LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
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Letters and Journals of Lord Byron
Lord Byron to Thomas Moore, 4 November 1815

Life of Byron: to 1806
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Life of Byron: 1813
Life of Byron: 1814
Life of Byron: 1815
Life of Byron: 1816 (I)
Life of Byron: 1816 (II)
Life of Byron: 1817
Life of Byron: 1818
Life of Byron: 1819
Life of Byron: 1820
Life of Byron: 1821
Life of Byron: 1822
Life of Byron: 1823
Life of Byron: 1824
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“November 4th, 1815.

“Had you not bewildered my head with the ‘stocks,’ your letter would have been answered directly. Hadn’t I to go to the city? and hadn’t I to remember what to ask when I got there? and hadn’t I forgotten it?

“I should be undoubtedly delighted to see you; but I don’t like to urge against your reasons my own inclinations. Come you must soon, for stay you won’t. I know you of old;—you have been too much leavened with London to keep long out of it.

Lewis is going to Jamaica to suck his sugar-canes. He sails in two days; I enclose you his farewell note. I saw him last night at D. L. T. for the last time previous to his voyage. Poor fellow! he is really a good man—an excellent man—he left me his walking-stick and a pot of preserved ginger. I shall never eat the last without tears in my eyes, it is so hot. We have had a devil of a row among our ballerinas: Miss Smith has been wronged about a hornpipe. The Committee have interfered; but Byrne, the d—d ballet-master, won’t budge a step. I am furious, so is George Lamb. Kinnaird is very glad, because—he don’t know why; and I am very sorry, for the same reason. Today I dine with Kd.—we are to have Sheridan and Colman again; and tomorrow, once more, at Sir Gilbert Heathcote’s.

* * * * *
636 NOTICES OF THE A. D. 1815.

Leigh Hunt has written a real good and very original Poem, which I think will he a great hit. You can have no notion how very well it is written, nor should I, had I not redde it. As to us, Tom—eh, when art thou out? If you think the verses worth it, I would rather they were embalmed in the Irish Melodies, than scattered abroad in a separate song—much rather. But when are thy great things out? I mean the Po of Pos—thy Shah Nameh. It is very kind in Jeffrey to like the Hebrew Melodies. Some of the fellows here preferred Sternhold and Hopkins, and said so;—‘the fiend receive their souls therefor!’

“I must go and dress for dinner. Poor, dear Murat, what an end! You know, I suppose, that his white plume used to be a rallying point in battle, like Henry Fourth’s. He refused a confessor and a bandage;—so would neither suffer his soul or body to be bandaged. You shall have more to-morrow or next day.

“Ever, &c.”