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Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron, 1788-1824

"The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals, Volume 2"

I don't know why, but I
hate to see the _old_ ones lose; particularly Sheridan, notwithstanding
all his _mechancete_.
Received many, and the kindest, thanks from Lady Portsmouth, _pere_ and
_mere_, for my match-making. I don't regret it, as she looks the
countess well, and is a very good girl. It is odd how well she carries
her new honours. She looks a different woman, and high-bred, too. I had
no idea that I could make so good a peeress.
Went to the play with Hobhouse. Mrs. Jordan superlative in Hoyden, [3]
and Jones well enough in Foppington. _What plays_! what wit!--_helas_!
Congreve and Vanbrugh are your only comedy. Our society is too insipid
now for the like copy. Would _not_ go to Lady Keith's. Hobhouse thought
it odd. I wonder _he_ should like parties. If one is in love, and wants
to break a commandment and covet any thing that is there, they do very
well. But to go out amongst the mere herd, without a motive, pleasure,
or pursuit--'sdeath! "I'll none of it." He told me an odd report,--that
_I_ am the actual Conrad, the veritable Corsair, and that part of my
travels are supposed to have passed in privacy. Um!--people sometimes
hit near the truth; but never the whole truth. H. don't know what I was
about the year after he left the Levant; nor does any one--nor--
--nor--nor--however, it is a lie--but, "I doubt the equivocation of the
fiend that lies like truth!" [4]
I shall have letters of importance to-morrow. Which,----,----, or
----? heigho!------is in my heart,----in my head,----in my eye,
and the _single_ one, Heaven knows where.


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