(1948–59). Can the phrase ever have been seriously used outside the confines of that programme? Earlier citations are lacking.
dish See CAN DISH IT.
ditchwater See DULL AS.
diver See DON’T FORGET.
divide and rule A way of overcoming opposition – by breaking it down and then conquering it. Originally expressed in Latin: divide et impera. Philip of Macedon and Louis XI of France are among the many who have subscribed to it, but Machiavelli is generally credited with having popularized the maxim.
divine discontent Dissatisfaction with life as it is but which can give rise to hope. Most often used in a religious context and frequently attributed to St Augustine who does not, however, appear to have used the phrase, although at the start of his Confessions he did write: ‘Thou awakest us to delight in Thy praise; for Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee.’ The earliest citation to hand is from Charles Kingsley in a pamphlet Health and Education (1874): ‘To be discontented with the divine discontent, and to be ashamed with the noble shame, is the very germ and first upgrowth of all virtue.’ There is a ‘divine despair’ in Tennyson’s The Princess (1847). ‘[Of Mole] Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing’ – Kenneth Grahame, The Wind In the Willows, Chap. 1 (1908).
dizzy heights Meaning, ‘a position of success’ (while hinting at its dangers). Date of origin unknown. A cliché by the mid-20th century. Sometimes used nonfiguratively: ‘Steel-erectors…walk along girders at dizzy heights as though they were strolling along Piccadilly’ – Radio Times (25 July 1958); ‘But with Saints on a roll, Ball dearly wants to climb even further from their dizzy heights of eighth spot, Everton will find it tough’ – Daily Mirror (8 October 1994); ‘Poor Kylie’s having a tough time. Her new single entered the charts at the dizzy heights of number 17, the Virgin 1215 poster campaign screaming “We’ve done something to improve Kylie’s songs. Banned them” started, and now she’s being sued over her last single “Confide In Me”’ – Daily Record (26 November 1994); ‘If the comparisons are extreme it is because England’s cricket has had so little to commend it, or to truly excite its audience, that the dizzy heights of Gough’s daring retaliation deserved exaggeration’ – The Daily Telegraph (3 January 1995).
(to) do a Thomas à Becket This phrase is used to suggest a possible course of action, in a general sense, that is then interpreted by others more positively than might have been the speaker’s actual intention. King Henry II’s rhetorical question regarding Thomas à Becket, ‘Will no man rid me of this turbulent priest?’ (which was acted upon by the Archbishop’s murderers in 1170) is ascribed to ‘oral tradition’ by ODQ in the form: ‘Will no one revenge me of the injuries I have sustained from one turbulent priest?’ The young king, who was in Normandy, had received reports that the Archbishop was ready ‘to tear the crown from’ his head. ‘What a pack of fools and cowards I have nourished in my house,’ he cried, according to another version, ‘that not one of them will avenge me of this turbulent priest!’ Yet another version has, ‘…of this upstart clerk’. An example of the phrase used allusively in a tape-recorded conversation was played at the conspiracy-to-murder trial involving Jeremy Thorpe MP in 1979. Andrew Newton was heard to say, speaking of the alleged plot: ‘They feel a Thomas à Becket was done, you know, with Thorpe sort of raving, “Would nobody rid me of this man?”’ The name is now more commonly written ‘Thomas Becket’.
(to) do a two six ‘To do something very speedily and promptly’. Mr E. Pettinger, Lanarkshire, inquired (1993) about a saying ‘which was common among RAF ground staff when I was serving between 1945 and 1948. It was said when help was required in opening or closing the big hangar doors – “Two Six on the hangar doors!” I can still visualise the response following the shout. One had to stop what one was doing and help to push the enormous sliding doors.’ Partridge/Slang dates it from 1930. Compare one-two, one-two, which a military person might bark with the same intention. Possibly from gun-drill – the number of a command in an instruction booklet? Paul Beale commented: ‘Numbers Two and Six were part of the guncrew in Nelson’s navy, or soon after, whose arduous task it was to heave the cannon back after firing so that Number something-else could swab it out, and yet another Number reload for (probably) Number One to light and fire again.’
doctor See IS THERE A.
Doctor Greasepaint (or Doctor Theatre) will cure me Both versions of this theatrical saying were quoted in obituaries for the actress Irene Handl in November 1987 as phrases that had been used by her. The saying suggests that acting is not only a cure for ailments but also that actors have to be well most of the time to be able to perform their function. The actor Bernard Bresslaw commented in 1991 that his preference was for Doctor Footlights will cure me. Compare (the) best doctors in the world are Doctor Diet, Doctor Quiet and Doctor Merryman. This nannyish sentiment goes back to Jonathan Swift who included it among the clichés of Polite Conversation (1738). Nay, even further: Apperson has a citation from 1558 and the idea may be found in a poem by Lidgate (1449). The creation of an imaginary doctor’s name can also be found in the nickname Dr Brighton for the healthy seaside resort.
Doctor Livingstone, I presume? Now a catchphrase used on meeting someone unexpectedly or after an arduous journey, this famous greeting was put by (Sir) Henry Morton Stanley, the explorer and journalist, to the explorer and missionary Dr David Livingstone at Ujiji, Lake Tanganyika, on 10 November 1871. Stanley had been sent by the New York Herald to look for Livingstone, who was missing on a journey in central Africa. In How I Found Livingstone (1872), Stanley described the moment: ‘I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob – would have embraced him, only, he being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing – walked deliberately to him, took off my hat and said: “Dr Livingstone, I presume?” “Yes,” said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly.’
doctors wear scarlet Phrase put on invitations to university gatherings – ‘Evening dress with decorations, doctors wear scarlet’ – referring to the scarlet academic robes worn by doctors of law and divinity, and so on. Doctors Wear Scarlet is the title of a novel (1960) by Simon Raven and is set in Cambridge University, involving certain bloody goings-on thereat.
dodgy! Rather as the British upper classes tend to rely on two adjectives – ‘fascinating’ and ‘boring’ – so, too, did the comedian Norman Vaughan (1923–2002) in the 1960s. Accompanied by an upward gesture of the thumb, his swinging! was the equivalent of upper-class ‘fascinating’ and (with a downward gesture of the thumb) his ‘dodgy!’, the equivalent of their ‘boring’. Vaughan commented in 1979: ‘The words “swinging” and “dodgy” came originally from my association with jazz musicians and just seemed to creep into everyday conversation. Then when I got the big break at the Palladium [introducing ITV’s Sunday Night at the London Palladium in 1962] they were the first catchphrases that the papers and then the public seized upon.’ According to Anthony Howard and Richard West, The Making of the Prime Minister 1964, the Labour Party considered using the word ‘swinging’ with an upraised thumb as the basis of its advertising campaign prior to the 1964 General Election. Doubts were expressed, however, whether everyone would get the allusion and only the thumb was used. Although not, of course, the first person to use the word, Vaughan’s use of ‘swinging’ helped to characterize an era – the SWINGING SIXTIES. During his Palladium stint he also introduced the format
