the chaise was at the gate soon after eleven. Monsieur Matthews took a morsel of bread, and a large glass of Hermitage wine; after which they embraced with much kindness, and so parted.
Our journey to Calais passed without any accident worth informing you. Mr. Prior, who is of a constitution somewhat tender, was troubled with a rheum, which made speaking uneasy to him: but it was not so at all to me; and therefore I entertained him, as well as I could, chiefly with the praises of our great monarch, the magnificence of his court, the number of his attendants, the awe and veneration paid him by his generals and ministers, and the immense riches of the kingdom. One afternoon, in a small village between Chaumont and Beauvais, as I was discoursing on this subject, several poor people followed the chaise, to beg our charity: one louder than the rest, a comely person, about fifty, all in rags, but with a mien that showed him to be of a good house, cried out, monsieur, pour l'amour de Dieu, &c. "Sir, for the love of God, give something to the marquis de Sourdis!" Mr. Prior, half asleep, rouzed himself up at the name of marquis, called the poor gentleman to him, and, observing something in his behaviour like a man of quality, very generously threw him a pistole. As the coach went on, monsieur Prior asked me, with much surprise, "Whether I thought it possible that unhappy creature could be un veritable marquis[1]; for, if it were so, surely the miseries of our country must be much greater than even our very enemies
- ↑ A real marquis.
