Journal of the Plague Year

continued, by a Gentleman

Deſpite my conſiſtent Warnings of Treachery and unobtruſive Hints at mine own Willingneſs for the Nation's Sake to ſtep into one or ſeverall Pairs of dead Miniſters' Shoes, our noble Prime Miniſter hath betook himſelf on Holiday, it may be preſumed with one or more of his numerous Whores and Broods. Without the ſemi-Divine Guidance of his mighty Brain, and the far-ſighted Pluck and Gumption of his entrepreneurial Heart, to ſay nothing of the great diplomatick Bottle-neck beſtowed by his heroically ballooning Proſtate Gland, it is onlie naturall and inevitable that ſubordinate Miniſters will continue entirely unmindful of the true Victims of this national Criſis, falling to Diſcord and unauthoriſed Meaſures in order to demonſtrate their illuſory Independence of Spirit and to ſecure their own Poſitions againſt my ſatanically ſubtil Manœuvres. Thus one Miniſter hath moſt ſcurrilouſly and outrageouſly proclaimed, that those depraved and diſsipated Hovellers who refuſe timely Payment of their Rent, ſhall have a full further Calendar Month in which to waſte their Reſources on Gaming, ſtrong Drink and Tattoos. It is true that a Miniſter of more reſponſible Attitude hath attempted to balance this Heliogabalian Profligacy by aboliſhing the Penſions for the Families of thoſe Surgeons, Apothecaries and Nurſes who periſhed during the Peſtilence from a Surfeit of Applauſe; but difficult Choices are nevertheleſs in Store. With not five Weeks left before next Quarter-day and the Peaſantry continuing reſtleſs and belligerent, I ſhall have Bailiffs ſitting idle until Chriſtmas while my Eſtates go untended and my Wardrobe unrepleniſhed but for Stockings and the leſs colourful Waiſtcoats.