“Write while you can; for it is but the toss up of a paul that
     there will not be a row that will somewhat retard the mail by and
     by.

     “Yours,” &c.

* * * * *

LETTER 369.  TO MR. HOPPNER.

     “Ravenna, April 18. 1820.

“I have caused write to Siri and Willhalm to send with Vincenza, in a boat, the camp-beds and swords left in their care when I quitted Venice.  There are also several pounds of Mantons best powder in a Japan case; but unless I felt sure of getting it away from V. without seizure, I won’t have it ventured.  I can get it in here, by means of an acquaintance in the customs, who has offered to get it ashore for me; but should like to be certiorated of its safety in leaving Venice.  I would not lose it for its weight in gold—­there is none such in Italy, as I take it to be.

“I wrote to you a week or so ago, and hope you are in good plight and spirits.  Sir Humphry Davy is here, and was last night at the Cardinal’s.  As I had been there last Sunday, and yesterday was warm, I did not go, which I should have done, if I had thought of meeting the man of chemistry.  He called this morning, and I shall go in search of him at Corso time.  I believe to-day, being Monday, there is no great conversazione, and only the family one at the Marchese Cavalli’s, where I go as a relation sometimes, so that, unless he stays a day or two, we should hardly meet in public.

“The theatre is to open in May for the fair, if there is not a row in all Italy by that time,—­the Spanish business has set them all a constitutioning, and what will be the end, no one knows—­it is also necessary thereunto to have a beginning.

     “Yours, &c.

     “P.S.  My benediction to Mrs. Hoppner.  How is your little boy? 
     Allegra is growing, and has increased in good looks and obstinacy.”

* * * * *

LETTER 370.  TO MR. MURRAY.

     “Ravenna, April 23. 1820.

     “The proofs don’t contain the last stanzas of Canto second, but
     end abruptly with the 105th stanza.

“I told you long ago that the new Cantos[72] were not good, and I also told you a reason.  Recollect, I do not oblige you to publish them; you may suppress them, if you like, but I can alter nothing.  I have erased the six stanzas about those two impostors * * * * (which I suppose will give you great pleasure), but I can do no more.  I can neither recast, nor replace; but I give you leave to put it all into the fire, if you like, or not to publish, and I think that’s sufficient.

“I told you that I wrote on with no good will—­that I had been, not frightened, but hurt by the outcry, and, besides,