| Citation |
PP-P.773.072
17 May 1773:12 (2/82 Supplement)
From a London Paper. I am neither mad nor horned, but
believe I shall be both very soon. There's a good time
coming, as my wife says. It all depends upon her; and if my
happiness rests upon so frail a foundation as my Margery,
God help me, I say, and Amen!.
Look'e, sir., being but a cheesemonger, I have not a right
to say much for myself, so that my wife has it all her own
way. It was always our custom to dispute, from the very
first night of our marriage; and though she always got the
better of me at last, yet I held out pretty well with her
till last week, when disagreeing with her about the size of
her cap, she beat me as soft as one of my own new made
cheeses. That finished me. I held my tongue at once, and
never made any use of it again from that cursed night to
this unhappy day.
This morning, in an evil hour, she happened to cast her eye
upon the advertisement of the masked ball in the Pantheon;
and no sooner saw it than resolved that we should both go
together. I could not hold my tongue here. Margery, says
I, I'll go all over the world with you, and more than the
world over-- Ay, if occasion were, I would go to the Devil
with you; but to the Pantheon--- Never, never ! She gave me
to understand, however, that she knew much better about it
than I did myself. Jerry, says she, go you shall, go you
will, and go you must. You shall cut a figure with me at
the Pantheon this very night. Margery, answered I, look at
me; am I a man made for the Pantheons? Am I a man to rub
elbows with Dukes and Earls? Am I, a poor cheesemonger as I
stand here, a man to shew my ugly phiz among Duchesses?
Margery, I suppose they would toss me over the window. Me
cut a figure at the Pantheon! cut a pound of cheese better
it becomes me.
But all this did not signify. She laughed at me, and I
believe I must go. My pompadour coat is brushing very
clean, and the new steel buttons are to be put upon it. My
wig is to be very fined combed, and I find I am to have a
pair of the macaroni buckles in my shoes. I never was in
such a fluster in my life. I dread the very idea of this
Pantheon. Go I must; and the Lord knows if ever I shall
return again. Just as he and my wife pleases. If no
mischief befals me, and I return again, you shall probably
hear from me.
I am, Sir, &c.
Jerry Sneak.
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