Autobiography, Letters and Literary Remains of Mrs. Piozzi - Part 10
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Part 10

"_May_, 1781.--Sophy Streatfield is an incomprehensible girl; here has she been telling me such tender pa.s.sages of what pa.s.sed between her and Mr. Thrale, that she half frights me somehow, at the same time declaring her attachment to Vyse yet her willingness to marry Lord Loughborough. Good G.o.d! what an uncommon girl! and handsome almost to perfection, I think: delicate in her manners, soft in her voice, and strict in her principles: I never saw such a character, she is wholly out of my reach; and I can only say that the man who runs mad for Sophy Streatfield has no reason to be ashamed of his pa.s.sion; few people, however, seem disposed to take her for life--everybody's admiration, as Mrs. Byron says, and n.o.body's choice.

"_Streatham, January 1st_, 1782.--Sophy Streatfield has begun the new year nicely with a new conquest. Poor dear Doctor Burney! _he_ is now the reigning favourite, and she spares neither pains nor caresses to turn that good man's head, much to the vexation of his family; particularly my f.a.n.n.y, who is naturally provoked to see sport made of her father in his last stage of life by a young coquet, whose sole employment in this world seems to have been winning men's hearts on purpose to fling them away. How she contrives to keep bishops, and brewers, and doctors, and directors of the East India Company, all in chains so, and almost all at the same time, would amaze a wiser person than me; I can only say let us mark the end! Hester will perhaps see her out and p.r.o.nounce, like Solon, on her wisdom and conduct."

As this lady has excited great interest, and was much with the Thrales, I will add what I have been able to ascertain concerning her. She is frequently mentioned in Madame D'Arblay's Diary:

"_Streatham, Sept_. 1778.--To be sure she (Mrs. Thrale) saw it was not totally disagreeable to me; though I was really astounded when she hinted at my becoming a rival to Miss Streatfield in the Doctor's good graces.

"'I had a long letter,' she said, 'from Sophy Streatfield t'other day, and she sent Dr. Johnson her elegant edition of the 'Cla.s.sics;'

but when he had read the letter, he said 'she is a sweet creature, and I love her much; but my little Burney writes a better letter.'

Now,' continued she, 'that is just what I wished him to say of you both.'"

"_Streatham, Sept_. 1779.--Mr. Seward, you know, told me that she had tears at command, and I begin to think so too, for when Mrs. Thrale, who had previously told me I should see her cry, began coaxing her to stay, and saying, 'If you go, I shall know you don't love me so well as Lady Gresham,'--she did cry, not loud indeed, nor much, but the tears came into her eyes, and rolled down her fine cheeks.

"'Come hither, Miss Burney,' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'come and see Miss Streatfield cry!'

"I thought it a mere _badinage_. I went to them, but when I saw real tears, I was shocked, and saying, 'No, I won't look at her,' ran away frightened, lest she should think I laughed at her, which Mrs. Thrale did so openly, that, as I told her, had she served me so, I should have been affronted with her ever after.

"Miss Streatfield, however, whether from a sweetness not to be ruffled, or from not perceiving there was any room for taking offence, gently wiped her eyes, and was perfectly composed!"

"_Streatham, June_, 1779.--Seward, said Mrs. Thrale, had affronted Johnson, and then Johnson affronted Seward, and then the S.S. cried.

"_Sir Philip_ (_Clerke_).--Well, I have heard so much of these tears, that I would give the universe to have a sight of them.

"_Mrs. Thrale_.--Well, she shall cry again, if you like it.

"_S.S._.--No, pray, Mrs. Thrale.

"_Sir Philip_.--Oh, pray do! pray let me see a little of it.

"_Mrs. Thrale_.--Yes, do cry a little Sophy [in a wheedling voice], pray do! Consider, now, you are going to-day, and it's very hard if you won't cry a little: indeed, S.S., you ought to cry.

"Now for the wonder of wonders. When Mrs. Thrale, in a coaxing voice, suited to a nurse soothing a baby, had run on for some time,--while all the rest of us, in laughter, joined in the request,--two crystal tears came into the soft eyes of the S.S., and rolled gently down her cheeks! Such a sight I never saw before, nor could I have believed.

She offered not to conceal or dissipate them: on the contrary, she really contrived to have them seen by everybody. She looked, indeed, uncommonly handsome; for her pretty face was not, like Chloe's, blubbered; it was smooth and elegant, and neither her features nor complexion were at all ruffled; nay, indeed, she was smiling all the time.

"'Look, look!' cried Mrs. Thrale; 'see if the tears are not come already.'

"Loud and rude bursts of laughter broke from us all at once. How, indeed, could they be restrained?"

