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A Pastoral 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 House with a small Park
belonging to the Crown: It was usually granted by the Crown for a Lease 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 Sum
mer there. It is within a Mile of Richmond. MARBLE-Hill is a House built by Mrs. Howard,
then of the Bed-chamber, now Countess of Suffolk,
and Groon of the Stole to the Queen. It is on the
Middlesex Side, near Twickenham, where Mr.
Pope lives, and about two Miles from Richmond-
Lodge. 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-House. Upon King George's Death, these
two Houses met, and had the following Dialogue.
N Spight of Pope, in Spight of Gay,
And all that He or They can say ;
Sing on I must, and sing I will
Of Richmond-Lodge, and Marble-Hill.
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,
Quoth Marble-Hal, right well I ween,
Your Mistress now is grown a Queen ;
You'll find it soon, by woful Proof,
She'll come no more beneath your Roof.
The kingly Prophet well evinces,
That we should put no Trust in Princes;
My Royal Master promis'd me
To raise me to a high Degree:
But, now He's grown a Kings God wot,
I fear I shall be foon forgot.
You fee, when Folks have
How quickly they neglect their Friends ;
Yet I may say '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,
four Shillings in the Pound.
'Tis come to what I always thought ;
My Dame is hardly worth a Groat.
and I been Courtiers born,
We should not chus have lain forlorn;
For, those we dext'rous Courtiers call,
Can rise upon their Master's Fall.
But we unlucky and unwise,
Must fall, because our Masters rise.
Richmond-L. My Master, scarce a Fortnight
Was grown as wealthy as a Prince ;
But now it will be no such 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
Plump Johnny Gay will now elope ;
And here no more will dangle Pope.
Richmond-L. Here won't the Dean, when he's
To spunge 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 said,
No Butter sticks upon his Bread, ,
We foon shall 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:
Whilst * Lady Charlotte, like a Stroller,
Sits mounted on the Garden Roller,
A goodly Sight to see her ride,
With ancient + Mirmont at her Side,
In Velvet Cap his Head lies warşı ;.
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 Taste ;
Chang'd for the worse in ev'ry Part,
My Master Pope will break his Heart.
Richmond-L. In my own Thames, may I be
If e'er. I stoop beneath a crown'd Head:
Except her Majesty prevails,
To place me with the Prince of Wales,
And then I shall be free from Fears,
For, he'll be Prince these fifty Years.
I then will turn a Coursier too,
And serve 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 less 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.
POEMS on several OCCASIONS:
Prefer our Villa's, where the Thames is,
To Kensington, or hot St. James's ;
Nor shall 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 Wildernesses,
Amist all Poets in Distresses.
Him twice a week I here expect,
To rattle * Moody for Neglect;
An idle Rogue, who spends his Quartridge
In tipling at the Dog and Partridge ;
And I can hardly get hiin down
Three times a Week to brush my Gown.
Richmond-L. I pity you, dear Marble-Hill ;
But, hope to see you
flourish still, All Happiness and so adieu.
Marble-H. Kind Richmond-Lodge; the fame to you.
Written in the Year 1727,
E Wife, instruct me to endure
An Evil, which admits no Cure :
Or, how this Evil can be born,
Which breeds at once both Hate and Scorn,