The Story of Doctor Johnson; Being an Introduction to Boswell's LifeRoberts, S. C. (Sydney Castle)
History
The Story of Doctor Johnson; Being an Introduction to Boswell's Life
Roberts, S. C. (Sydney Castle)
Authors, English -- 18th century -- Biography; Johnson, Samuel, 1709-1784
"One night when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a tavern in London,
and sat till about three in the morning, it came into their heads to
go and knock up Johnson, and see if they could prevail on him to join
them in a ramble. They rapped violently at the door of his chambers
in the Temple, till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little
black wig on the top of his head, instead of a nightcap, and a poker
in his hand, imagining, probably, that some ruffians were coming to
attack him. When he discovered who they were, and was told their
errand, he smiled, and with great good humour agreed to their proposal:
'What, is it you, you dogs! I'll have a frisk with you.' He was soon
drest, and they sallied forth together into Covent-Garden, where the
greengrocers and fruiterers were beginning to arrange their hampers,
just come in from the country. Johnson made some attempts to help them;
but the honest gardeners stared so at his figure and manner, and odd
interference, that he soon saw his services were not relished. They
then repaired to one of the neighbouring taverns, and made a bowl of
that liquor called _Bishop_, which Johnson had always liked; while in
joyous contempt of sleep, from which he had been roused, he repeated
the festive lines,
Short, O short then be thy reign,
And give us to the world again!
They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, took a boat, and
rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and Johnson were so well pleased with
their amusement, that they resolved to persevere in dissipation for the
rest of the day: but Langton deserted them, being engaged to breakfast
with some young Ladies. Johnson scolded him for 'leaving his social
friends, to go and sit with a set of wretched _un-idea'd_ girls.'
Garrick being told of this ramble, said to him smartly, 'I heard of
your frolick t'other night. You'll be in the Chronicle.' Upon which
Johnson afterwards observed '_He_ durst not do such a thing. His _wife_
would not _let_ him!'"
At another time Beauclerk was tickled by a sudden display of gallantry
on Johnson's part:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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