# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From Catherine Hyde to Jonathan Swift - 5

FROM THE DUCHESS OF QUEENSBERRY.
I HAVE only staid to give time for my letter's getting to you. There is some satisfaction in sitting down to write, now that I am something less in your debt; I mean by way of letter. To speak seriously, I must love contradiction more than ever woman did, if I did not obey your commands; for I do sincerely take great pleasure in conversing with you. If you have heard of my figure abroad, it is no more than I have done on both sides of my ears, (as the saying is): for I did not cut and curl my hair like a sheep's head, or wear one of their trolloping sacks; and by not so doing, I did give some offence.
We have seen many very fine towns, and travelled through good roads, and pleasant countries. I like Flanders in particular, because it is the likest to England. The inns were very unlike those at home, being much cleaner and better served; so that here I could not maintain my partiality with common justice. As to the civilizing any of that nation, it would employ more ill spent time fruitlessly than any ​one has to spare: they are the only people I ever saw that were quite without a genius to be civil when they had a mind to be so. Will you eat? Will you play at cards? are literally the tip top well bred phrases in use. The French people we met, are quite of another turn, polite and easy; one is the natural consequence of the other, though a secret that few have discovered. I can bring you an Irish witness (if that be sufficient) that I have wished for you many times during this journey, particularly at Spa, where I imagined you might have been mending every day as fast as I did; and you are a base man to say, that any such impediment as you mentioned, thwarted your journey; for you were sure of a welcome share in every thing we had. It were unnecessary to say this now, if we had no thoughts of ever going again; but it is what I am strongly advised to though I should not much want it, and I am not averse: travelling agrees with me, and makes me good humoured. At home I am generally more nice than wise, but on the road nothing comes amiss. At Calais we were windbound four or five days, and I was very well contented: when the wind changed, I was delighted to go. As impatience is generally my reigning distemper, you may imagine how I must be alarmed at this sudden alteration, till I happily recollected two instances, where I was myself. The one at Breda, where the innkeeper let drop, "if you mean to go," an hour and half after we had told him fifty times, that we positively would go on. The other, at Amsterdam, where we met with a very incurious gentleman, who affirmed, there was nothing worth seeing; though, beside the town, which far surpassed my imagination, there happened to be a ​most famous fair. It is long since those two verses of Dryden's Cymon are strictly applicable to me:
Her corn and cattle are her only care, And her supreme delight a country fair.
I shall forget to name my Irish friend: it is Mr. Coote. He is, in all appearance, a modest, wellbred, splenetick, good natured man. I had then one of these qualifications more than was pleasant, and so we became acquainted. He has a very great regard for you, sir; and there we agreed again. We were all highly pleased with him. He seems to have a better way of thinking than is common, and not to want for sense, or good humour. I tell you, that I do use exercise; designedly, never eat or drink what can disagree with me, but am no more certain of my stomach than of my mind; at sometimes proof against any thing, and at other times too easily shocked; but time and care can certainly make a strong defence. I will obey your commands, and so will his grace, concerning Mrs. Barber, as soon as we come to London, where we staid but three days. We are now at Amesbury; but pray, direct for me at London. I doubt we can do her but little good; for, as to my part, I have few acquaintance, and little interest. I will believe every thing you say of her, though I have hitherto ever had a natural aversion to a poetess.
I am come almost to the end of my paper, before I have half done with you. It was a rule, I remember, with poor Mr. Gay and me, never to exceed three pages. I long to hear from you, that I may ​have an excuse to write again; for I doubt it would be carrying the joke too far to trouble you too often. Adieu, dear sir, health and happiness attend you ever. I fear I have written so very ill, that I am quite unintelligible.
His grace is very much yours.