Part 9

_Lady Smart._ Why, ’tis my Lord’s; for they say, a marry’d Woman has nothing of her own, but her Wedding-Ring and her Hair-Lace: But if Women had been the Law-Makers, it would have been better.

_Col._ This Watch seems to be quite new.

_Lady Smart._ No, Sir; it has been Twenty Years in my Lord’s Family; but _Quare_ put a new Case and Dial-Plate to it.

_Neverout._ Why, that’s for all the World like the Man who swore he kept the same Knife forty Years, only he sometimes changed the Haft, and sometimes the Blade.

_Ld. Smart._ Well, _Tom_, to give the Devil his Due, thou art a right Woman’s Man.

_Col._ Odd-so! I have broke the Hinge of my Snuff-box; I’m undone beside the Loss.

_Miss._ Alack-a-day, Colonel! I vow I had rather have found Forty Shillings.

_Neverout._ Why, Colonel; all that I can say to comfort you, is, that you must mend it with a new one.

[Miss _laughs_.

_Col._ What, Miss! you can’t laugh, but you must shew your Teeth.

_Miss._ I’m sure you shew your Teeth when you can’t bite: Well, thus it must be, if we sell Ale.

_Neverout._ Miss, you smell very sweet; I hope you don’t carry Perfumes.

_Miss._ Perfumes! No, Sir; I’d have you to know, it is nothing but the Grain of my Skin.

_Col._ _Tom_, you have a good Nose to make a poor Man’s Sow.

_Ld. Sparkish._ So, Ladies and Gentlemen, methinks you are very witty upon one another: Come, box it about; ’twill come to my Father at last.

_Col._ Why, my Lord, you see Miss has no Mercy; I wish she were marry’d; but I doubt, the grey Mare would prove the better Horse.

_Miss._ Well, God forgive you for that Wish.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Never fear him, Miss.

_Miss._ What, my Lord, do you think I was born in a Wood, to be afraid of an Owl?

_Ld. Smart._ What have you to say to that, Colonel?

_Neverout._ O my Lord, my Friend the Colonel scorns to set his Wit against a Child.

_Miss._ Scornful Dogs will eat dirty Puddens.

_Col._ Well, Miss; they say, a Woman’s Tongue is the last thing about her that dies; therefore let’s kiss and Friends.

_Miss._ Hands off! that’s Meat for your Master.

_Ld. Sparkish._ Faith, Colonel, you are for Ale and Cakes: But after all, Miss, you are too severe; you would not meddle with your Match.

_Miss._ All they can say goes in at one Ear, and out at t’other for me, I can assure you: Only I wish they would be quiet, and let me drink my Tea.

_Neverout._ What! I warrant you think all is lost, that goes beside your own Mouth.

_Miss._ Pray, Mr. _Neverout_, hold your Tongue for once, if it be possible; one would think, you were a Woman in Man’s Cloaths, by your prating.

_Neverout._ No, Miss; it is not handsome to see one hold one’s Tongue: Besides, I should slobber my Fingers.

_Col._ Miss, did you never hear, that Three Women and a Goose are enough to make a Market?

_Miss._ I’m sure, if Mr. _Neverout_ or You were among them, it would make a Fair.

[Footman _comes in_.

_Lady Smart._ Here, take away the Tea-table, and bring up Candles.

_Lady Answ._ O Madam, no Candles yet, I beseech you; don’t let us burn Day-Light.

_Neverout._ I dare swear, Miss, for her Part, will never burn Day-Light, if she can help it.

_Miss._ Lord, Mr. _Neverout_, one can’t hear one’s own Ears for you.

_Lady Smart._ Indeed, Madam, it is Blind-Man’s Holiday; we shall soon be all of a Colour.

_Neverout._ Why, then, Miss, we may kiss where we like best.

_Miss._ Fogh! these Men talk of nothing but kissing.

[_She spits._

_Neverout._ What, Miss, does it make your Mouth water?

_Lady Smart._ It is as good be in the Dark as without Light; therefore pray bring in Candles: They say, Women and Linen shew best by Candle-Light: Come, Gentlemen, are you for a Party at Quadrille?

_Col._ I’ll make one with you three Ladies.

_Lady Answ._ I’ll sit down, and be a Stander-by.

_Lady Smart._ [_to Lady Answ._] Madam, does your Ladyship never play?

_Col._ Yes; I suppose her Ladyship plays sometimes for an Egg at _Easter_.

_Neverout._ Ay; and a Kiss at _Christmas_.

_Lady Answ._ Come, Mr. _Neverout_; hold your Tongue, and mind your Knitting.

_Neverout._ With all my Heart; kiss my Wife, and welcome.

[_The_ Colonel, _Mr._ Neverout, _Lady_ Smart _and_ Miss _go to Quadrille, and sit till Three in the Morning_.

