my sickness though I 'scaped with one cold fit of an ague, and yours, I fear, is an intermitting fever. Since I heard nothing of your father, whom I left ill, I hope he is recovered of his real sickness, and that your sister is well of her's, which was only in imagination. My wife and son return you their most humble service, and I give mine to my cousin Steward. Madam, your most obliged and most obedient servant, JOHN DRYDEN. JOHN DRYDEN TO MRS. STEWARD. Dec. 12-98. MADAM, ALL my letters being nothing but acknowledgments of your favours to me, 'tis no wonder if they are alike: for they can but express the same thing, I being eternally the receiver, and you the giver. I wish it were in my power to turn the scale on the other hand, that I might see how you, who have so excellent a wit, could thank on your side. Not to name myself or my wife, my son Charles is the great commender of your last received present: who being of late somewhat indisposed, uses to send for some of the same sort, which we call here marrow puddings, for his supper; but the taste of yours has so spoiled his markets here, that there is not the least comparison betwixt them. You are not of an age to be a sibyl, and yet I think you are a prophetess; for the direction on your basket was for him; and he is likely to enjoy the greatest part of them: for I always think the young are to inquire, mends of his indisposition very slowly; the air of England not agreeing with him hitherto so well as that of Italy. The Bath is proposed by the doctors, both to him and me: but we have not yet resolved absolutely on that journey; for that city is so close and so ill situated, that perhaps the air may do us more harm than the waters can do us good: for which reason we intend to try them here first; and if we find not the good effect which is promised of them, we will save ourselves the pains of going thither. In the mean time, betwixt my intervals of physic and other remedies which I am using for my gravel, I am still drudging on: always a poet, and never a good one. I pass my time sometimes with Ovid, and sometimes with our old English poet, Chaucer; translating such stories as best please my fancy; and intend besides them to add somewhat of my own so that it is not impossible, but ere the summer be passed, I may come down to you with a volume in my hand, like a dog out of the water, with a duck in his mouth.-As for the rarities you promise, if beggars might be choosers, a part of a chine of honest bacon would please my appetite more than all the marrow puddings; for I like them better plain; having a very vulgar stomach. My wife and your cousin, Charles, give you their most humble service, and thanks for your remembrance of them. I present my own to my worthy cousin, your husband, and am, with all respect, madam, your most obliged servant, JOHN DRYDEN. This day was played a revived comedy of Mr. Congreve's, called The Double Dealer, which was never very taking. In the play bill was printed, "Written by Mr. Congreve; with several expressions omitted." What kind of expressions those were, you may easily guess, if you have seen the Monday's Gazette, wherein is the king's order for the reformation of the stage; but the printing an author's name in a play bill is a new manner of proceeding, at least in England.—When any papers of verses in manuscript, which are worth your reading, come abroad, you shall be sure of them; because, being a poetess yourself, you like those entertainments. I am still drudging at a book of Miscellanies, which I hope will be well enough; if otherwise, three score and seven may be pardoned. Charles is not yet so well recovered as I wish him; but I may say, without vanity, that his virtue and sobriety have made him much beloved in all companies. Both he and his mother give you their most humble acknowledgments of your remembering them. Be pleased to give mine to my cousin Stewart, who am both his and your most obliged, obedient servant, JOHN DRYDEN. You may see I was in haste by writing on the wrong side of the paper. |
