Reply to an Invitation to Dinner 105

CHORUS OF VIRGINS

Cyrus comes, the world redressing,
Love and pleasure in his train;
Comes to heighten every blessing,
Comes to soften every pain.

CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS

Hail to him with mercy reigning,
Skill'd in every peaceful art;
Who, from bonds our limbs unchaining,
Only binds the willing heart.

LAST CHORUS

But chief to Thee, our God, our Father, Friend,
Let praise be given to all eternity;
O Thou, without beginning, without end-
Let us, and all, begin and end in Thee!

VERSES IN REPLY TO AN INVITATION TO DINNER AT DR. BAKER'S1

"This is a poem! This is a copy of verses!"

YOUR mandate I got,

You may all go to pot;

Had your senses been right,
You'd have sent before night;
As I hope to be saved,
I put off being shaved;
For I could not make bold,
While the matter was cold,
To meddle in suds,

Or to put on my duds;

[Prior first printed this in the Miscellaneous Works of 1837, iv. 132, having obtained it from Major-General Sir H. E. Bunbury, Bart., son of H. W. Bunbury, the artist. (See note 2 to p. 107.)]

106 Reply to an Invitation to Dinner

6

So tell Horneck1 and Nesbitt,2
And Baker and his bit,
And Kauffman 4 beside,
And the Jessamy Bride,5
With the rest of the crew,
The Reynoldses two,
Little Comedy's face,"
And the Captain in lace,8
(By-the-bye you may tell him,
I have something to sell him;
Of use I insist,

When he comes to enlist.

Your worships must know
That a few days ago,
An order went out,

For the foot-guards so stout
To wear tails in high taste,
Twelve inches at least :
Now I've got him a scale
To measure each tail,
To lengthen a short tail,
And a long one to curtail.)--
Yet how can I when vext,
Thus stray from my text?
Tell each other to rue
Your Devonshire crew,
For sending so late
To one of my state.
But 'tis Reynolds's way
From wisdom to stray,
And Angelica's whim
To be frolick like him,

[1 Mrs. Horneck, widow of Captain Kane Horneck.]

[2 Mr. Thrale's brother-in-law.]

[3 Dr. (afterwards Sir) George Baker, Reynolds's doctor.] Angelica Kauffmann, the artist, 1740-1807.]

Mrs. Horneck's younger daughter, Mary.]

[Sir Joshua and his sister.]

Mrs. Horneck's elder daughter, Catherine.

P. 107.)]

[ Captain Charles Horneck, Mrs. Horneck's son.]

(See notes,

But alas! your good worships, how could they be wiser, When both have been spoil'd in to-day's Advertiser ? 1 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

LETTER IN PROSE AND VERSE TO MRS. BUNBURY 2

MADAM,

I read your letter with all that allowance which critical candour could require, but after all find so much to object to, and so much to raise my indignation, that I cannot help giving it a serious answer.

I am not so ignorant, Madam, as not to see there are many sarcasms contained in it, and solecisms also. (Solecism is a word that comes from the town of Soleis in Attica, among the Greeks, built by Solon, and applied as we use the word Kidderminster for curtains from a town also of that name ;-but this is learning you have no taste for !)-I say, Madam, there are sarcasms in it, and solecisms also. But, not to seem an ill-natured critic, I'll take leave to quote your own words, and give you my remarks upon them as they occur. You begin as follows:

"I hope, my good Doctor, you soon will be here,
And your spring-velvet coat very smart will appear,
To open our ball the first day of the year.'

66

Pray, Madam, where did you ever find the epithet "good," applied to the title of Doctor? Had you called me "learned Doctor," or grave Doctor," or noble Doctor," it might be allowable, because they belong to the profession. But, not to cavil at trifles, you talk of

[An allusion to some complimentary verses which appeared in that paper.]

[This letter, "probably written in 1773 or 1774," was first printed by Prior in the Miscellaneous Works, 1837, iv. 148. It was addressed to the "Little Comedy" of p. 106, by this time married to H. W. Bunbury, the artist.]

