[Footnote 6:  Pope:  Works (ed.  Elwin and Courthope), VII, p. 415.]

[Footnote 7:  Swift:  Works (ed.  Scott), XVI, p. 123.]

[Footnote 8:  Spence:  Anecdotes (ed.  Singer), p. 10.]

CHAPTER IV

1714

“THE SHEPHERD’S WEEK,” “A LETTER TO A LADY.”

The outstanding literary event in Gay’s career in 1714 was the pastoral, “The Shepherd’s Week,” which was published by R. Burleigh on April 15th, which contained a “Proeme to the Courteous Reader,” and a “Prologue to the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Bolingbroke,” which was, in fact, a dedication:—­

     Lo, I who erst beneath a tree
  Sung Bumkinet and Bowzybee,
  And Blouzelind and Marian bright,
  In apron blue or apron white,
  Now write my sonnets in a book,
  For my good lord of Bolingbroke.

The author then states that he had heard of the Queen’s illness and how the skill of Arbuthnot had restored her to health:—­

  A skilful leech (so God him speed)
  They said had wrought this blessed deed,
  This leech Arbuthnot was yclept,
  Who many a night not once had slept;
  But watch’d our gracious Sov’reign still: 
  For who could rest when she was ill? 
  O may’st thou henceforth sweetly sleep! 
  Shear, swains, oh shear your softest sheep
  To swell his couch; for well I ween,
  He saved the realm who saved his Queen.

     Quoth I, please God, I’ll his with glee
  To court, this Arbuthnot to see.

Such loyalty, of course, the hardest heart must touch, but loyalty in this case had its reward, and the journey to Court was well worth the pains:—­

     There saw I ladies all a-row
  Before their Queen in seemly show. 
  No more I’ll sing Buxoma brown,
  Like goldfinch in her Sunday gown;
  Nor Clumsilis, nor Marian bright,
  Nor damsel that Hobnelia hight. 
  But Lansdown fresh as flowers of May,
  And Berkely lady blithe and gay,
  And Anglesea, whose speech exceeds
  The voice of pipe or oaten reeds;
  And blooming Hyde, with eyes so rare,
  And Montague beyond compare. 
  Such ladies fair wou’d I depaint
  In roundelay or sonnet quaint.

But charming as were these ladies, there was still a better sight in store for the visitor:—­

     There saw I St. John, sweet of mien. 
  Full steadfast both to Church and Queen. 
  With whose fair name I’ll deck my strain,
  St. John, right courteous to the swain.

     For thus he told me on a day,
  Trim are thy sonnets, gentle Gay,
  And certes, mirth it were to see
  Thy joyous madrigals twice three,
  With preface meet and notes profound. 
  Imprinted fair, and well y-bound. 
  All suddenly then home I sped,
  And did ev’n as my Lord had said.