[Footnote 1: Oroonoko-Chetwynd, M.P. for Plymouth. He was called Oroonoko and sometimes "Black Will," from his dark complexion.]
I don't tell you that the Hereditary Prince [of Brunswick][1] is still expected and not arrived. A royal wedding would be a flat episode after a _real_ fairy tale, though the bridegroom is a hero. I have not seen your brother General yet, but have called on him, When come you yourself? Never mind the town and its filthy politics; we can go to the Gallery at Strawberry--stay, I don't know whether we can or not, my hill is almost drowned, I don't know how your mountain is--well, we can take a boat, and always be gay there; I wish we may be so at seventy-six and eighty! I abominate politics more and more; we had glories, and would not keep them: well! content, that there was an end of blood; then perks prerogative its ass's ears up; we are always to be saving our liberties, and then staking them again! 'Tis wearisome! I hate the discussion, and yet one cannot always sit at a gaming-table and never make a bet. I wish for nothing, I care not a straw for the inns or the outs; I determine never to think of them, yet the contagion catches one; can you tell anything that will prevent infection? Well then, here I swear,--no, I won't swear, one always breaks one's oath. Oh, that I had been born to love a court like Sir William Breton! I should have lived and died with the comfort of thinking that courts there will be to all eternity, and the liberty of my country would never once have ruffled my smile, or spoiled my bow. I envy Sir William. Good night!
[Footnote 1: The Duke of Brunswick, who was mortally wounded in 1806 at the battle of Jena. He had come, as is mentioned in the next letter, to marry the King's sister.]
_MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCE OF BRUNSWICK: HIS POPULARITY._
Shall I tell you of all our crowds, and balls, and embroideries? Don't I grow too old to describe drawing-rooms? Surely I do, when I find myself too old to go into them. I forswore puppet-shows at the last coronation, and have kept my word to myself. However, being bound by a prior vow, to keep up the acquaintance between you and your own country, I will show you, what by the way I have not seen myself, the Prince of Brunswick. He arrived at Somerset House last Friday evening; at Chelmsford a quaker walked into the room, _did_ pull off his hat, and said, "Friend, my religion forbids me to fight, but I honour those that fight well." The Prince, though he does not speak English, understands it enough to be pleased with the compliment. He received another, very flattering. As he went next morning to St. James's, he spied in the crowd one of Elliot's light-horse and kissed his hand to the man. "What!" said the populace, "does he know you?" "Yes," replied the man; "he once led me into a scrape, which nothing but himself could have brought me out of again." You may guess how much this added to the Prince's popularity, which was at high-water mark before.