“The devil alone, at my back, bestriding the promontory of the fiery flood, can account for my silence. When Mr. Shepherd presented your friendly note, he found me wrestling with him; and I can but just now say that I have, I hope, got the better of him. Some other things have been done, indeed, in the mean time, when I wanted to recover breath, but still I wished not to write, till I could with decision, about him. All this, however, must be the subject of my next.
“I thank you for having made me acquainted with
Shepherd. He is a man whom I think
of as you do. I got as much of his company here as he thought proper to give
me; we ate and drank together, but he went off without an adieu. If he was
offended at my manner of pronouncing Greek verse, and confounding omicrons and
omegas like Tros and Rutulus, I promise to make amends when we meet again. The
infernal storm that inundates the street and bespatters my window whilst I am
writing, equal to Dante’s
‘Pioggia maledetta eterna e
greve,’ confounding all season, and cloaking the face of
day, makes it indeed totally indifferent what month I picked for travel, even
to those who have only to please themselves in choosing. My intention was, if I
do come, to choose the time
| 352 | LIFE OF WILLIAM ROSCOE. |
