The King of Denmark[[13]] was at that time on a visit to England, and gave a masquerade ball at the Opera House, for which, of course, everybody was anxious to get tickets. In the epilogue to “Cyrus,” amongst other satirical strokes, as usual, on the habits and customs of the times, were the following lines:
With us what griefs from ills domestic rise,
When now a beau, and now a monkey dies!
In this our iron age, still harder lot,
A masquerade—no tickets to be got!
On the following morning, after the first hearing of this epilogue, tickets were left at the door of Mrs. Yates.
This, I have been told, was the first masquerade given in London after the death of George the Second, who was very fond of them, and seldom missed them at the theatre. George the Third did not approve of an amusement which he thought might lead to much that was wrong. He did not, however, refuse his brother-in-law, though he endeavoured to persuade him to give a fête of another description, and all he could afterwards do was not to encourage masquerades by his presence.
To return to Mr. Hoole. I was captivated by his translation of Tasso’s “Jerusalem,” which certainly has great merit. To translate from Italian into any other language is more than difficult; whereas the Italians can translate any author, not only of the dead but of the living languages, with the greatest facility, and with a correctness delightfully intelligible to the readers of their own country—an advantage also enjoyed by the Germans in a high degree.
When I first knew Dr. Johnson, I was a little afraid of his deep tone of voice and great wig; but when I had reached my seventh or eighth year, I was accustomed to all this, and felt grateful for his indulgence.
He was introduced to George the Fourth, then a child, in the library at St. James’s. He asked the young prince some questions about his studies, and when he took leave of him, said, “God bless you, sir! and make you as good a man and as great a king as your father.”