rth
man, of cheerful, rubicund countenance and, like Gay, inclined to
corpulency. "What about yourself and Mr. Gay? Is there anyone more
conscious of his talents and has done more to foster and encourage them
than you? Who spoke and wrote in higher praise of Will Congreve than
John Dryden?"

"Your argument's just, Arbuthnot," rejoined Pope. "And that's why I
rejoice that the King, his Consort and the Statesman who panders to her
spite and lives only for his own ambition have insulted our friend.
Their taste and their appreciation of letters found their level when
they considered the author of the 'Trivia' and the 'Fables' was
fittingly rewarded by the appointment of 'gentleman usher' to a
princess--a footman's place, forsooth!"

It was too true. George the First was dead, George the Second had
succeeded and with the change of government Gay hoped to obtain the
"sinecure" which would have kept him in comfort to the end of his days.
He was bitterly disappointed. The post bestowed upon him was a
degradation.

"Say no more on that head," exclaimed Gay hastily, "I would forget that
affront."

"But not forgive. We're all of us free to carry the battle into the
enemy's camp and with the more vigour since you are fighting with us,
John Gay. The 'Beggar's Opera'--'tis mainly the Dean's idea--the title
alone is vastly fine--will give you all the chance in the world. Pray do
not forget the Dean's verses he sent you 't'other day. They must be set
to good music, though for my own part I know not one tune from another."

Snatching a sheet of paper from the table Pope, in his thin, piping
voice, read with much gusto:--

"Through all the employments of life
Each neighbour abuses his brother,
Trull and rogue they call husband and wife,
All professions be-rogue one another.

"The priest calls the lawyer a cheat,
The lawyer be-knaves the divine,
And the statesman because he's so great
Thinks his trade as honest as mine."

"Aye; that should go home. Faith, I'd give my gold headed cane to see
Sir Robert's face when he hears those lines," laughed the cheery
physician. "Who will sing them, Mr. Gay?"

"I know not yet; we've settled upon very few things. Our good musician,
Dr. Pepusch, is ready whenever I hand him the verses and the tunes to
set them to. Why, I've not decided the names of the characters, and that
let me tell you, doctor, is no easy matter. I call the first wench