Читать книгу The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney - Frances Burney - Страница 93

On Tuesday, Dec. 24, I went in the evening to call on Mrs. Thrale, and tore myself away from her to go to Bolt-court to see Dr. Johnson, who is very unwell. He received me with great kindness, and bade me come oftener, which I will try to contrive. He told me he heard of nothing but me, call upon him who would; and, though he pretended to growl, he was evidently delighted for me. His usual set, Mrs. Williams and Mrs. De Mullins, were with him; and some queer man of a parson who, after grinning at me some time, said,—

“Pray, Mrs. De Mullins, is the fifth volume of ‘Cecilia’ at home yet? Dr. Johnson made me read it, ma’am.”

“Sir, he did it much honour.”

“Made you, sir?” said the doctor, “you give an ill account of your own taste or understanding, if you wanted any making to read such a book as ‘Cecilia.’”

“Oh, sir, I don’t mean that; for I am sure I left every thing in the world to go on with it.”

A shilling was now wanted for some purpose or other, and none of them happened to have one; I begged that I might lend one.

“Ay, do,” said the doctor, “I will borrow of you; authors are like privateers, always fair game for one another.”

“True, sir,” said the parson, “one author is always robbing another.”

“I don’t know that, sir,” cried the doctor; “there sits an author who, to my knowledge, has robbed nobody. I have never once caught her at a theft. The rogue keeps her resources to herself!”