"Ravenna, October 17. 1820.
"You owe me two letters--pay them. I want to know what you are
about. The summer is over, and you will be back to Paris. Apropos
of Paris, it was not Sophia _Gail_, but Sophia _Gay_--the English
word _Gay_--who was my correspondent.[1] Can you tell who she is,
as you did of the defunct * *?
"Have you gone on with your Poem? I have received the French of
mine. Only think of being _traduced_ into a foreign language in
such an abominable travesty! It is useless to rail, but one can't
help it.
"Have you got my Memoir copied? I have begun a continuation. Shall
I send it you, as far as it is gone?
"I can't say any thing to you about Italy, for the Government here
look upon me with a suspicious eye, as I am well informed. Pretty
fellows!--as if I, a solitary stranger, could do any mischief. It
is because I am fond of rifle and pistol shooting, I believe; for
they took the alarm at the quantity of cartridges I consumed,--the
wiseacres!
"You don't deserve a long letter--nor a letter at all--for your
silence. You have got a new Bourbon, it seems, whom they have
christened 'Dieu-donné;'--perhaps the honour of the present may be
disputed. Did you write the good lines on ----, the Laker? * *
"The Queen has made a pretty theme for the journals. Was there ever
such evidence published? Why, it is worse than 'Little's Poems' or
'Don Juan.' If you don't write soon, I will 'make you a speech.'
Yours," &c.
[Footnote 1: I had mistaken the name of the lady he enquired after, and
reported her to him as dead. But, on the receipt of the above letter, I
discovered that his correspondent was Madame Sophie Gay, mother of the
celebrated poetess and beauty, Mademoiselle Delphine Gay.]
* * * * *