ying (as his
master bid him), "that he would have writ himself, but he had the gout
in his hand," he said, "that the gout in his hand would not permit him
to put pen to paper." The fellow thought he had mended it mightily, and
that putting pen to paper was much better than plain writing.

I have no patience neither for these translations of romances. I met
with _Polexander_ and _L'illustre Bassa_ both so disguised that I, who
am their old acquaintance, hardly know them; besides that, they were
still so much French in words and phrases that 'twas impossible for one
that understands not French to make anything of them. If poor
_Prazimene_ be in the same dress, I would not see her for the world. She
has suffered enough besides. I never saw but four tomes of her, and was
told the gentleman that writ her story died when those were finished. I
was very sorry for it, I remember, for I liked so far as I had seen of
it extremely. Is it not my good Lord of Monmouth, or some such
honourable personage, that presents her to the English ladies? I have
heard many people wonder how he spends his estate. I believe he undoes
himself with printing his translations. Nobody else will undergo the
charge, because they never hope to sell enough of them to pay themselves
withal. I was looking t'other day in a book of his where he translates
_Pipero_ as piper, and twenty words more that are as false as this.

My Lord Broghill, sure, will give us something worth the reading. My
Lord Saye, I am told, has writ a romance since his retirement in the
Isle of Lundy, and Mr. Waller, they say, is making one of our wars,
which, if he does not mingle with a great deal of pleasing fiction,
cannot be very diverting, sure, the subject is so sad.

But all this is nothing to my coming to town, you'll say. 'Tis confest;
and that I was willing as long as I could to avoid saying anything when
I had nothing to say worth your knowing. I am still obliged to wait my
brother Peyton and his lady coming. I had a letter from him this week,
which I will send you, that you may see what hopes he gives. As little
room as I have left, too, I must tell you what a present I had made me
to-day. Two of the finest young Irish greyhounds that e'er I saw; a
gentleman that serves the General sent them me. They are newly come
over, and sent for by Henry Cromwell, he tells me, but not how he got
them for me. However, I am glad I have them, and much the more because
it dispenses with a