The Curmudgeon

YOU'LL COME FOR THE CURSES. YOU'LL STAY FOR THE MUDGEONRY.

Tuesday, August 04, 2020

Journal of the Plague Year

continued, by a Gentleman

For ſeverall Weeks paſt the Streets have been filled with official Exhortations to all patriotick Subjects of Her Majeſty, that we ſhould forſake the tedious diſhonourable Security of our Homes and partake in proper ſafety of the rambunctious Pleaſures of the Summer, provided that all Perſons maintain a Diſtance equalling the average Longitude of a well-grown Bullock, or a fairly mature Sheep when at Stool or religious Worſhip. In Places where ſuch Diſtance is impoſsible or utterly inconvenient to maintain, or in Boroughs where more than a third Part of the Electorate hath for the paſt Twelvemonth been in continuous Poſseſsion of a Houſe with a Fire-place or Hearth capable of accommodating a Cauldron, the liquid Capacity of which exceedeth half a dozen Imperial Gallons at the Boil without overſpilling the Rim, the Extent of the Precautions to be taken is left to the perſonal Diſcretion and Pluck of each free Subject of the Crown, except in certain Circumſtances of erotick Diſcombobulation. During the hot Weather laſt Week I took dutiful Advantage of theſe new Liberties to go and take the Waters at Bournemouth, where I was much encouraged by the vaſt Quantities of broiling purple Blubber ſprawling and wobbling upon the Sands. For as long as the great Engliſh Holiday retaineth its thouſand-year Complexion, we cannot but perſiſt in our Faith that thoſe who ſurvive this Peſtilence ſhall inherit the ſunlit Uplands of a moderate and leiſured, yet world-conquering Liberty.

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