[_They rise from Cards._]

_Lady Smart._ Well, Miss, you’ll have a sad Husband, you have such good Luck at Cards.

_Neverout._ Indeed, Miss, you dealt me sad Cards; if you deal so ill by your Friends, what will you do with your Enemies?

_Lady Answ._ I’m sure ’tis time for honest Folks to be a-bed.

_Miss._ Indeed my Eyes draws Straw.

[_She’s almost asleep._

_Neverout._ Why, Miss, if you fall asleep, somebody may get a Pair of Gloves.

_Col._ I’m going to the Land of _Nod_.

_Neverout._ Faith, I’m for _Bedfordshire_.

_Lady Smart._ I’m sure I shall sleep without rocking.

_Neverout._ Miss, I hope you’ll dream of your Sweetheart.

_Miss._ Oh, no doubt of it: I believe I shan’t be able to sleep for dreaming of him.

_Col._ [_to Miss._] Madam, shall I have the Honour to escort you?

_Miss._ No, Colonel, I thank you; my Mamma has sent her Chair and Footmen. Well, my Lady _Smart_, I’ll give you Revenge whenever you please.

[Footman _comes in_.

_Footman._ Madam, the Chairs are waiting.

[_They all take their Chairs, and go off._

FINIS.

ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES.

PAGE 5, l. 1. 1695.—This date, and the previous “more than forty years past,” are of course adjusted to the date of the book’s appearance. See Introduction for its probable chronology.

PAGE 5, l. 18. For “because” I am half inclined to read “became”—a very likely misprint.

PAGE 6, ll. 4-10. “_Twelve ... Sixteen._”—This would bring us to 1723, which may or may not mark the date of a version of the “Conversation.” The first “Twelve” would almost exactly coincide with the “Essay on Conversation” referred to above.

PAGE 12, l. 18. “_Isaac the Dancing-Master._”—Called by Steele in “Tatler,” No. 34, “my namesake Isaac.” He is best known by Soame Jenyns’ couplet:—

“And Isaac’s rigadoon shall live as long As Raphael’s painting or as Virgil’s song.”

He was, as became his profession, a Frenchman. Southey refers to him in “The Doctor.”

PAGE 16, l. 6. “_Comedies and other fantastick Writings._”—Where they will be found, as the ingenious Mr. Wagstaff says, “strewed here and there.”

PAGES 16, 17.—“_Graham. D. of R. E. of E. Lord and Lady H._”—I do not know that attempts at identifying these shadowy personages would be very wise. But the date assigned to the Colonel is one of the marks of long incubation. “Towards the end” of Charles II.’s reign would be about 1684. A fine gentleman of that day might very well have been Mr. Wagstaff’s “companion” had the latter written in 1710—less well had he written a quarter of a century later.

PAGE 18, l. 24.—Swift, like a good Tory and Churchman, never forgave Burnet.

PAGE 21, l. 2. “_Selling of Bargains_” is the returning of a coarse answer to a question or other remark. So in Dorset’s charming poem about “This Bess of my heart, this Bess of my soul.”

PAGE 24, l. 26. “_Great Ornaments of Style_,” or, as it hath been put otherwise, “_a grand set-off to conversation_.”—Observe that in these passages as to Free-Thinking and Oaths, Swift maintains his invariable attitude as to profanity.

PAGE 25, last line. “_Poet._”—I know him not, if he ever existed save as a maggot of Swift’s brain.

PAGE 26, l. 13. “_Sir John Perrot._”—Deputy of Ireland and a stout soldier, but an unlucky politician. He died in the Tower, where he is not unlikely to have had leisure and reason to perfect himself in commination.

PAGE 31, l. 16. “_Lilly._”—The Latin grammarian, of course, not the astrologer.

PAGE 32, l. 12. “_e’n’t_” I presume to be identical with _ain’t_.

PAGE 36, l. 21. It may seem strange that Mr. Wagstaff, who loves not books and scholars, should refer to a grave philosopher. But fine gentlemen in his youth had to know or seem to know their Hobbes.

PAGE 38, l. 26. “_Please._”—_sic_ in orig.

PAGE 41.—In this page Swift strikes in with his friends against the “dunces.” One may suspect that Tom Brown was in the first draught, and perhaps Dennis, Ward and Gildon being added later.

PAGE 42, l. 6.—Ozell, the translator of Rabelais. Stevens I do not know or have forgotten, and the “Dunciad” knows him not.

PAGE 44, l. 26. “_The Craftsman._”—This must be one of the latest additions, the “Craftsman” being the organ of Pulteney and the Opposition in the great Walpolian battle.

PAGE 46, ll. 11, 17. “_Another for Alexander!_”

PAGE 50, l. 21. “_Those of Sir Isaac._”—Mr. Craik and others have noticed that Swift’s grammar, especially in unrevised pieces, is not always impeccable. But this, like other things in this Introduction, is clearly writ in character, the character of the more polite than pedantic Wagstaff.

