Browning promised to consider the suggestion.  Six weeks later, in company with Forster, with whom he had become intimate, he called upon Macready, to discuss the plot of a tragedy which he had pondered.  He told the tragedian how deeply he had been impressed by his performance of “Othello,” and how this had deflected his intention from a modern and European to an Oriental and ancient theme.  “Browning said that I had bit him by my performance of ‘Othello,’ and I told him I hoped I should make the blood come.”  The “blood” had come in the guise of a drama-motive based on the crucial period in the career of Narses, the eunuch-general of Justinian.  Macready liked the suggestion, though he demurred to one or two points in the outline:  and before Browning left he eagerly pressed him to “go on with ‘Narses.’” But whether Browning mistrusted his own interest in the theme, or was dubious as to the success with which Macready would realise his conception, or as to the reception a play of such a nature would win from an auditory no longer reverent of high dramatic ideals, he gave up the idea.  Some three months later (May 26th) he enjoyed another eventful evening.  It was the night of the first performance of Talfourd’s “Ion,” and he was among the personal friends of Macready who were invited to the supper at Talfourd’s rooms.  After the fall of the curtain, Browning, Forster, and other friends sought the tragedian and congratulated him upon the success both of the play and of his impersonation of the chief character.  They then adjourned to the house of the author of “Ion.”  To his surprise and gratification Browning found himself placed next but one to his host, and immediately opposite Macready, who sat between two gentlemen, one calm as a summer evening, and the other with a tempestuous youth dominating his sixty years, whom the young poet at once recognised as Wordsworth and Walter Savage Landor.  Every one was in good spirits:  the host perhaps most of all, who was celebrating his birthday as well as the success of “Ion.”  Possibly Macready was the only person who felt at all bored—­unless it was Landor—­for Wordsworth was not, at such a function, an entertaining conversationalist.  There is much significance in the succinct entry in Macready’s journal concerning the Lake-poet—­“Wordsworth, who pinned me.” ...  When Talfourd rose to propose the toast of “The Poets of England” every one probably expected that Wordsworth would be named to respond.  But with a kindly grace the host, after flattering remarks upon the two great men then honouring him by sitting at his table, coupled his toast with the name of the youngest of the poets of England—­“Mr. Robert Browning, the author of ‘Paracelsus.’” It was a very proud moment for Browning, singled out among that brilliant company:  and it is pleasant to know, on the authority of Miss Mitford, who was present, that “he performed his task with grace and modesty,” looking, the amiable lady adds, even younger than he was.  Perhaps, however, he was prouder still when Wordsworth leaned across the table, and with stately affability said, “I am proud to drink your health, Mr. Browning:”  when Landor, also, with a superbly indifferent and yet kindly smile, also raised his glass to his lips in courteous greeting.