sell me a pair of stockings,
that will draw over these? I can cut off the feet, if they won't go into
my shoes.

He could let me have a pair of coarse, but clean, stirrup stockings, if I
pleased.

The best in the world for the purpose.

He fetch'd them. Will. drew them on; and my legs then made a good gouty
appearance.

The good woman smiling, wished me success; and so did the landlord. And
as thou knowest that I am not a bad mimic, I took a cane, which I
borrowed of the landlord, and stooped in the shoulders to a quarter of a
foot less height, and stumped away cross to the bowling-green, to
practise a little the hobbling gait of a gouty man.--The landlady
whispered her husband, as Will. tells me, He's a good one, I warrant him
--I dare say the fault lies not at all of one side. While mine host
replied, That I was so lively and so good-natured a gentleman, that he
did not know who could be angry with me, do what I would. A sensible
fellow!--I wish my charmer were of the same opinion.

And now I am going to try if I can't agree with goody Moore for lodgings
and other conveniencies for my sick wife.

'Wife, Lovelace?' methinks thou interrogatest.

Yes, wife, for who knows what cautions the dear fugitive may have given
in apprehension of me?

'But has goody Moore any other lodgings to let?'

Yes, yes; I have taken care of that; and find that she has just such
conveniencies as I want. And I know that my wife will like them. For,
although married, I can do every thing I please; and that's a bold word,
you know. But had she only a garret to let, I would have liked it; and
been a poor author afraid of arrests, and made that my place of refuge;
yet would have made shift to pay beforehand for what I had. I can suit
myself to any condition, that's my comfort.

***

The widow Moore returned! say you?--Down, down, flutterer!--This
impertinent heart is more troublesome to me than my conscience, I think.
--I shall be obliged to hoarsen my voice, and roughen my character, to
keep up with its puppily dancings.

But let me see, shall I be angry or pleased when I am admitted to my
beloved's presence?

Angry to be sure.--Has she not broken her word with me?--At a time too
when I was meditating to do her grateful justice?--And is not breach of
word a dreadful crime in good folks?--I have ever been for forming my
judgment of the nature of things and actions, not so much from what they
are in themselves, as fro