Chapter CIII: Letter 497: To Mr. Moore

"Montenero, Villa Dupoy, near Leghorn, June 8. 1822.

"I have written to you twice through the medium of Murray, and on
one subject, _trite_ enough,--the loss of poor little Allegra by a
fever; on which topic I shall say no more--there is nothing but
time.

"A few days ago, my earliest and dearest friend, Lord Clare, came
over from Geneva on purpose to see me before he returned to
England. As I have always loved him (since I was thirteen, at
Harrow,) better than any (_male_) thing in the world, I need hardly
say what a melancholy pleasure it was to see him for a _day_ only;
for he was obliged to resume his journey immediately. * * * Do you
recollect, in the year of revelry 1814, the pleasantest parties and
balls all over London? and not the least so at * *'s. Do you
recollect your singing duets with Lady * *, and my flirtation with
Lady * *, and all the other fooleries of the time? while * * was
sighing, and Lady * * ogling him with her clear hazel eyes. _But_
eight years have passed, and, since that time, * * has * * * * *
*;--has run away with * * * * *; and _mysen_ (as my Nottinghamshire
friends call themselves) might as well have thrown myself out of
the window while you were singing, as intermarried where I did. You
and * * * * have come off the best of us. I speak merely of my
marriage, and its consequences, distresses, and calumnies; for I
have been much more happy, on the whole, _since_, than I ever could
have been with * *.

"I have read the recent article of Jeffrey in a faithful
transcription of the impartial Galignani. I suppose the long and
short of it is, that he wishes to provoke me to reply. But I won't,
for I owe him a good turn still for his kindness by-gone. Indeed, I
presume that the present opportunity of attacking me again was
irresistible; and I can't blame him, knowing what human nature is.
I shall make but one remark:--what does he mean by elaborate? The
whole volume was written with the greatest rapidity, in the midst
of evolutions, and revolutions, and persecutions, and proscriptions
of all who interested me in Italy. They said the same of 'Lara,'
which, _you_ know, was written amidst balls and fooleries, and
after coming home from masquerades and routs, in the summer of the
sovereigns. Of all I have ever written, they are perhaps the most
carelessly composed; and their faults, whatever they may be, are
those of negligence, and not of labour. I do not think this a
merit, but it is a fact.

"Yours ever and truly, N.B.

"P.S. You see the great advantage of my new signature;--it may
either stand for 'Nota Bene' or 'Noel Byron,' and, as such, will
save much repetition, in writing either books or letters. Since I
came here, I have been invited on board of the American squadron,
and treated with all possible honour and ceremony. They have asked
me to sit for my picture; and, as I was going away, an American
lady took a rose from me (which had been given to me by a very
pretty Italian lady that very morning), because, she said, 'She was
determined to send or take something which I had about me to
America.' _There_ is a kind of Lalla Rookh incident for you!
However, all these American honours arise, perhaps, not so much
from their enthusiasm for my 'Poeshie,' as their belief in my
dislike to the English,--in which I have the satisfaction to
coincide with them. I would rather, however, have a nod from an
American, than a snuff-box from an emperor."

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