with you, he is always engaged in a Parti quarre; and then he speaks all the French he is Master of.  If he has an Amour, it is with a Woman of Quality.  He sits in the Side Box the first Act of the Play, and stays no longer, for some Reasons best known to himself.  It happened once, that a Person sat next to him, who, by his Star and Garter, he knew to be of the first Rank:  Tom, seeing some of his Acquaintance in the middle Gallery, thought it would be for his Reputation to be seen to talk with this Gentleman; therefore, observing when the Eyes of his Acquaintance were upon him, he drew his Lips near my Lord’s Ear, and asked him what a Clock it was; my Lord answered him; then Tom look’d up again, and smiled; and when he talked with his Friends next, told them, that his Lordship had informed him of some Changes designed at Court, not yet made publick; and therefore they must pardon him if he did not communicate.  He did not come off so well upon another Occasion; for having boasted of a great Intimacy with a certain Foreign Minister, Tom was asked by some Gentlemen to go one Evening to his Assembly:  He willingly accepted the Party, thinking by their Means to get Admittance:  They, on the contrary, expected to be introduced by him; when they came into his Excellency’s House, the Porter, who had dress’d himself in his great Coat, which was richly laced, and having a good Wig, well powder’d, was coming down to take his Post; Tom seeing the Richness of the Habit, fancied it was a Robe worn by Foreigners, mistook the Porter for the Embassador, and, making several low Bows, began to address him with, May it please your Excellency.  The Fellow answered, Sir, if you’d speak with my Lord, I’ll call one of his Gentlemen to you; this raised a Laugh against him by his Companions, and Tom walked off defeated in his Vanity, tho’ he would fain have laid the Mistake on a sudden Absence of Thought, and asserted, that he had frequently conversed with the Ambassador.

My old Friend, the Humourist, who is liberal of Talk in his Wine, I must confess, sometimes lets his Vain-Glory bring his Discourse under some Suspitions; especially, when upon the Strain of his Intimacy with King Charles.  He tells how that Prince, seeing him one Morning in the Park, obliged him to take a Breakfast with him at Whitehall:  As soon as they were got into the Lodgings, the King called for Kate, meaning the Queen, made her salute his Friend, and asked her how she could entertain them.  The Queen, he says, seeing a Stranger, made some little Hesitations:  But at last, My Dear, says she, we have nothing but a Rib of cold Beef at present, for yesterday, you know, was Washing-Day.  In short, he tells this Story with so much Gravity, that you must either consent to believe it, or be obliged to fight him, for suspecting the Truth of it.

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