A Paftoral DIALOGUE, between RICHMOND-LODGE and MARBLE-HILL.

Written June 1727, just after the News of the Death of George I. who died the 11th of that Month, in Germany.

RICHMOND-LODGE is a Houfe with a small Park belonging to the Crown: It was ufually granted by the Crown for a Leafe of Years; the Duke of Ormonde was the last who had it. After his Exile, it was given to the Prince of Wales, by the King. The Prince and Princess usually passed their Summer there. It is within a Mile of Richmond.

MARBLE-HILL is a Houfe built by Mrs. Howard, then of the Bed-chamber, now Countess of Suffolk, and Groom of the Stole to the Queen. It is on the Middlefex Side, near Twickenham, where Mr. Pope lives, and about two Miles from RichmondLodge. Mr. Pope was the Contriver of the Gardens, Lord Herbert the Architect, and the Dean of St. Patrick's chief Butler, and Keeper of the Ice-Houfe. Upon King George's Death, thefe two Houfes met, and had the following Dialogue.

N Spight of Pope, in Spight of Gay,

*IN Spight of

And all that He or They can fay;

Sing on I muft, and fing I will

Of Richmond-Lodge, and Marble-Hill.

LAST

*Note, This Poem was carried to Court, and read to King

GEORGE II, and Queen CAROLINE his Confort.

LAST Friday Night, as Neighbours use, This Couple met to talk of News.

For, by old Proverbs, it appears,

That Walls have Tongues, and Hedges, Ears,
MARBLE-HILL.

Quoth Marble-Hall, right well I ween,
Your Mistress now is grown a Queen ;
You'll find it foon, by woful Proof,
She'll come no more beneath your Roof.
RICHMOND-LODGE.

The kingly Prophet well evinces,
That we should put no Truft in Princes;
My Royal Mafter promis'd me
To raise me to a high Degree:

But, now He's grown a King, God wot,
I fear I fall be foon forgot.

You fee, when Folks have got their Ends,
How quickly they neglect their Friends;
Yet I may fay 'twixt me and you,
Pray God they now may find as true.

Marble-H. My House was built but for a Show,

My Lady's empty Pockets know:

And, now she will not have a Shilling
To raise the Stairs, or build the Ceiling;
For, all the courtly Madams round,
Now pay four Shillings in the Pound.
'Tis come to what I always thought;
My Dame is hardly worth a Groat.

Had
you and I been Courtiers born,
We should not thus have lain forlorn;
R 2

For,

For, those we dext'rous Courtiers call,
Can rife upon their Mafter's Fall.
But we unlucky and unwise,

Muft fall, because our Masters rise.

Richmond-L. My Mafter, fcarce a Fortnight

fince,

Was grown as wealthy as a Prince;

But now it will be no fuch thing,
For he'll be poor as any King:
And by his Crown will nothing get;

But, like a King, to run in Debt.

Marble-H. No more the Dean, that grave Divine, Shall keep the Key of my (no) Wine; My Ice-house rob as heretofore, And steal my Artichoaks no more; Poor Patty Blount no more be seen Bedraggled in my Walks fo green : Plump Johnny Gay will now elope; And here no more will dangle Pope.

Richmond-L. Here won't the Dean, when he's

to feek,

To fpunge a Breakfast once a Week;

To cry
the Bread was ftale, and mutter
Complaints against the Royal Butter.
But, now I fear, it will be faid,
No Butter sticks upon his Bread,
We foon fhall find him full of Spleen,
For want of tattling to the Queen;
Stunning her Royal Ears with talking;
His Rev'rence and her Highness walking:

Whilft Lady Charlotte, like a Stroller,
Sits mounted on the Garden Roller,
A goodly Sight to fee her ride,
With ancient † Mirmont at her Side,
In Velvet Cap his Head lies warm;
His Hat for Show, beneath his Arm,

Marble-H. Some South-Sea Broker from the City,
Will purchase me, the more's the Pity,
Lay all my fine Plantations waste,
To fit them to his vulgar Tafte;
Chang'd for the worse in ev'ry Part,
My Mafter Pope will break his Heart.
Richmond-L. In my own Thames may I be
drownded,

If e'er I ftoop beneath a crown'd Head:
Except her Majesty prevails,

To place me with the Prince of Wales,
And then I fhall be free from Fears,
For, he'll be Prince these fifty Years.
I then will turn a Courtier too,
And ferve the Times as others do.
Plain Loyalty, not built on Hope,
I leave to your Contriver, Pope:

None loves his King and Country better,
Yet none was ever lefs their Debtor.

Marble-H. Then, let him come and take a Nap,

In Summer, on my verdant Lap:

* Lady CHARLOTTE DE ROUSSY, a French Lady. +Marquis de MIRMONT, a French Man of Quality.

Prefer

Prefer our Villa's, where the Thames is,
To Kensington, or hot St. James's ;
Nor fhall I dull in Silence fit;
For, 'tis to me he owes his Wit;

My Groves, my Ecchoes, and my Birds,
Have taught him his poetick Words.
We Gardens, and you Wilderneffes,
Affift all Poets in Distresses.

Him twice a week I here expect,

*

To rattle Moody for Neglect;

An idle Rogue, who fpends his Quartridge
In tipling at the Dog and Partridge;

And I can hardly get him down

Three times a Week to brush my Gown.

Richmond-L. I pity you, dear Marble-Hill; But, hope to fee you flourish ftill,

All Happiness- -and fo adieu.

Marble-H. Kind Richmond-Lodge; the fame to you.

*The Gardener.

On CENSURE.

Written in the Year 1727.

E Wife, inftruct me to endure

YE

An Evil, which admits no Cure:

Or, how this Evil can be born,

Which breeds at once both Hate and Scorn,

Bare