parcel of insolent, ungrateful rascals. I suppose I told you in
my last, how they sent an address to the Duke of Ormond, and a letter to
Southwell, to call on me for the papers, after the thing was over; but
they had not received my letter, though the Archbishop might, by what
I writ to him, have expected it would be done. Well, there is an end of
that; and in a little time the Queen will send them notice, etc. And
so the methods will be settled; and then I shall think of returning,
although the baseness of those bishops makes me love Ireland less than I
did.
28. Lord Halifax sent to invite me to dinner; where I stayed till six,
and crossed him in all his Whig talk, and made him often come over to
me. I know he makes court to the new men, although he affects to talk
like a Whig. I had a letter to-day from the Bishop of Clogher; but
I writ to him lately, that I would obey his commands to the Duke of
Ormond. He says I bid him read the London "Shaver," and that you both
swore it was "Shaver," and not "Shower."(6) You all lie, and you are
puppies, and can't read Presto's hand. The Bishop is out entirely in his
conjectures of my share in the Tatlers.--I have other things to mind,
and of much greater importance;(7) else I have little to do to be
acquainted with a new Ministry, who consider me a little more than Irish
bishops do.
29. Now for your saucy, good dear letter: let me see, what does it
say? come then. I dined to-day with Ford, and went home early; he
debauched(8) me to his chamber again with a bottle of wine till twelve:
so good-night. I cannot write an answer now, you rogues.
30. To-day I have been visiting, which I had long neglected; and I dined
with Mrs. Barton alone; and sauntered at the Coffee-house till past
eight, and have been busy till eleven, and now I'll answer your letter,
saucebox. Well, let me see now again. My wax candle's almost out, but
however I'll begin. Well then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto;
what can you say to MD's letter? Make haste, have done with your
preambles--Why, I say I am glad you are so often abroad; your mother
thinks it is want of exercise hurts you, and so do I. (She called here
to-night, but I was not within, that's by the bye.) Sure you do not
deceive me, Stella, when you say you are in better health than you were
these three weeks; for Dr. Raymond told me yesterday, that Smyth of the
Blind Quay had been telling Mr. Leigh that he left you extremely ill;
and in short,
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