_R.B. to E.B.B._
[Post-mark, May 26, 1845.]
Nay--I _must_ have last word--as all people in the wrong desire to
have--and then, no more of the subject. You said I had given you
_great pain_--so long as I stop _that_, think anything of me you
choose or can! But _before_ your former letter came, I saw the
pre-ordained uselessness of mine. Speaking is to some _end_, (apart
from foolish self-relief, which, after all, I can do without)--and
where there is _no_ end--you see! or, to finish
characteristically--since the offering to cut off one's right-hand to
save anybody a headache, is in vile taste, even for our melodramas,
seeing that it was never yet believed in on the stage or off it,--how
much worse to really make the ugly chop, and afterwards come
sheepishly in, one's arm in a black sling, and find that the
delectable gift had changed aching to nausea! There! And now, 'exit,
prompt-side, nearest door, Luria'--and enter R.B.--next Wednesday,--as
boldly as he suspects most people do just after they have been soundly
frightened!
I shall be most happy to see you on the day and at the hour you
mention.
God bless you, my dear friend,