LETTER XXXIX
Captain RISBY to the Honourable GEORGE
Barford Abbey.
Will all the thanks,—all the gratitude,—the parents blessings,—their infinity of joy, be contain'd in one poor sheet?—No:—Was I to repeat half,—only half of what they send, you, I might write on for ever.—One says you shall be their son;—another, their brother;—a third, that you are a man most favour'd of heaven—but all agree, as a reward for your virtues you are impower'd to heal afflictions—in short, they want to make me think you can make black white—But enough for the vanity of one man.
I dread your coming to the Abbey.—We that are here already, shall only, then, appear like pismires:—but let me caution my friend not to think his head will touch the clouds.
What man can bear to be twice disinherited?—Mr. Morgan's estate, which the other day I was solely to possess, is now to devolve on the Honourable George Molesworth.—But mark me:—As I have been disinherited for you,—you as certainly will be disinherited for Lord Darcey.
See what a man of consequence I am.—Does Captain Risby say this?—Does Captain Risby say that?—Does Captain Risby think well of it?
Expect, George, to behold me push'd into perferment against my will;—all great people say so, you know;—expect to behold me preside as governor of this castle.—Let me enjoy it then,—let me plume myself beneath the sun-beam.
If to witness the honours with I am surrounded, is insufficient to fill your expanded heart;—if it looks out for a warmer gratification; you shall see, you shall hear, the exulting parents?—you shall see Mr. Morgan revers'd;—Mr. Watson restor'd to more than sight—the steward and his family worthy every honour they receive from this honourable house.
I hear my shadow.—Strange, indeed! to hear shadows;—but more so to hear them swear.—Ha! ha! ha!—Ha! ha! ha!—I cannot speak to it for laughing.—Coming, Sir!—coming, Mr. Morgan!—Now is he cursing me in every corner of the house;—I suppose dinner is on the table.