To MR. HODGSON

_Travel in Portugal_

Lisbon, 16 _July_, 1809.

Thus far have we pursued our route, and seen all sorts of marvellous

sights, palaces, convents, &c.,--which, being to be heard in my friend

Hobhouse's forthcoming Book of Travels, I shall not anticipate by

smuggling any account whatsoever to you in a private and clandestine

manner. I must just observe, that the village of Cintra in Estremadura

is the most beautiful, perhaps, in the world.

I am very happy here, because I loves oranges, and talks bad Latin

to the monks, who understand it, as it is like their own,--and I goes

into society (with my pocket pistols), and I swims in the Tagus

all across at once, and I rides on an ass or a mule, and swears

Portuguese, and have got bites from the mosquitoes. But what of that?

Comfort must not be expected by folks that go a-pleasuring.

When the Portuguese are pertinacious, I say '_Carracho_!'--the

great oath of the grandees, that very well supplies the place of

'Damme!'--and when dissatisfied with my neighbour, I pronounce

him '_Ambra di merdo_'. With these two phrases, and a third,'_Avra

bouro_', which signifieth 'Get an ass', I am universally understood to

be a person of degree and a master of languages. How merrily we

lives that travellers be!--if we had food and raiment. But, in sober

sadness, anything is better than England, and I am infinitely amused

with my pilgrimage, as far as it has gone.

To-morrow we start to ride post near 400 miles as far as Gibraltar,

where we embark for Melita and Byzantium. A letter to Malta will find

me, or to be forwarded, if I am absent. Pray embrace the Drury and

Dwyer, and all the Ephesians you encounter. I am writing with Butler's

donative pencil, which makes my bad hand worse. Excuse illegibility.

Hodgson! send me the news, and the deaths and defeats and capital

crimes and the misfortunes of one's friends; and let us hear of

literary matters, and the controversies and the criticisms. All this

will be pleasant--'_Suave mari magno_, &c.' Talking of that, I have

been sea-sick, and sick of the sea. Adieu.

Selected English Letters (XV-XIX Centuries) · 第 334 / 402 题