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A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It was unbelievable. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Kneebone said, just now. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way.
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