"_Streatham, Sunday, June_ 13, 1779.--After church we all strolled round the grounds, and the topic of our discourse was Miss Streatfield. Mrs. Thrale a.s.serted that she had a power of captivation that was irresistible; that her beauty, joined to her softness, her caressing manners, her tearful eyes, and alluring looks, would insinuate her into the heart of any man she thought worth attacking.

"Sir Philip declared himself of a totally different opinion, and quoted Dr. Johnson against her, who had told him that, taking away her Greek, she was as ignorant as a b.u.t.terfly.

"Mr. Seward declared her Greek was all against her with him, for that, instead of reading Pope, Swift, or the Spectator--books from which she might derive useful knowledge and improvement--it had led her to devote all her reading time to the first eight books of Homer.

"'But,' said Mrs. Thrale, 'her Greek, you must own, has made all her celebrity;--you would have heard no more of her than of any other pretty girl, but for that.'

"'What I object to,' said Sir Philip, 'is her avowed preference for this parson. Surely it is very indelicate in any lady to let all the world know with whom she is in love!"

"'The parson,' said the severe Mr. Seward, 'I suppose, spoke first,--or she would as soon have been in love with you, or with me!'

"You will easily believe I gave him no pleasant look."

The parson was the Rev. Dr. Vyse, Rector of Lambeth. He had made an imprudent marriage early in life, and was separated from his wife, of whom he hoped to get rid either by divorce or by her death, as she was reported to be in bad health. Under these circ.u.mstances, he had entered into a conditional engagement with the fair S.S.; but eventually threw her over, either in despair at his wife's longevity or from caprice. On the mention of his name by Boswell, Mrs. Piozzi writes opposite: "whose connection with Sophia Streatfield was afterwards so much talked about, and I suppose never understood: certainly not at all by H.L.P." To return to the D'Arblay Diary:

"_Streatham, June_ 14, 1781.--We had my dear father and Sophy Streatfield, who, as usual, was beautiful, caressing, amiable, sweet, and--fatiguing."

"_Streatham, Aug_. 1781.--Some time after Sophy Streatfield was talked of,--Oh, with how much impertinence! as if she was at the service of any man who would make proposals to her! Yet Mr. Seward spoke of her with praise and tenderness all the time, as if, though firmly of this opinion, he was warmly her admirer. From such admirers and such admiration Heaven guard me! Mr. Crutchley said but little; but that little was bitter enough.

"'However,' said Mr. Seward, 'after all that can be said, there is n.o.body whose manners are more engaging, n.o.body more amiable than the little Sophy; and she is certainly very pretty; I must own I have always been afraid to trust myself with her.'

"Here Mr. Crutchley looked very sneeringly.

"'Nay, 'squire,' cried Mr. Seward, 'she is very dangerous, I can tell you; and if she had you at a fair trial, she would make an impression that would soften-even your hard heart.'

"'No need of any further trial,' said he, laughing, 'for she has done that already; and so soft was the impression that it absolutely all dissolved!--melted quite away, and not a trace of it left!'

"Mr. Seward then proposed that she should marry Sir John Miller, who has just lost his wife; and very gravely said, he had a great mind to set out for Tunbridge, and carry her with him to Bath, and so make the match without delay!

"'But surely,' said Mrs. Thrale, 'if you fail, you will think yourself bound in honour to marry her yourself?'

"'Why, that's the thing,' said he; 'no, I can't take the little Sophy myself; I should have too many rivals; rivals; no, that won't do.'

"How abominably conceited and _sure_ these pretty gentlemen are!

However, Mr. Crutchley here made a speech that half won my heart.

"'I wish,' said he, 'Miss Streatfield was here at this moment to cuff you, Seward!'

"'Cuff me,' cried he. 'What, the little Sophy!--and why?'

"'For disposing of her so freely. I think a man deserves to be cuffed for saying _any_ lady will marry him.'

"I seconded this speech with much approbation."

"_London, Jan._ 1783.--Before they went came Miss Streatfield, looking pale, but very elegant and pretty. She was in high spirits, and I hope has some reason. She made, at least, speeches that provoked such surmises. When the Jacksons went,--

"'That,' said I, 'is the celebrated Jackson of Exeter; I dare say you would like him if you knew him.'

"'I dare say I should,' cried she, simpering; 'for he has the two requisites for me,--he is tall and thin.'

"To be sure, this did not at all call for raillery! Dr. Vyse has always been distinguished by these two epithets. I said, however, nothing, as my mother was present; but she would not let my looks pa.s.s unnoticed.

"'Oh!' cried she, 'how wicked you look!--No need of seeing Mrs.

Siddons for expression!--However, you know how much that is my taste,--tall and thin!--but you don't know how _apropos_ it is just now!'"

Nine years after the last entry, we find:

"_May_ 25, 1792.--We now met Mrs. Porteous; and who should be with her but the poor pretty S.S., whom so long I had not seen, and who has now lately been finally given up by her long-sought and very injurious lover, Dr. Vyse?