“You may tell Mr. Garrick nothing, sir,” he repeated, as Garrick looked with a blank expression of interrogation around the company.
“Sir,” said Boswell, “my veracity is called in question.”
“What is a question of your veracity, sir, in comparison with the issues that have been in the balance during the past half-hour?” cried Johnson.
“Nay, sir, one question,” said Burke, seeing that Boswell had collapsed. “Mr. Garrick—have you heard Dr. Goldsmith boast of having a Dean for a relative?”
“Why, no, sir,” replied Garrick; “but I heard him say that he had a brother who deserved to be a Dean.”
“And so I had,” cried Goldsmith. “Alas! I cannot say that I have now. My poor brother died a country clergyman a few years ago.”
“I am a blind man so far as evidence bearing upon things seen is concerned,” said Johnson; “but it seemed to me that some of the man's gestures—nay, some of the tones of his voice as well—resembled those of Dr. Goldsmith. I should like to know if any one at the table noticed the similarity to which I allude.”
“I certainly noticed it,” cried Boswell eagerly.
“Your evidence is not admissible, sir,” said Johnson. “What does Sir Joshua Reynolds say?”
“Why, sir,” said Reynolds with a laugh, and a glance towards Garrick, “I confess that I noticed the resemblance and was struck by it, both as regards the man's gestures and his voice. But I am as convinced that he was no relation of Dr. Goldsmith's as I am of my own existence.”