LETTER CCLXXXVI. MR PRIOR TO DR SWIFT. SIR, HAV * Weftminster, Dec. 8, 1719. AVING spent part of my Summer very agreeably in Cambridge-fhire, with dear Lord Harley, I am returned without him to my own palace in Duke-ftreet, whence I endeavour to exclude all the tumult and noife of the neighbouring Court of Requests, and to live, aut nihil agendo, aut aliud agendo, till he comes to town. But there is worse than this yet. I have treated Lady Harriot at Cambridge. Good God! a Fellow of a College treat!-and fpoke verfes to her in a gown and cap! What! the plenipotentiary fo far concerned in the damn'd peace at Utrecht the man, that makes up half the volume of terfe profe, that makes up the report of the committee, fpeaking verfes! Sic eft, homo fum; and am not afhamed to fend those very verses to one who can make much better. And now let me afk you, How you do? and what you do? How your Irish country air agrees with * VOL. XV. X you, Lady Harriot Harley, only daughter of Edward Lord Harley, and now Duchefs Dowager of Portland. They are printed in what is called by the editor Samuel Humphreys, Efq; the third volume of Prior's Works; and are intitled, Verfes fpoken to Lady Henrietta Cavendish Holles Harley, in the Library of St John's College, Cambridge, Nov. 9, 1719. you, and when you intend to take any English country air? In the Spring, I will meet you where you will, and go with you where you will; but I believe the best rendezvous will be Duke-street, and the faireft field for action Wimple *; the Lords of both thofe feats agreeing, that no man will be more welcome to either than yourself. It is many months fince the complaints of my fubfcribers are redreffed, and that they have ceased to call the bookfeller a blockhead, by tranf ferring that title to the author. We have not heard from Mr Hyde; but expect, that at his leifure, he will fignify to Tonfon, what may relate to that whole matter, as to the fecond fubfcriptions. In the mean time, I hope the books have been delivered without any mistake; and fhall only repeat to you, that I am fenfible of the trouble my poetry has given you, and return you my thanks in plain profe. Earl of Oxford, pro more fuo, went late into the country, and continues there ftill. Our friends are all well; and fo am I, nifi cum pituita molefta eft; which is at this prefent writing, and will continue fo all the Winter. So, with weak lungs, and a very good heart, I remain always, Sir, your most obedient humble fervant, M. PRIOR. P. S. Service to Matthew Penny feather, and all friends. Adieu. * The feat of Lord Harley. LET LETTER CCLXXXVII. DR SWIFT TO DR SHERIDAN. SIR, IT Dec. 14, 1719, Nine at Night. Tis impoffible to know by your letter, whether the wine is to be bottled to-morrow, or no. If it be, or be not, why did not you in plain, English tell us fo? For my part, it was by mere chance I came to fit with the Ladies † this night. t And if they had not told me there was a letter from you, and your man Alexander had not gone, and come back from the deanry, and the boy here had not been fent to let Alexander know I was here, I fhould have miffed the letter outright. Truely I don't know who's bound to be fending for corks to ftop your bottles, with a vengeance. Make a page of your own age, and fend your man Alexander to buy corks, for Saunders already has gone above ten jaunts. Mrs Dingley and Mrs Johnson fay, truly they don't care for your wife's company, though they X 2 like † Mrs Dingley and Mrs Johnson, who lived at a little dif ftance from the deanry. Swift was refident at the deanry when this letter was written, of which every paragraph ends with a rhyme. And, Sheridan was at his country-houfe, called Quilca, in the county of Cavan, about forty miles from Dublin. Hawkef. like your wine; but they had rather have it at their own houfe, to drink in quiet. However, they own it is very civil in Mr Sheridan to make the offer; and they cannot deny it. I wish Alexander fafe at St Catharine's tonight, with all my heart and foul, upon my word and honour. But I think it base in you, to fend a poor fellow out fo late, at this time of the year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr Conna. I would prefent my humble fervice to my Lady Mountcafhel; but truly I thought he would have made advances to have been acquainted with me, as fhe pretended. But now I can write no more, for you fec plainly my paper is ended. P. S. I wifh when you prated, Your letter you dated, Much plague it created, Like a bear to be baited; Your man is bleated, The cafe I have ftated, And me you have cheated. My ftables unfleated, Come With you and your bottling, (Rule 34 But I fee the fume total, We fhall ne'er have one bottle;, The long and the short, We fhall not have a quart. I wish you would fign't, |