Since the pictures are so bad—they need not be copied—the poor painter seems to have been ignorant of the art of flattery.—It is to be recollected that I was ill at the time—& had been so for months—that one of them was done in the climax of a slow fever—and that the other is an attempt to supply the health which I had not recovered.—Send me Holmes’s print—one or two copies—they can come by the common post—not being heavy.—The last (the Venice) need not be copied.
I fear that not any good can be done by your speaking to Ly Biron (sic)—but I think it my duty to give fair warning—because they have broken their word;—they are not aware that if I please I can dissolve the separation—which is not a legal act—nor further binding than the will of the parties; I shall therefore not only take all proper and legal steps—but the former correspondence shall be published—& the whole business from the beginning investigated in all the courts of which it is susceptible;—unless the reasonable assurance which I have required with regard to my daughter be accorded—& now—come what may—as I have said—so will I do & have already given the proper instructions to the proper persons—to prepare for the steps above mentioned.——
[A half sheet, partly written upon by Lord Byron, is here torn off, and the letter continues on another and smaller sheet as follows.]
Recollect only that I have done all in my power to avoid this extremity.——
I am not at Venice but a few miles on the mainland—on the road to Padua—address as usual to Venice. I ride daily.——
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| ASTARTE |
P.S. I repeat to you again and again—that it would be much better at once to explain your mysteries—than to go on with this absurd obscure hinting mode of writing. What do you mean? what is there known? or can be known? which you & I do not know much better? & what concealment can you have from me? I1 never shrank—and it was on your account principally that I gave way at all—for I thought they would endeavour to drag you into it—although they had no business with anything previous to my2 marriage with that infernal fiend, whose destruction I shall yet see. Do you suppose that I will rest while any of their branch is unwithered? do you suppose that I will turn aside till they are trodden under foot? do you suppose that I can breathe till they are uprooted? Do you believe that time will alter them or me? that I have suffered in vain—that I have been disgraced in vain—that I am reconciled to the sting of the scorpion—& the venom of the serpent? which stung me in my slumber? If I did not believe—that Time & Nemesis—& circumstances would requite me for the delay—I would ere this have righted myself.—But “let them look to their bond”
