The Curmudgeon

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

Monday, February 22, 2021

Journal of the Plague Year

continued, by a Gentleman

With the Queenes own Royal Conſort now languiſhing upon his Bed of Sickneſs, and doubtleſs diſplaying his Efficiency of Britiſhneſs by utiliſing a Quantity of Reſources apppropriate to ſeverall Dozens of leſser Breeding, our noble Prime Miniſter hath taken upon himſelf the heavy Taske of rayſing the National Spirit, with a ſolemn Pledge that nexte Summer will be another new Dawn of national Greatneſs, with an Ox in every Cooking-pot and that only an expendable Few ſhall periſh of it. All dutifull Optimiſts and induſtrious Patriots will be in Hopes, that the Woo Han Peſtilence may prove obliging to ſuch a Degree, as to reſpect the viſionary and uncompromiſed Time-table ſet forth by our dear Leader, and that the vulgar Facts may ſufficiently collect themſelves, as to bear out his ſtateſmanlike Wordes. For the Iſsue remains in ſome Doubt, whether our imperiſhable and invincible Realm can endure another Summer of reduced Revenue from the expendable Claſses, without ſuffering entire Collapſe and falling forever into the horrid Amphibian-ſtained Gripe of the beaſtlie French. Already the Heathen Plague hath reſulted in the moſt bloody and calamitous Conſequences, for our vital Chriſtian Markets in Slaves and Guſsets. Should all proceed according to Plan, the permitted Foregathering of Families will at the leaſt enſure the Renewal of Hopefulneſs for future Inheritances, which hath been ſore tried by the chronick Inacapacity of many Heirs, in making their affectionate Preſence known at the Bed-ſides of departing Elders.

0 Comments:

Post a comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home