As these eyes must one day cease to gaze on Teraminta, and this heart shall one day pant no more for her indignation: that is to say, since this body must be earth; I shall commit it to the dust in a manner suitable to my character. Therefore, as there are those who dispute, whether there is any such real person as Isaac Bickerstaff or not; I shall excuse all persons who appear what they really are, from coming to my funeral. But all those who are, in their way of life, persona*, as the Latins have it, persons assumed, and who appear what they really are not, are hereby invited to that solemnity. The body shall be carried by six watchmen, who are never seen in the day. Item, The pall shall be held up by the six most known pretenders to honesty, wealth, and power, who are not possessed of any of them. The two first, a half-lawyer, and a compleat justice. The two next, a chymist, and a projector. The third couple, a treasury-solicitor, and a small courtier. To make my funeral (what that solemnity, when done to common men, really is in itself) a very farce, and since all mourners are mere actors on these occasions, I shall desire those who are professedly such to attend mine. I humbly, therefore, beseech Mrs. Barry to act once more, and be my widow. When she swoons away at the churchporch, I appoint the merry Sir John Falstaff, and the gay Sir Harry Wildair, to support her. I desire Mr. Pinkethman to follow in the habit of a cardinal, and Mr. Bullock in that of a privy-counsellor. To make up the rest of the appearance, I desire all the ladies from the balconies to weep with Mrs. Barry, as they hope to be wives and widows themselves. I invite all, who have nothing else to do, to accept of gloves and scarves. * Masks. Thus, with the great Charles V. of Spain, I resign the glories of this transitory world: Yet, at the same time, to show you my indifference, and that my desires are not too much fixed upon any thing, I own to you, I am as willing to stay as to go: therefore leave it in the choice of my gentle readers, whether I shall hear from them, or they hear no more from me." White's Chocolate-house, April 25. Easter-day being a time when you cannot well meet with any but humble adventurers; and there being such a thing as low gallantry, as well as low comedy, Colonel Ramble and myself went early this morning into the fields, which were strewed with shepherds and shepherdesses, but indeed of a different turn from the simplicity of those of Arcadia. Every hedge was conscious of more than what the representations of enamoured swains admit of. While we were surveying the crowd around us, we saw at a distance a company coming towards Pancras church; but though there was not much disorder, we thought we saw the figure of a man stuck through with a sword, and at every step ready to fall, if a woman by his side had not supported him; the rest followed two and two. When we came nearer this appearance, who should it be but Monsieur Guardeloop, mine and Ramble's French taylor, attended by others, leading one of Madam Depingle's maids to the church, in order to their espousals. It was his sword tucked so high above his waist, and the circumflex which persons of his profession take in their walking, that made him appear at a distance wounded and falling. But, the morning being rainy, methought the march to this wedding was but Probably Colonel Brett. too lively a picture of wedlock itself. They seemed both to have a month's mind to make the best of their way single; yet both tugged arm in arm: and when they were in a dirty way, he was but deeper in the mire, by endeavouring to pull out his companion, and yet without helping her. The bridegroom's feathers in his hat all drooped; one of his shoes had lost an heel. In short, he was in his whole person and dress so extremely soused, that there did not appear one inch or single thread about him unmarried. Pardon me, that the melancholy object still dwells upon me so far, as to reduce me to punning. How ever, we attended them to the chapel, where we stayed to hear the irrevocable words pronounced upon our old servant, and made the best of our way to town. I took a resolution to forbear all married persons, or any in danger of being such, for four and twenty hours at least; therefore dressed, and went to visit Florimel, the vainest thing in town, where I knew would drop in colonel Picket, just come from the camp, her professed admirer. He is of that order of men who have much honour and merit, but withal a coxcomb; the other of that set of females, who has innocence and wit, but the first of coquets. It is easy to believe, these must be admirers of each ether. She says the colonel rides the best of any man in England: The colonel says, she talks the best of any woman. At the same time, he understands wit just as she does horsemanship. You are to know, these extraordinary persons see each other daily; and they themselves, as well as the town, think it will be a match: But it can never happen that they can come to the point; for, instead of addressing to each other, they spend their whole time in the reports of themselves: he is satisfied if he can convince her he is a fine gentleman, and a man of consequence; and she in appearing to him an ac complished lady and a wit, without further design. Thus he tells her of his manner of posting his men at such a pass, with the numbers he commanded on that detachment: she tells him, how she was dressed on such a day at court, and what offers were made her the week following. She seems to hear the repetition of his men's names with admiration, and waits only to answer him with as false a muster of lovers. They talk to each other, not to be informed, but improved. Thus they are so like, that they are to be ever distant, and the parallel lines may run together for ever, but never meet. Will's Coffee-house, April 25. This evening the comedy, called "Epsom Wells," was acted for the benefit of Mr. Bullock, who, though he is a person of much wit and ingenuity, has a peculiar talent of looking like a fool, and therefore excellently well qualified for the part of Bisket in this play. I cannot indeed sufficiently admire his way of bearing a beating, as he does in this drama, and that with such a natural air and propriety of folly, that one cannot help wishing the whip in one's own hand; so richly does he seem to deserve his chastisement. Skilful actors think it a very peculiar happiness to play in a scene with such as top their parts. Therefore I cannot but say, when the judgment of any good author directs him to write a beating for Mr. Bullock from Mr. William Pinkethman, or for Mr. William Pinkethman from Mr. Bullock, those excellent players seem to be in their most shining circumstances, and please me more, but with a different sort of delight, than that which I receive from those grave scenes of Brutus and Cassius, or Antony and Ventidius. The whole comedy is very just, and the low part of human life represented with much humour and wit. St. James's Coffee-house, April 25. We are advised from Vienna, by letters of the twentieth instant, that the Emperor hath lately added twenty new members to his Council of State, but they have not yet taken their places at the board. General Thaun is returned from Baden, his health being so well re-established by the baths of that place, that he designs to set out next week for Turin, to his command of the Imperial troops in the service of the Duke of Savoy. His Imperial Majesty has advanced his brother, Count Henry Thaun, to be a brigadier, and a counsellor of the Aulic council of war. These letters import, that king Stanislaus and the Swedish General Crassau are directing their march to the Nieper, to join the King of Sweden's army in Ukrania; that the States of Austria have furnished Marshal Heister with a considerable sum of money, to enable him to push on the war vigorously in Hungary, where all things as yet are in perfect tranquillity; and that General Thungen has been very importunate for a speedy reinforcement of the forces on the Upper Rhine, representing at the same time what miseries the inhabitants must necessarily undergo, if the designs of France on those parts be not speedily and effectually prevented. Letters from Rome, dated the thirteenth instant, say, that, on the preceding Sunday, his Holiness was carried in an open chair from St. Peter's to St. Mary's, attended by the sacred College, in cavalcade; and, after mass, distributed several dowries for the marriage of poor and distressed virgins. The proceedings of that court are very dilatory concerning the recognition of king Charles, notwithstanding the pressing instances of the Marquis de Prie, who has declared, that if this affair be not wholly concluded |