while: I find you have heard of the fact, by Southwell's letters from Ireland: What do you think of it? I dined with sir John Perceval[1], and saw his lady sitting in the bed, in the forms of a lying in woman; and coming home my sore shin itched, and I forgot what it was, and rubbed off the scab, and blood came; but I am now got into bed, and have put on alum curd, and it is almost well. Lord Rivers told me yesterday a piece of bad news, as a secret, that the pretender is going to be married to the duke of Savoy's daughter. It is very bad, if it be true. We were walking in the Mall with some Scotch lords, and he could not tell it until they were gone, and he bade me tell it to none but the secretary of state and MD. This goes to morrow, and I have no room but to bid my dearest little MD good night.
24. I will now seal up this letter, and send it; for I reckon to have none from you (it is morning now) between this and night; and I will put it in the post with my own hands. I am going out in great haste; so farewell, &c.
- ↑ Created baron Perceval, April 21, 1715, viscount Perceval, Feb. 25, 1722, and earl of Egmont, Nov. 6, 1733, all Irish titles; John, his only son, who was born Feb. 24, 1710-11, and succeeded him in honours and estate, was created an English peer, by the titles of baron Lovell and Holland, in 1762.
END OF THE FOURTEENTH VOLUME.
H. Baldwin and Son, Printers, New Bridge-street, London.
