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company laughed at him
or with him, provided they laughed. 'Live and laugh—laugh and live,'
was his motto; and certainly he lived on laughing, as well as many
better men can contrive to live on a thousand a year.
    Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him next day to introduce
him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that on this occasion Terence
appeared to peculiar disadvantage, because, like many other people, 'Il
gatoit l'esprit qu'il avoit en voulant avoir celui qu'il n'avoit pas.'
    Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine scholar, fresh from
Cambridge, and being conscious of his own deficiencies of literature,
instead of trusting to his natural talents, he summoned to his aid, with
no small effort, all the scraps of learning he had acquired in early
days, and even brought before the company all the gods and goddesses
with whom he had formed an acquaintance at school. Though embarrassed
by this unusual encumbrance of learning, he endeavoured to make all
subservient to his immediate design, of paying his court to Lady
Clonbrony, by forwarding the object she had most anxiously in view—the
match between her son and Miss Broadhurst.
    'And so, Miss Nugent,' said he, not daring, with all his assurance, to
address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony—'and so, Miss Nugent, you
are going to have great doings, I'm told, and a wonderful grand gala.
There's nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good, handsome
crowd. No later now than the last ball at the Castle that was before I
left Dublin, Miss Nugent—the apartments, owing to the popularity of my
lady-lieutenant, was so throng—so throng—that I remember very well,
in the doorway, a lady—and a very genteel woman she was too, though a
stranger to me—saying to me, "Sir, your finger's in my ear." "I know
it, madam," says I, "but I can't take it out till the crowd give me
elbow room."
    'But it's gala I'm thinking of now. I hear you are to have the golden
Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you?'
    'Sir!'
    This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence pursued his
course fluently. 'The golden Venus!—Sure, Miss Nugent, you, that are so
quick, can't but know I would apostrophise Miss Broadhurst that is, but
that won't be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen much yet
of that young lady?'
    'No, sir.'
    'Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk now of the Venus
of Medicis, and the Venus of this and that, with the Florence Venus, and
the sable Venus, and that other Venus, that's washing of her hair, and a
hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that as it will, my
lord, trust a fool—ye may, when he tells you truth—the golden Venus
is the only one on earth that can stand, or that will stand, through all
ages and temperatures; for gold rules the court, gold rules the camp,
and men below, and heaven above.'
    'Heaven above! Take care, Terry! Do you know what you're saying?'
interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
    'Do I? Don't I?' replied Terry. 'Deny, if you please, my lord, that
it was for a golden pippin that the three goddesses FIT—and that the
HIPPOMENES was about golden apples—and did not Hercules rob a garden
for golden apples?—and did not the pious Eneas himself take a golden
branch with him, to make himself welcome to his father in hell?' said
Sir Terence, winking at Lord Colambre.
    'Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should have suspected,'
said Lord Clonbrony.
    'Nor you would not have suspected me to have such a great acquaintance
among the goddesses neither, would you, my lord? But, apropos, before we
quit, of what material, think ye, was that same Venus's famous girdle,
now, that made roses and lilies so quickly appear? Why, what was it, but
a girdle of sterling gold, I'll engage?—for gold is the only true thing
for a young man to look after in a wife.'
    Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
    'Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of the Loves and
Graces. Minerva may sing odes and