"I was struck dumb for some time with this astonishing request; when I
recovered my vexatious surprise (foreseeing the consequence), I made
answer, I was highly sensible of the honour designed me, but, upon my
word, I had never printed a single line in my life. I was answered in a
cold tone, his Eminence could send for them to England, but they would
be a long time coming, and with some hazard; and that he had flattered
himself I would not refuse him such a favour, and I need not be ashamed
of seeing my name in a collection where he admitted none but the most
eminent authors. It was to no purpose to endeavour to convince him. He
would not stay to dinner, though earnestly invited; and went away with
the air of one that thought he had reason to be offended. I know his
master will have the same sentiments, and I shall pass in his opinion
for a monster of ingratitude, while it is the blackest of vices in my
opinion, and of which I am utterly incapable--I really could cry for
vexation.

"Sure nobody ever had such various provocations to print as myself. I
have seen things I have wrote, so mangled and falsified, I have scarce
known them. I have seen poems I never read, published with my name at
length; and others, that were truly and singly wrote by me, printed
under the names of others. I have made myself easy under all these
mortifications, by the reflection I did not deserve them, having never
aimed at the vanity of popular applause; but I own my philosophy is not
proof against losing a friend, and it may be making an enemy of one to
whom I am obliged."


In this letter to Lady Mar, in which Lady Mary explains her plight, she