LORD  BYRON  and  his  TIMES
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Letters and Journals of Lord Byron
Lord Byron to Thomas Moore, 8 March 1815

Life of Byron: to 1806
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Life of Byron: 1816 (I)
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Life of Byron: 1824
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March 8th, 1815.

“An event—the death of poor Dorset—and the recollection of what I once felt, and ought to have felt now, but could not—set me pondering, and finally into the train of thought which you have in your hands. I am very glad you like them, for I flatter myself they will pass as an imitation of your style. If I could imitate it well, I should have no great ambition of originality—I wish I could make you exclaim with Dennis, ‘That’s my thunder, by G—d!’ I wrote them with a view to your setting them, and as a present to Power, if he would accept the words, and you did not think yourself degraded, for once in a way, by marrying them to music.

“Sunburn N * *!—why do you always twit me with his vile Ebrew nasalities? Have I not told you it was all K.’s doing, and my own exquisite facility of temper? But thou wilt be a wag, Thomas; and see what you get for it. Now for my revenge.

“Depend—and perpend—upon it that your opinion of * *’s Poem
610 NOTICES OF THE A. D. 1815.
will travel through one or other of the quintuple correspondents, till it reaches the ear and the liver of the author. Your adventure, however, is truly laughable—but how could you be such a potatoe? You, ‘a brother’ (of the quill) too, ‘near the throne,’ to confide to a man’s own publisher (who has ‘bought,’ or rather sold, ‘golden opinions’ about him) such a damnatory parenthesis! ‘Between you and me,’ quotha—it reminds me of a passage in the
Heir at Law—‘Tête-à-tête with Lady Duberly, I suppose’—‘No—tête-à-tête with five hundred people;’ and your confidential communication will doubtless be in circulation to that amount, in a short time, with several additions, and in several letters, all signed L. H. R. O. B., &c. &c &c.

“We leave this place to-morrow, and shall stop on our way to town (in the interval of taking a house there) at Col. Leigh’s, near Newmarket, where any epistle of yours will find its welcome way.

“I have been very comfortable here,—listening to that d—d monologue, which elderly gentlemen call conversation, and in which my pious father-in-law repeats himself every evening—save one, when he played upon the fiddle. However, they have been very kind and hospitable, and I like them and the place vastly, and I hope they will live many happy months. Bell is in health, and unvaried good-humour and behaviour. But we are all in the agonies of packing and parting; and I suppose by this time to-morrow I shall be stuck in the chariot with my chin upon a band-box. I have prepared, however, another carriage for the abigail, and all the trumpery which our wives drag along with them.

“Ever thine, most affectionately,