,
“And I'm sure Fanny can't keep up the ball;
“I saw that her replies were never long,
“And with her eyes she answer'd for her tongue:
“Poor I! am forc'd to keep my distance now,
“She won't ev'n curt'sy if I make a bow.”
“Why, things are strangely chang'd,” the Gen'ral cry'd;
“Ay, fortune de la guerre,” my lord reply'd:
“But you and I, Charles, hardly find things so,
“As we both did some twenty years ago.”
“And take off twenty years,” reply'd her Grace,
“'Twould do no harm to Lady Fanny's face;
“My Lord, you never see her but at night,
“By th' advantageous help of candle-light:
“Drest out with ev'ry aid that is adorning,—
“Oh, if your lordship saw her in a morning!
“It is no more than Fanny once so fair;
“No roses bloom, no lilies flourish there:
“But hollow eyes, and pale and faded cheek,
“Repentance, love, and disappointment speak.”
“Ay, fortune de la guerre,” my lord reply'd:
“But you and I, Charles, hardly find things so,
“As we both did some twenty years ago.”
“And take off twenty years,” reply'd her Grace,
“'Twould do no harm to Lady Fanny's face;
“My Lord, you never see her but at night,
“By th' advantageous help of candle-light:
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“Oh, if your lordship saw her in a morning!
“It is no more than Fanny once so fair;
“No roses bloom, no lilies flourish there:
“But hollow eyes, and pale and faded cheek,
“Repentance, love, and disappointment speak.”
The Gen'ral found a lucky minute now
To speak—“Ah, Ma'am, you did not know Miss Howe;”
I'll tell you all her history, he cry'd—
At this Charles Stanhope gap'd extremely wide;
Poor Dicky sat on thorns, her Grace turn'd pale,
And Lovel trembl'd at th' impending tale.
“Poor girl! faith she was once extremely fair,
“Till worn by love, and tortur'd by despair:
“Her pining looks betray'd her inward smart;
“Her breaking face foretold her breaking heart.
“At Leicester-house her passion first began,
“And Nanty Lowther was a pretty man:
“But when the Princess did to Kew remove,
“She could not bear the absence of her love;
“Away she flew.”—But here the clock struck three;
So did some pitying deity decree;
The Duchess rings to dress—and see her maid
With all the apparatus for her head;
Th' adoring circle can no longer stay,
Each rises, bows, and goes his different way.
To ancient Boothby's ancient Churchill's flown;
Home to his dinner Stanhope goes alone:
Dicky to fast with her, her Grace invites,
And Lovell's coachman drives unbid to White's.
To speak—“Ah, Ma'am, you did not know Miss Howe;”
I'll tell you all her history, he cry'd—
At this Charles Stanhope gap'd extremely wide;
Poor Dicky sat on thorns, her Grace turn'd pale,
And Lovel trembl'd at th' impending tale.
“Poor girl! faith she was once extremely fair,
“Till worn by love, and tortur'd by despair:
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“Her breaking face foretold her breaking heart.
“At Leicester-house her passion first began,
“And Nanty Lowther was a pretty man:
“But when the Princess did to Kew remove,
“She could not bear the absence of her love;
“Away she flew.”—But here the clock struck three;
So did some pitying deity decree;
The Duchess rings to dress—and see her maid
With all the apparatus for her head;
Th' adoring circle can no longer stay,
Each rises, bows, and goes his different way.
To ancient Boothby's ancient Churchill's flown;
Home to his dinner Stanhope goes alone:
Dicky to fast with her, her Grace invites,
And Lovell's coachman drives unbid to White's.
| The Works of the Right Honourable Sir Chas. Hanbury Williams | |