"Pata is frolicksome and smart,
As Geoffry once was-(Oh my heart!)
He's purer than a turtle's kiss,
And gentler than a little miss;
A jewel for a lady's ear,
And Mr. Walpole's pretty dear.
He laughs and cries with mirth or spleen;
He does not speak, but thinks, 'tis plain.
One knows his little Guai's as well
As if he'd little words to tell.
Coil'd in a heap, a plumy wreathe,
He sleeps, you hardly hear him breathe.
Then he's so nice, who ever saw
A drop that sullied his sofa?
His bended leg!-what's this but sense?-
Points out his little exigence.
He looks and points, and whisks about,
And says, pray, dear Sir, let me out.
Where shall we find a little wife,
To be the comfort of his life,
To frisk and skip, and furnish means
Of making sweet Patapanins?
England, alas! can boast no she,
Fit only for his cicisbee.
Must greedy Fate then have him all?-
No; Wootton to our aid we'll call-
The immortality's the same,
Built on a shadow, or a name.
He shall have one by Wootton's means,
The other Wootton for his pains."
(868) See the story of the White Cat in the fairy tales.
349 Letter 123 To Sir Horace Mann. London, Nov. 17, 1743.
I would not write on Monday till I could tell you the King was come. He arrived at St. James's between five and six on Tuesday. We were in great fears of his coming through the city, after the treason that has been publishing for these two months; but it is incredible how well his reception was beyond what it had ever been before: in short, you would have thought it had not been a week after the victory at Dettingen. They almost carried him into -the palace on their shoulders; and at night the whole town was illuminated and bonfired. He looks much better than he has for these five years, and is in great spirits. The Duke limps a little. The King's reception of the Prince, who was come to St. James's to wait for him, and who met him on the stairs with his two sisters and the privy councillors, was not so gracious-pas un mot-though the Princess was brought to bed the day before, and Prince George is ill of the small-pox. It is very Unpopular! You will possibly, by next week, hear great things: hitherto, all is silence, expectation, struggle, and ignorance. The birthday is kept on Tuesday, when the parliament was to have met; but that can't be yet.
Lord Holderness has brought home a Dutch bride:(869) I have not seen her. The Duke of Richmond had a letter yesterday from Lady Albemarle,(870) at Altona. She says the Prince of Denmark is not so tall as his bride, but. far from a bad figure: he is thin, and not ugly, except having too wide a mouth. When she returns, as I know her particularly, I will tell you more; for the present, I think I have very handsomely despatched the chapter of royalties. My lord comes to town the day after to-morrow.
The opera is begun, but is not so well as last year. The Rosa Maricini, who is second woman, and whom I suppose you have heard, is now old. In the room of Amorevoli, they have got a dreadful bass, who, the Duke of Montagu says he believes, was organist at Aschaffenburgh.
DO you remember a tall Mr. Vernon,(871) who travelled with Mr.
Cotton? He is going to be married to a sister of Lord
Strafford.
I have exhausted my news, and you shall excuse my being short to-day. For the future, I shall overflow with preferments, alterations, and parliaments.
Your brother brought me yesterday two of yours together, of Oct. 22 and 27, and I find you still overwhelmed with Richcourt's folly and the Admiral's explanatory ignorance. It is unpleasant to have old Pucci (872) added to your embarrassments.
Chevalier Ossorio (873) was with me the other morning, and we were talking over the Hanoverians, as every body does. I complimented him very sincerely on his master's great bravery and success: he answered very modestly and sensibly, that he was glad amidst all the clamours, that there had been no cavil to be found with the subsidy paid to his King. Prince Lobkowitz makes a great figure, and has all my wishes and blessings for having put Tuscany out of the question.