Some late domestic events, of which you are probably aware, prevented my
letter from being sent before; indeed, I hardly conceived you would have
so hastily thrust my productions into the hands of a Stranger, who could
be as little pleased by receiving them, as their author is at their
being offered, in such a manner, and to such a Man.
My address, when I leave Newstead, will be to "Rochdale, Lancashire;"
but I have not yet fixed the day of departure, and I will apprise you
when ready to set off.
You have placed me in a very ridiculous situation, but it is past, and
nothing more is to be said on the subject. You hinted to me that you
wished some alterations to be made; if they have nothing to do with
politics or religion, I will make them with great readiness.
I am, Sir, etc., etc., BYRON.
[Footnote 1: As soon as Byron came to town, he was a frequent visitor at
32, Fleet Street, while the sheets of 'Childe Harold' were passing
through the press.
"Fresh from the fencing rooms of Angelo and Jackson, he used to amuse
himself by renewing his practice of 'Carte et Tierce', with his
walking-cane directed against the bookshelves, while Murray was
reading passages from the poem with occasional ejaculations of
admiration, on which Byron would say, 'You think that a good idea, do
you, Murray?' Then he would fence and lunge with his walking-stick at
some special book which he had picked out on the shelves before him.
As Murray afterwards said, 'I was often very glad to get rid of him!'"
(Smiles's 'Memoir of John Murray', vol.
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