1. Prologue

-THEY order, said I, this matter better in France.-

-You have been in France? said my gentleman, turning quick upon me with the most civil triumph in the world.-Strange! quoth I, debating the matter with myself, that one and twenty miles' sailing, for 't is absolutely no further from Dover to Calais, should give a man these rights.-I'll look into them: so giving up the argument-I went straight to my lodgings, put up half a dozen shirts and a black pair of silk breeches-"the coat I have on," said I, looking at the sleeve, "will do"-took a place in the Dover stage; and the packet sailing at nine the next morning-by three I had got sat down to my dinner upon a fricasseed chicken, so incontestably in France, that had I died that night of an indigestion, the whole world could not have suspended the effects of the droits d'aubaine 1-my shirts, and black pair of silk breeches-portmanteau and all must have gone to the King of France-even the little picture which I have so long worn, and so often have told thee, Eliza, I would carry with me into my grave, would have been torn from my neck.-Ungenerous!-to seize upon the wreck of an unwary passenger, whom your subjects had beckon'd to their coast.-By heaven! SIRE, it is not well done; and much does it grieve me, 't is the monarch of a people so civilized and courteous, and so renowned for sentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reason with-

But I have scarce set foot in your dominions.-