Farewell; and O! where'er thy voice be tried, 420 Teach him, that states of native strength possess'd, 425 * That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, 430 1 Tornea, Gulf of Bothnia, Sweden. Pambamarca is said to be a mountain near Quito, South America.-ED. 2 The four lines marked with an asterisk were written by Dr. Johnson, according to Boswell; vide Life of Johnson,' Bohn's edition, vol. ii., p. 309:-" At the same time Dr. Johnson favoured me by marking the lines which he furnished to Goldsmith's Deserted Village,' which are only the last four." But, as we have said at p. 19, there was no evidence of this fact till Boswell wrote; and, what is perhaps stranger still, even after Boswell had written, Percy, the friend and literary executor of Goldsmith, in his edition of the Works' (1801) makes no mention of Johnson's contribution of these lines. Evans's first collected edition of the Poems and Plays (1780-86) is likewise without any indication of these contributions. See also Appendix to the Poems, p. 141.-ED. THE HAUNCH OF VENISON; A POETICAL EPISTLE TO LORD CLARE. [Written about 1771, but not published until 1776, two years after the poet's death. A second edition also appeared in 1776, having "additions and corrections taken from the author's last transcript." Our text is mainly that of the second edition; but as some of the "corrected" lines of that edition have been thought to be inferior to the corresponding lines in the first edition, we add the latter as variations.-ED.] THANKS, my lord, for your venison, for finer or fatter To spoil such a delicate picture by eating: 2 5 I had thoughts, in my chambers to place it in view, 10 But, my lord, it's no bounce: I protest, in my turn, It's a truth-and your lordship may ask Mr. Burn.3 15 1 Var. The white was so white, and the red was so ruddy.-First edition. 2 This couplet is one of the additions to the second edition.-ED. 3 Mr. Byrne, Lord Clare's nephew.-ED. To go on with my tale: as I gazed on the haunch, I thought of a friend that was trusty and staunch; To paint it, or eat it, just as he lik'd best. Of the neck and the breast I had next to dispose 'Twas a neck and a breast that might rival M-r-e's:1 But in parting with these I was puzzled again, 20 25 With the how, and the who, and the where, and the when. 3 But, hang it! to poets, who seldom can eat, 4 30 35 An acquaintance-a friend, as he call'd himself—enter'd; An under-bred, fine spoken fellow was he, And he smiled as he look'd at the venison and me,—' 5 1 The full word "Monroe's" is in the first, and in editions after the second. Dorothy Monroe was a beauty celebrated in Lord Townshend's verse.-ED. 2 The full names, “Coley, and Williams, and Howard, and Hiff,” are in the first edition. "Hiff" stands for Paul Hiffernan, M.D., a turbulent Irishman of the Grub Street class of authors. He was associated with Burke in that celebrity's youthful squabbles with the theatrical managers of Dublin; and, later, was a hack writer, and half friend, half pensioner of Goldsmith in London. The others alluded to are now unknown, though probably they were characters of the same genus as "Hiff." Mr. Bolton Corney queries whether Howard is the author of the "Choice Spirits' Museum" (1765), and whether "H―rth" is Hogarth, the surgeon of Golden Square.-ED. 3 This couplet first appeared in the second edition. The full name "Higgins" appeared later. It is in the 1777 edition, and Percy also gives it, though without telling us who Higgins was. Mr. B. Corney thinks he may have been Captain Higgins, the officious military "friend" who helped Goldsmith to, rather than in, his quarrel with Evans the bookseller; see our 'Life' of the poet, p. 33, vol. i.—Ed. 4 Var. Such dainties to them! It would look like a flirt, Like sending 'em ruffles, when wanting a shirt. First edition. 5 Var.-A fine spoken Custom-house officer he, First edition. "What have we got here?-Why, this is good eating! Your own, I suppose-or is it in waiting? Why, whose should it be?" cried I, with a flounce, "I get these things often; "--but that was a bounce. "Some lords, my acquaintance, that settle the nation, Are pleas'd to be kind-but I hate ostentation." 1 "If that be the case, then," cried he, very gay, "I'm glad I have taken this house in my way: To-morrow you take a poor dinner with me; No words-I insist on't-precisely at three: 40 45 We'll have Johnson, and Burke, all the wits will be there; My acquaintance is slight, or I'd ask my lord Clare. 50 We wanted this venison to make out the dinner. What say you-a pasty? it shall, and it must, 55 No stirring, I beg-my dear friend-my dear friend!"" Thus, snatching his hat, he brusht off like the wind, Left alone to reflect, having emptied my shelf, And "nobody with me at sea but myself;" Though I could not help thinking my gentleman hasty, Yet Johnson, and Burke, and a good venison pasty, Were things that I never disliked in my life, Though clogg'd with a coxcomb, and Kitty his wife. 60 So next day, in due splendour, to make my approach, 65 I drove to his door in my own hackney coach. When come to the place where we all were to dine, (A chair lumber'd closet, just twelve feet by nine,) My friend bade me welcome, but struck me quite dumb With tidings that Johnson and Burke would not come; This couplet is an addition to the second edition.-ED. 2 Var.-No words, my dear Goldsmith! my very good friend! First edition. 3 A quotation from some love-letters that passed between his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland and Lady Grosvenor (12mo., 1769), of which the newspapers were at the time making fun.-ED. "For I knew it," he cried, " both eternally fail, 2 1 They both of them merry, and authors like you : 71 75 80 85 At the top, a fried liver and bacon were seen; At the bottom, was tripe in a swingeing tureen; At the sides, there was spinnage, and pudding made hot; In the middle, a place where the pasty-was not. Now, my Lord, as for tripe, it's my utter aversion, And your bacon I hate like a Turk or a Persian; So there I sat stuck like a horse in a pound, While the bacon and liver went merrily round: But what vex'd me most was that d- 'd Scottish rogue, With his long-winded speeches, his smiles and his brogue, 90 And," Madam," quoth he, " may this bit be my poison, A prettier dinner I never set eyes on: 3 4 Pray, a slice of your liver, though, may I be curst, But I've eat of your tripe till I'm ready to burst." "The tripe!" quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek, 95 "I could dine on this tripe seven days in the week: I like these here dinners, so pretty and small; But your friend there, the Doctor, eats nothing at all.” "O-ho!" quoth my friend, "he'll come on in a trice, He's keeping a corner for something that's nice : 100 1 An eminent London brewer, M.P. for the borough of Southwark, at whose table Dr. Johnson was a frequent guest.-B. 2 Var. Who dabble and write in the papers-like you. First edition. 3 This couplet is one of the additions to the second edition.-ED. 4 Prior [Life,' v. ii., p. 277] and Forster [v. ii., p. 262], say this Scotchman is "Parson Scott," who was a paid writer in support of the North ministry. He wrote in the Public Advertiser with the signatures Panurge and Anti-Sejanus; and it was he who unsuccessfully offered pay to Goldsmith to induce him to write for the North faction.-ED. |
