the baseness of those bishops makes me love Ireland less than I did.
28. Lord Halifax sent to invite me to dinner, where I staid till six, and crossed him in all his whig talk, and made him often come over to me. I know he makes court to the new men, although he affects to talk like a whig. I had a letter to day from the bishop of Clogher; but I writ to him lately, that I would obey his commands to the duke of Ormond. He says I bid him read the London Shaver, and that you both swore it was Shaver, and not Shower. You all lie, and you are puppies, and cannot read Presto's hand. The bishop is out entirely in his conjectures of my share in the Tatlers. I have other things to mind, and of much greater importances[1], else I have little to do to be acquainted with a new ministry, who consider me a little more than Irish bishops do.
29. Now for your saucy good dear letter: let me see, what does it say? come then. I dined to day with Ford, and went home early; he debauched me to his chamber again with a bottle of wine till twelve: so good night. I cannot write an answer now, you rogues.
30. To day I have been visiting, which I had long neglected; and I dined with Mrs. Barton alone; and sauntered at the coffeehouse till past eight, and have been busy till eleven, and now I will answer your letter, saucebox. Well, let me see now again. My wax candle's almost out, but however I will begin. Well then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto; what can you say to MD's letter? Make haste, have done with your preambles Why, I say
- ↑ He was writing the Examiner at this time.
