Tra. I wish her much joy on't.
Both. For God's sake, my Lady Bluebottle, check not
This gentle emotion, so seldom our lot
Upon earth. Give it way: 'tis an impulse which lifts
Our spirits from earth—the sublimest of gifts;
For which poor Prometheus was chained to his mountain:
'Tis the source of all sentiment—feeling's true fountain;
'Tis the Vision of Heaven upon Earth: 'tis the gas
Of the soul: 'tis the seizing of shades as they pass,140
And making them substance: 'tis something divine:—
Ink. Shall I help you, my friend, to a little more wine?
Both. I thank you: not any more, sir, till I dine.[632]
Ink. Apropos—Do you dine with Sir Humphry to day?
Tra. I should think with Duke Humphry[633] was more in your way.
Ink. It might be of yore; but we authors now look
To the Knight, as a landlord, much more than the Duke.
The truth is, each writer now quite at his ease is,
And (except with his publisher) dines where he pleases.
But 'tis now nearly five, and I must to the Park.150
Tra. And I'll take a turn with you there till 'tis dark.
And you, Scamp—
Scamp. Excuse me! I must to my notes,
For my lecture next week.
Ink. He must mind whom he quotes
Out of "Elegant Extracts."