This lady, whose fortune so great and so distinguished an assembly had chosen to hear as a happy forerunner and lucky omen of all their own, which were to be asked afterwards in their turns, proving so contrary to their expectations, already unfortunate in the prediction, and having been in tears about the matter, disheartened all the rest of the beauties from consulting him farther that day. The person who kept the tavern, by name, Mrs. Irwin, alleged that as some people were very fortunate, and others unfortunate upon the same day, so one lady might be before told a mishap one minute, and another lady all the prosperity in nature the very next minute following, and therefore that what the unfortunate lady had heard was not to be taken as ominous, or as what could malignantly influence the day, neither ought it to be the least hinderance to any who had the curiosity of being let into the secrets of time beforehand. However, whether the ladies were convinced or no; if she prevailed over their belief in that point, she could not prevail over their humour, which, though they might not believe the former prediction ominous to themselves, were naturally awed for fear of the like, peradventure, for a time, and so it was agreed, _nemine contradicente_, as a witty lady wrote it down, That no more petitions should for that day be presented by any of that company to his dumb, yet oracular, majesty. Mrs. Irwin, however, would have her way; said she did not presume to such honour as to call herself of that company, and that therefore she might consult him without breaking through the votes of the assembly. Many endeavoured to dissuade her, but as she was passionately fond of knowing future events; and had a mighty itch to be very inquisitive with the oracle about what might happen, not only to herself, but her posterity; it was agreed that he should have the liberty of satisfying her curiosity, since she presumed her fortune was sure to be so good, and was so forward and eager for the knowledge of it. But, alas! such is too often the fantastical impulse of nature unluckily depraved, that it carries us often into wishes of knowing, what when known we would be glad to unknow again, and then our memory will not let us be untaught.