no Purpose; for the King gave him a private Hearing: In which he so well satisfy’d His Majesty of his Innocence and Integrity, that all his Lands were restor’d. The King wou’d have put him in his old Post; but he modestly declin’d it, but at the same time presented His Majesty with a Book of most excellent Receipts for all kinds of Puddings: Which Book His Majesty receiv’d with all imaginable Kindness, and kept it among his greatest Rarities.
But yet, as the best Instructions, tho’ never so strictly followed, may not be always as successfully executed, so not one of the King’s Cooks cou’d make a Pudding like Sir John; nay, tho’ he made a Pudding before their Eyes, yet they out of the very same Materials could not do the like. Which made his old Friends the Monks attribute it to Witchcraft, and it was currently reported the Devil was his Helper. But good King Harry was not to be fobb’d off so; the Pudding was good, it sate very well on his Stomach, and he eat very savourly, without the least Remorse of Conscience.
In short, Sir John grew in Favour in spite of their Teeth: The King lov’d a merry Joke; and Sir John had
always his Budget full of Punns, Connundrums and Carrawitchets; not to forgot the Quibbles and Fly-flaps he play’d against his Adversaries, at which the King has laugh’d ’till his Sides crackt.
Sir John, tho’ he was no very great Scholar, yet had a happy way of Expressing himself: He was a Man of the most Engaging Address, and never fail’d to draw Attention: Plenty and Good-Nature smil’d in his Face; his Muscles were never distorted with Anger or Contemplation, but an eternal Smile drew up the Corners of his Mouth; his very Eyes laugh’d; and as for his Chin it was three-double, a-down which hung a goodly Whey-colour’d Beard shining with the Drippings of his Luxury; for you must know he was a great Epicure, and had a very Sensible Mouth; he thought nothing too-good for himself, all his Care was for his Belly; and his Palate was so exquisite, that it was the perfect Standard of Tasting. So that to him we owe all that is elegant in Eating: For Pudding was not his only Talent, he was a great Virtuoso in all manner of Eatables; and tho’ he might come short of Lambert for Confectionary-Niceties, yet was he not inferiour to Brawnd, Lebec, Pede, or any other great Masters of Cookery; he could toss up a Fricassée as well as a Pancake:
And most of the Kickshaws now in vogue, are but his Inventions, with other Names; for what we call Fricassées, he call’d Pancakes; as, a Pancake of Chickens, a Pancake of Rabbets, &c. Nay, the French call a Pudding an English Fricassée, to this Day.
We value our selves mightily for Roasting a Hare with a Pudding in its Belly; when alas he has roasted an Ox with a Pudding in his Belly. There was no Man like him for Invention and Contrivance: And then for Execution, he spar’d no Labour and Pains to compass his magnanimous Designs.
O wou’d to Heav’n this little Attempt of Mine may stir up some Pudding-headed Antiquary to dig his Way through all the mouldy Records of Antiquity, and bring to Light the Noble Actions of Sir John! It will not then be long before we see him on the Stage. Sir John Falstaffe then will be a Shrimp to Sir John Pudding, when rais’d from Oblivion and reanimated by the All-Invigorating Pen of the Well-Fed, Well-Read, Well-Pay’d C— J—— Esq; Nor wou’d this be all; for the Pastry-Cooks wou’d from the Hands of an eminent Physician and Poet receive whole Loads of
Memorandums, to remind ’em of the Gratitude due to Sir John’s Memory.
On such a Subject I hope to see Sir Richard Out-do himself. Nor Arthur nor Eliza shall with Sir John compare. There is not so much difference between a Telescope and a Powder-Puff, a Hoop-Petty-Coat and a Farthing-Candle, a Birch-Broom and a Diamond-Ring, as there will be between the former Writings of this pair of Poets and their Lucubrations on this Head.