“A few days ago, I wrote to you a letter, requesting you to desire Hanson to desire his messenger to come on from Geneva to Venice, because I won’t go from Venice to Geneva; and if this is not done, the messenger may be damned, with him who mis-sent him. Pray reiterate my request.
“With the proofs returned, I sent two additional stanzas for Canto Fourth: did they arrive?
“Your monthly reviewer has made a mistake: Cavaliere, alone, is well enough; but ‘Cavalier’ servente’ has always the e mute in conversation, and omitted in writing; so that it is not for the sake of metre; and pray let Griffiths know this, with my compliments. I humbly conjecture that I know as much of Italian society and language as any of his people; but, to make assurance doubly sure, I asked, at the Countess Benzona’s last night, the question of more than one person in the office, and of these ‘cavalieri serventi’ (in the plural, recollect) I found that they all accorded in pronouncing for ‘cavalier’ servente’ in the singular number. I wish Mr. * * * (or whoever Griffiths’ scribbler may be) would not talk of what he don’t understand. Such fellows are not fit to be intrusted with Italian, even in a quotation.
“Did you receive two additional stanzas, to be inserted towards the close of Canto Fourth? Respond, that (if not) they may be sent.
“Tell Mr. * * and Mr. Hanson that they may as well expect Geneva to come to me, as that I should go to Geneva. The messenger may go on or return, as he pleases; I won’t stir: and I look upon it as a piece of singular absurdity in those who know me imagining that I should—not to say malice, in attempting unnecessary torture. If, on the occasion, my interests should suffer, it is their neglect that is to blame; and they may all be d——d together.
“It is ten o’clock and time to dress.