PAGE 56, l. 26. “_Wit at Will._”—Readers of the minor and even of the greater writers of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries will remember the interminable jingles and plays on these two words wherever they could be introduced. The phrase “Wit at will” survived most of its companions as a catchword.

PAGE 58, l. 3. “_Queen Elizabeth’s dead._”—A minute philosopher might be pleased with the inquiry when Queen Anne superseded her gracious predecessor in this phrase. Naturally that time had not come when the “Conversation” was first planned.

PAGE 59, l. 2. “_Push-pin._”—Allusions to this old children’s game are very common in the seventeenth century; rare, I think, in the eighteenth.

PAGE 64, l. 20. “_Vardi._”—See Introduction, p. 32, where the form is “Verdi.”

PAGE 65, l. 28. “_Lob’s pound_” means an inextricable difficulty. In Dekker’s paraphrase of the “Quinze Joyes du Mariage,” it is used to render the French _dans la nasse_.

PAGE 72, l. 1. I do not understand “_Map-sticks_.”

PAGE 76, ll. 3, 4. “_Cooking._”—_I.e._ (as I suppose), putting the bread-and-butter in the tea. I believe this atrocious practice is not absolutely obsolete yet.

PAGE 76, last line but one. “_Head for the washing._”—I think this is quite dead in English; _laver la tête_ is of course still excellent French for to scold or rate.

PAGE 79, l. 3. “_A Lord._”—Lord Grimstone, whose production made the wits merry for a long time. He is Pope’s “booby Lord,” and this absurd play (which, however, he is said to have written at the age of 13), was reprinted in his despite by the Duchess of Marlborough, with whom he had an election quarrel. _Lady Sparkish_ is in orig., but is probably a slip for Lady Answerall.

PAGE 82, l. 23. “_The Lord of the Lord knows what._”—A peerage revived with slightly altered title by Peter Simple’s shipmates in favour of “the Lord Nozoo.”

PAGE 103, l. 4. “_Ld. Smart._”—Erratum for “Ld. Sparkish.”

PAGE 103, l. 13. “_Tantiny Pig._”—The pig usually assigned as companion to St. Anthony.

PAGE 105, l. 26. “_Poles._”—St. Paul’s.

PAGE 109, l. 4. “_Jommetry._”—See Introduction.

PAGE 110, l. 7.—I do not know the origin of Miss’s catchword. Julia, the heroine of Dryden’s “Amboyna,” had used it beforehand.

PAGE 111, l. 25. “_Tansy_” has two senses, a plant and a sort of custard. The reader may choose which suits the circumstances best for metaphorical explanation.

PAGE 112, l. 11. “_Otomy_,” for “anatomy,” “skeleton.”

PAGE 114, l. 17. “_Ld. Smart_” again for “Ld. Sparkish;” at the foot of the next page for “_Lady_ Smart.”

PAGE 117, last line. “_Smoke_,” “look at;” later, “twig.”

PAGE 118, l. 13. “_Lady Sparkish_,” probably for “Lady Smart,” as being hostess.

PAGE 121, last line. “_Inkle._”—Ribbon or tape.

PAGE 129, l. 8. Scott has borrowed this vigorous protest of Miss in one of his private letters.

PAGE 131, l. 7. “_Ld. Sparkish_” should evidently be “Ld. Smart.”

PAGE 135, l. 14. “_Kept a Corner for a Venison Pasty._”—Which Dr. Goldsmith remembered in immortal verse.

PAGE 140, l. 12. I do not know whether this speech was meant for Lord Sparkish or Lady Answerall.

PAGE 143, ll. 1, 3. An unnecessary double entry, but right in the attribution.

PAGE 145, l. 9. “_In my Tip_,” “as I am drinking.”

PAGE 161, l. 4. “_Weily rosten_,” should probably be “_b_rosten,” _i.e._, “well-nigh burst.”

PAGE 162, l. 9. Lord Smart might make this speech; but from the answer it would seem to be his Lady’s.

PAGE 165, l. 13.—I don’t know whether Swift, who never forgot his feud with “Cousin Dryden,” was indulging in a half-gird at “The corruption of a poet is the generation of a critic.”

PAGE 176, l. 8. “_Concealer._”—A brilliant pun on “Counsellor.”

PAGE 181, l. 24. “_A Bone in my Leg._”—This odd phrase for a peculiar cramp in the leg is not dead yet.

PAGE 183, l. 21. “_Quare._”—David Q., died in 1724. He had invented repeaters, and throughout the eighteenth century was what Tompion was later among watchmakers, what Joe Manton was long among gunmakers, a name to conjure with and to quote.

PAGE 184, l. 24. “_Box it about; ’twill come to my Father._”—The famous Jacobite cant-phrase for breeding disturbance in hopes of a fresh Revolution.

CHISWICK PRESS:—CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.