Thursday [Oct. 22], 1822.

“Ali Pacha” will do.  I sent my sister the first night, not having been able to go myself, and her report of its effect was most favourable.  I saw it last night—­the third night—­and it was most satisfactorily received.  I have been sadly disappointed in Talfourd, who does the critiques in the “Times,” and who promised his strenuous services; but by some damn’d arrangement he was sent to the wrong house, and a most iniquitous account of Ali substituted for his, which I am sure would have been a kind one.  The “Morning Herald” did it ample justice, without appearing to puff it.  It is an abominable misrepresentation of the “Times,” that Farren played Ali like Lord Ogilby.  He acted infirmity of body, but not of voice or purpose.  His manner was even grand.  A grand old gentleman.  His falling to the earth when his son’s death was announced was fine as anything I ever saw.  It was as if he had been blasted.  Miss Foote looked helpless and beautiful, and greatly helped the piece.  It is going on steadily, I am sure, for many nights.  Marry, I was a little disappointed with Hassan, who tells us he subsists by cracking court jests before Hali, but he made none.  In all the rest, scenery and machinery, it was faultless.  I hope it will bring you here.  I should be most glad of that.  I have a room for you, and you shall order your own dinner three days in the week.  I must retain my own authority for the rest.  As far as magazines go, I can answer for Talfourd in the “New Monthly.”  He cannot be put out there.  But it is established as a favourite, and can do without these expletives.  I long to talk over with you the Shakspeare Picture.  My doubts of its being a forgery mainly rest upon the goodness of the picture.  The bellows might be trumped up, but where did the painter spring from?  Is Ireland a consummate artist—­or any of Ireland’s accomplices?—­but we shall confer upon it, I hope.  The “New Times,” I understand was favorable to “Ali,” but I have not seen it.  I am sensible of the want of method in this letter, but I have been deprived of the connecting organ, by a practice I have fallen into since I left Paris, of taking too much strong spirits of a night.  I must return to the Hotel de l’Europe and Macon.

How is Kenney?  Have you seen my friend White?  What is Poole about, &c.?  Do not write, but come and answer me.

The weather is charming, and there is a mermaid to be seen in London.  You may not have the opportunity of inspecting such a Poisarde once again in ten centuries.

My sister joins me in the hope of seeing you.

Yours truly,

C. LAMB.

[Lamb had met John Howard Payne, the American dramatist, at Kenney’s, in France.  “Ali Pacha,” a melodrama in two acts, was produced at Covent Garden on October 19, 1822.  It ran altogether sixteen nights.  William Farren played the hero.  Lord Ogleby, an antiquated fop, is a character in “The Clandestine Marriage” by Colman and Garrick.  Miss Foote played Helena.  See notes to the letter above for other references.]