[Mrs. Bunbury had apparently invited the poet (in rhyme) to spend Christmas at the family seat of Great Barton in Suffolk.]

my "spring-velvet coat," and advise me to wear it the first day in the year,—that is, in the middle of winter !— a spring-velvet in the middle of winter!!! That would be a solecism indeed! and yet, to increase the inconsistence, in another part of your letter you call me a beau. Now, on one side or other, you must be wrong. If I am a beau, I can never think of wearing a springvelvet in winter: and if I am not a beau, why then, that explains itself. But let me go on to your two next strange lines:—

"And bring with you a wig, that is modish and gay,

To dance with the girls that are makers of hay.'

The absurdity of making hay at Christmas you yourself seem sensible of: you say your sister will laugh; and so indeed she well may! The Latins have an expression for a contemptuous sort of laughter, "Naso contemnere adunco"; that is, to laugh with a crooked nose. She may laugh at you in a manner of the ancients if she thinks fit. But now I come to the most extraordinary of all extraordinary propositions, which is, to take your and your sister's advice in playing at loo. The presumption of the offer raises my indignation beyond the bounds of prose; it inspires me at once with verse and resentment. I take advice! and from whom? hear.

First let me suppose, what may shortly be true,
The company set, and the word to be, Loo;

You shall

All smirking, and pleasant, and big with adventure,
And ogling the stake which is fix'd in the centre.

Round and round go the cards, while I inwardly damn
At never once finding a visit from Pam.

I lay down my stake, apparently cool,
While the harpies about me all pocket the pool.
I fret in my gizzard, yet, cautious and sly,
I wish all my friends may be bolder than I:
Yet still they sit snug, not a creature will aim
By losing their money to venture at fame.
"Tis in vain that at niggardly caution I scold,
"Tis in vain that I flatter the brave and the bold:

All play their own way, and they think me an ass,-
"What does Mrs. Bunbury?" "I, Sir? I pass."
"Pray what does Miss Horneck?1 take courage, come
do,"-

"Who, I? let me see, Sir, why I must pass too."
Mr. Bunbury frets, and I fret like the devil,
To see them so cowardly, lucky, and civil.
Yet still I sit snug, and continue to sigh on,
Till made by my losses as bold as a lion,

I venture at all,-while my avarice regards

The whole pool as my own- -"Come, give me five cards."
"Well done!" cry the ladies; "Ah, Doctor, that's good!
The pool's very rich-ah! the Doctor is loo'd! "
Thus foil'd in my courage, on all sides perplex'd,
I ask for advice from the lady that's next :

"Pray, Ma'am, be so good as to give your advice;
Don't you think the best way is to venture for't twice?"
"I advise," cries the lady, "to try it, I own.-
Ah! the Doctor is loo'd! Come, Doctor, put down."
Thus, playing, and playing, I still grow more eager,
And so bold, and so bold, I'm at last a bold beggar.
Now, ladies, I ask, if law-matters you're skill'd in,
Whether crimes such as yours should not come before
Fielding ? 2

For giving advice that is not worth a straw,

May well be call'd picking of pockets in law;

And picking of pockets, with which I now charge ye,
Is, by quinto Elizabeth, Death without Clergy.
What justice, when both to the Old Bailey brought!
By the gods, I'll enjoy it; though 'tis but in thought!
Both are plac'd at the bar, with all proper decorum,
With bunches of fennel, and nosegays before 'em ;
Both cover their faces with mobs and all that;
But the judge bids them, angrily, take off their hat.

[Mary Horneck, see p. 106 and note. She ultimately married Colonel Gwyn, and survived until 1840. Reynolds and Hoppner

both painted her.]

[Sir John Fielding, d. 1780, Henry Fielding's blind half-brother and successor at Bow Street.]

[3 To prevent infection,-a practice dating from the gaol-fever of 1750.]