_Tra_. What?
_Ink_. I perhaps may as well hold my tongue; But there"s five hundred people can tell you you"re wrong.
_Tra_. You forget Lady Lilac"s as rich as a Jew.
_Ink_. Is it miss or the cash of mamma you pursue?
_Tra_. Why, Jack, I"ll be frank with you--something of both.
The girl"s a fine girl.
_Ink_. And you feel nothing loth 80 To her good lady-mother"s reversion; and yet Her life is as good as your own, I will bet.
_Tra_. Let her live, and as long as she likes; I demand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand.
_Ink_. Why, that heart"s in the inkstand--that hand on the pen.
_Tra_. A propos--Will you write me a song now and then?
_Ink_. To what purpose?
_Tra_. You know, my dear friend, that in prose My talent is decent, as far as it goes; But in rhyme----
_Ink_. You"re a terrible stick, to be sure.
_Tra_. I own it; and yet, in these times, there"s no lure 90 For the heart of the fair like a stanza or two; And so, as I can"t, will you furnish a few?
_Ink_. In your name?
_Tra_. In my name. I will copy them out, To slip into her hand at the very next rout.
_Ink_. Are you so far advanced as to hazard this?
_Tra_. Why, Do you think me subdued by a Blue-stocking"s eye, So far as to tremble to tell her in rhyme What I"ve told her in prose, at the least, as sublime?
_Ink_. _As sublime!_ If i be so, no need of my Muse.
_Tra_. But consider, dear Inkel, she"s one of the "Blues."100
_Ink_. As sublime!--Mr. Tracy--I"ve nothing to say.
Stick to prose--As sublime!!--but I wish you good day.
_Tra_. Nay, stay, my dear fellow--consider--I"m wrong; I own it; but, prithee, compose me the song.
_Ink_. _As_ sublime!!
_Tra_. I but used the expression in haste.
_Ink_. That may be, Mr. Tracy, but shows d.a.m.ned bad taste.
_Tra_. I own it, I know it, acknowledge it--what Can I say to you more?
_Ink_. I see what you"d be at: You disparage my parts with insidious abuse, Till you think you can turn them best to your own use. 110
_Tra_. And is that not a sign I respect them?
_Ink_. Why that To be sure makes a difference.
_Tra_. I know what is what: And you, who"re a man of the gay world, no less Than a poet of t"other, may easily guess That I never could mean, by a word, to offend A genius like you, and, moreover, my friend.
_Ink_. No doubt; you by this time should know what is due To a man of----but come--let us shake hands.
_Tra_. You knew, And you _know_, my dear fellow, how heartily I, Whatever you publish, am ready to buy. 120
_Ink_. That"s my bookseller"s business; I care not for sale; Indeed the best poems at first rather fail.
There were Renegade"s epics, and Botherby"s plays,[615]
And my own grand romance--
_Tra_. Had its full share of praise.
I myself saw it puffed in the "Old Girl"s Review."[616]
_Ink_. What Review?
_Tra_. Tis the English "Journal de Trevoux;"[617]
A clerical work of our Jesuits at home.
Have you never yet seen it?
_Ink_. That pleasure"s to come.
_Tra_. Make haste then.
_Ink_. Why so?
_Tra_. I have heard people say That it threatened to give up the _ghost_ t"other day.[618] 130
_Ink_. Well, that is a sign of some _spirit_.
_Tra_. No doubt.
Shall you be at the Countess of Fiddlecome"s rout?
_Ink_. I"ve a card, and shall go: but at present, as soon As friend Scamp shall be pleased to step down from the moon, (Where he seems to be soaring in search of his wits), And an interval grants from his lecturing fits, I"m engaged to the Lady Bluebottle"s collation, To partake of a luncheon and learn"d conversation: "Tis a sort of reunion for Scamp, on the days Of his lecture, to treat him with cold tongue and praise. 140 And I own, for my own part, that "tis not unpleasant.
Will you go? There"s Miss Lilac will also be present.
_Tra_. That "metal"s attractive."
_Ink_. No doubt--to the pocket.
_Tra_. You should rather encourage my pa.s.sion than shock it.
But let us proceed; for I think by the hum----