his never appearing in England, which was the only wise thing he ever did, except purchasing sixteen thousand pounds a year — why, you need not stare: it is easily applied: I must be absent, in order to preserve my credit with her grace — Lo here comes in the duchess again (I know her by her d d's; but am a fool for discovering my art) to defend herself against my conjecture of what she said — Madam, I will imitate your grace and write to you upon the same line. I own it is a base unromantick spirit in me, to suspend the honour of waiting at your grace's feet, till I can finish a paltry lawsuit. It concerns indeed almost all my whole fortune; it is equal to half Mr. Pope's and two thirds of Mr. Gay's, and about six weeks rent of your grace's. This cursed accident has drilled away the whole summer. But, madam, understand one thing, that I take all your ironical civilities in a literal sense, and whenever I have the honour to attend you, shall expect them to be literally performed: though perhaps I shall find it hard to prove your handwriting in a court of justice; but that will not be much for your credit. How miserably has your grace been mistaken in thinking to avoid envy by running into exile, where it haunts you more than ever it did even at court? Non te civitas, non regia domus in exilium miserunt, sed tu utrasque. So says Cicero (as your grace knows) or so he might have said.
I am told that the Craftsman, in one of his papers, is offended with the publishers of (I suppose) the last edition of the Dunciad; and I was asked whether you and Mr. Pope were as good friends to the new disgraced person as formerly? This I knew nothing of, but suppose it was the consequence of
