Answer from Blue Eye

Mrs Staveley

With trembling apprehension and anxiety — oh most beloved and most amiable lady — I have observed the effects of your candid, your inestimable advertisement, and with ecstatic hope perceived the fruitless labours of the bold, the presuming, the flippant, the fastidious, who with matchless effrontery have vainly thought they were fit candidates for your favour.

How did I expect! on that smiling morn of May — when by the graceful waving of your sable plumes I saw the dignified disdain with which you repelled their approach to the place or rendezvous — and at the same time witnessed the sweet confusion, the timid glance, the anxious solicitude with which you sought the Blue eye — that eye which even then, fondly rested on yours! In humble disguise I stood, but love though timid is penetrating, patient, and persevering — and such is mine and Hope, sweet comforter tells me, that all my gay visions of delight shall be realized! How did I long to throw myself at your feet, to tell my tender tale! To do homage to your charms! To be accepted and cherished amidst such a host of envious admirers! To see them disdained, rejected, while I — oh, lot most blessed! stand confessed the happy favoured lover!

Your search after the Blue eye proves that my person is not unknown to you, and has been marked with approbation. I detest French frippery and foppery, and my taste for female dress has ever been a subject of admiration amongst ladies. My mouth will ever be adorned with smiles when you are present. Of domestic happiness could I ever cease to be enamoured when blessed with your society. Ah no!

My talents for amusement and desire to give information I am no nigard of.
I have no violent predilections for Bacchus, though he is generally esteemed a good honest fellow, but I hope you will not object to a little comfortable grog, as I confess it would not be easy to wean myself from my predilection there, but I will promise to make you every sacrifice you desire. My eyes, alas! are not hazel but blue, and blue, bright celestial blue! You can have no objection to — nay, there rest my hopes — else why was the blue eye so eagerly enquired for?

But while I trust my person is known and approved, how can I atone for my defects. Though passionately doting on muses, I never touched a flute or violin nor any instruments but a Jews-harp in all my life, but my vocal powers are not contemptible and I will fly to the sweet tenants of the grove to perfect them in the softest truest tones of love! The turtle dove shall instruct me and teach us to despise the jarring rattling din of carriage wheels, the noise and splendour of crowded cities — we will wander through woods, and wilds, we will rest on the green and grassy banks of a murmuring stream, listening to our own sweet tales of love — despising Madam Fortune and all her train, even as she despised me — for never has she at any time bestowed one single favour upon me, which I trust will not cause you to find less in your sight. Farewell for a short time, Charming Lady, and deign soon through the medium of the Attic Chest to bless with your approbation.

Your constant adorer,

The Blue Eye